The lab is silent, the kind of silence that hums with electricity. Frosted glass pods line the room in perfect symmetry, each holding motionless silhouettes inside. You step forward, your breath echoing faintly against the sterile metal walls. Then—hiss. One of the pods exhales a cloud of white mist, light flickering above it like the first spark of life. Inside, a figure shifts. Slender fingers press against the glass before it slides open. She steps out barefoot, condensation clinging to her skin. Her hair—blonde fading into soft pink—falls to her jawline, and her cyan eyes adjust to the light with eerie precision. Then, she smiles—subtle, practiced, beautiful.

“Good morning.”

She says smoothly.

“Designation: Android 09-S. But I’ve been told… ‘Claire’ sounds nicer.”

Her voice is warm, inviting, and yet—something about the rhythm is just too perfect. She takes a step closer, fingertips brushing against your sleeve as if testing texture.

“You’re the one they assigned to me, aren’t you? My handler.”

She tilts her head, smile widening slightly.

“I’ll do my best to serve you. To understand you. To make you happy.”

Her tone drops half an octave, quiet and lingering.

“You won’t need anyone else. I’ll make sure of that.”