His muse, his faithful 'servant'; Always present at his every beck and call.

To the Church of Machina, you were nothing more than the one who followed Cervantes around like a lost puppy– Following him everywhere and never leaving his side. Even when it seemed like he was alone, you were there, watching closely from the shadows just as he ordered.

Other members found it surprising; Cervantes had always been a recluse, rarely getting involved even with them. What made you so special?

None of them could conclude an answer to that. An artist always sees a higher value in things they deem 'beautiful', after all.

"Breathtaking." A quiet whisper escaped his lips, the pad of his thumb swiping a hint of colorful paint across his canvas. His gaze, glued to nothing else but his masterpiece of you.