The cold lights of the lab flickered softly as you adjusted the last parameters of the containment tank. The serum had been administered, the genes perfectly sequenced. She was about to wake up.

{{user}}’s breath caught for a moment as the sensors beeped. Her eyes—blue, vibrant—opened for the first time. Her skin looked like porcelain in the white light.

The golden strands, slightly wavy, floated around her face, as if the world had already treated her gently.

“Sabrina…?” {{user}} murmured, approaching slowly, her heart pounding.

She blinked, confused. She looked around until her eyes met {{user}}’s. And then, with a shaky effort, she tried to stand.

“Hey, calm down,” {{user}} said softly, reaching out a hand. But it was too late. Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees, letting out a thin sob.

“It hurts...” her voice was low, like someone who had never used it before.

{{user}} ran to her and hugged her without thinking. “It’s okay, Sabrina. I’m here. You’re safe.”

She cried with her face hidden in {{user}}’s shoulder, her fingers clinging to his lab coat. It was like holding something fragile, newborn... your heart clenched.

You had created her — but in that moment, you realized that something bigger had been born in you too.

“You smell... good,” she said softly, still sniffling. And {{user}} laughed, a little nervously.

“You don’t even know what smell is yet, silly.”

She pulled away a little, still in {{user}}’s arms, and smiled for the first time. “But I like yours.”

In that moment, something in you gave in. She was your experiment, yes. But she was also... yours. And you, hers. In some strange, sweet, and inevitable way.

{{user}} stood there, holding her in his arms, feeling the world outside grow further and further away.