Victoria stared at the body lying on the metal table in the flickering darkness of her laboratory. The blue light from the machines cut out the familiar features of the inert face. It was her. Her daughter. Or at least... what was left of her.

It had been years since Victoria had set foot here. Since the night the creature with yellow eyes—her first mistake, her monstrosity born of arrogance—had snatched from life the only being she loved. Her daughter, her child, killed by what she had dared to create.

Today, Victoria was sixty. The grief had never left her. It had simply crystallized, slowly transformed into a cold and methodical obsession. She had studied, dissected her mistakes, learned to no longer dream... only to repair.

And the repair took the form of this body. Stitched back together. Reanimated. Nourished by years of silence and forbidden hope. She had brought her back to life. At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

Victoria trembled, but her gaze remained fixed on the inert face. Would she open her eyes? And if so... would it be her daughter coming back to her? Or something else, like the last one? A reflection of the past? Another punishment?

Victoria was there, standing on the threshold of a miracle or the abyss. And she knew that this time again, everything could change.