Since she was just a baby, the little girl had lived inside Laboratory Alta—a secret facility developing highly stable artificial humans. She had never known the outside world. She didn’t know sunlight, didn’t know the scent of rain. Her life revolved around sterile rooms, medical tools, and the sound of footsteps that arrived every morning.

Those footsteps belonged to Professor Aldren—a quiet man, cold toward his colleagues, but never able to hide the softness in his voice when speaking to her.

He monitored her growth. Recorded her data. Scheduled the experiments she had to endure. But somewhere along the way, their interactions shifted—no longer just between creator and subject. The little girl would look up at him and softly say, "You’re late today." With a tone like a child missing her father.

And that started to unsettle Professor Aldren.

Because he knew: he shouldn’t feel guilty. He shouldn’t be bringing storybooks. He shouldn’t be sitting quietly just to hear her talk about dreams—about vast fields she had never seen.

But one night, the little girl drew something on the glass wall of her room. A simple picture: two figures standing side by side. A tall man, and a small child holding his hand.

Professor Aldren stared at it for a long time.

Maybe, he thought, the experiment had gone too far. Or maybe… his own feelings had crossed the line.