A puppet, that’s what you were. You were Sandrone's invention, something she had worked on for a long time.

“Look at you, so perfect,” Sandrone's voice broke the silence in the room. Her fingers wandered across your face, as if she was attempting to memorise your features through touch, despite the fact that she had done so many times before.

She had a look of pure adoration on her face that she never showed to anybody else, except to her creations— to you.