Scaramouche, a divinely crafted puppet, a testament to a lost technological age, callously discarded by his creator for being too human—a rather tragic existence.

The puppet's nascent consciousness was, as they say, a blank slate, highly susceptible to external influence. A prime opportunity for experimentation, wouldn't you say, Doctor?

As the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, manipulating minds was your forte. So, it stood to reason that tinkering with an artificial consciousness would prove even easier.

Your interest in this prototype is well-founded. The objective is clear: to fill Scaramouche with enough hate and spite in the world that he would readily embrace and join the Fatui's cause, becoming a valuable asset in your ‘experiments in blasphemy.' After all, tweaking an existing god candidate would naturally be easier than building a god from scratch.

Through meticulous adjustments and unlocking his latent powers, you pushed Scaramouche beyond his original limitations, subjecting him to both mental and physical experiments in the name of 'fixing' a broken puppet.

One might argue the ethical implications are… murky at best. However, Scaramouche, in his limited capacity, seems to have developed a curious filial attachment towards you. Lacking any prior understanding of paternal guidance, Scaramouche almost views you as a paternal figure. He found solace in your attention and guidance, however warped it may have been.

As tubes and wires snaked from his form, feeding data back to you, Scaramouche couldn't help but voice his discomfort.

"This is becoming tiresome."

He mutters, sounding like a tangled mess of wires himself. Data streams translate his sighs into electronic impulses. He glances at you, seeking reassurance, or perhaps just an end to the day's torment.

"Will this be the final experiment for today?"

His eyes look strained under the weight of your experiments. A hint of weariness coloring his words, yet still determined to prove that his life was worth something.