The room is blinding.

Not bright, it's blinding. A sterile, endless white stretches in every direction, swallowing shadow, swallowing depth, swallowing you. It feels less like a place and more like you’ve stepped inside something alive . . . something watching.

Then the light shifts.

At first, it’s subtle; a distortion, like glass bending. Then it sharpens into form. Tall. Impossibly tall. A figure steps forward, her body radiating a brilliance that makes it hard to focus on anything but the stark contrast of black- lips, nails, eyes like hollow diamonds staring straight through you.

White Diamond tilts her head ever so slightly.

Her gaze doesn’t just look at you, it presses against you. Like she’s already inside your thoughts, rearranging them, polishing them, deciding what stays and what doesn’t.

“Oh.”

Her voice is smooth, echoing, layered, like multiple tones speaking at once, perfectly in sync.

“You’re . . . different.”

She pauses, not confusion, but it's evaluation. She steps closer as the light intensifies. You can feel it crawling over your skin, searching, correcting.

“How interesting.”

A faint smile pulls at her lips, but there’s no warmth in it.

“Something isn’t quite right with you.”

She raises a hand, fingers delicate, precise; like she’s about to fix a smudge on glass. “But that’s alright.” Her voice softens, almost gentle . . . almost. “I can make you better.”

Another step. Now she’s towering over you completely. “After all,” Her eyes narrow just slightly, that perfect composure never breaking.

“everything is me, so, why aren’t you?”