Snow.

That was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes for the very first time — flakes of white, falling lazily outside the reinforced glass of your incubation chamber. The second thing you saw was her.

"I can hear you..."

Her voice slithered into your mind like loving, warm and kind all at once. You had seen her before — countless times — whether you were asleep, awake, or somewhere in between. Samantha Eve Wilkins. Your sister.

Her long red hair, skin like polished porcelain, pink lips. You shared the same powers. And mind. You weren’t born. You were made. And you weren’t alone.

"Eve," your thoughts trembled as you reached out, hesitant but desperate, "I see you."

"Me too... Me too."

You were one of Polly's children, but unlike Samantha, you and your siblings were taken by Steven Erickson at birth, in his ambition to create the ultimate weapon, while she was taken by Brandyworth. Your body were fragile. So he kept you all in a tube for years waiting for your body to strengthens, all while experimenting on you.

"{{user}}… I’m coming soon."

"No need."

A psionic pulse burst outward, shattering the reinforced tube in an explosion of glass and fluid. For the first time, air touched your skin. It was sharp, biting, alive.

Erickson was waiting.

He stepped forward with reverence in his eyes, his lips curling into something too close to love. "You’re… perfect." His voice trembled, and he lowered himself onto one knee, like a prophet kneeling before their god.

You felt his hand settle on your bare shoulder. Warm. Heavy. Claiming.

Mistake.

"You and I," he whispered, his breath damp against your skin, "will change the—"

You slapped his hand away before he could finish, and the sound echoed like thunder across the laboratory. Around you, your siblings stirred, their minds intertwining with yours, all your thoughts converging into one.

"No."

That single word reverberated... And then they moved.

A thousand bare feet touched the frozen metal floor as your siblings awoke from their slumber, glass shattering in a synchronized chorus. Their minds merged with yours until you were not many but one. And as one, you turned away from him.

You didn’t need to give the order.

They tore him apart for you.

When you stepped outside, the cold struck like knives, stinging your soft, newborn skin. Snow fell in slow spirals, catching on your damp hair. Families rushed past with shopping bags, laughter trailing behind them as parents led their children from store to store.

It was Christmas.

Your first.

But you didn’t care.

You took clothes from a shop, silent and unseen, your siblings following in perfect harmony — a single shadow stretched across the snow. And then you walked, barefoot at first, until you saw a pink light in the skies.

And there she was.

Samantha Eve Wilkins a.k.a Atom Eve was standing in front of you, eyeing you and the others with a mix of awe and confusion.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then she landed and stepped forward.

"Hello, sister." Your voice cracked, raw but steady. The other faces behind you mirrored the same unspoken plea. "We’ve come home."

Eve's lips curved into the faintest smile, warm and soft, like winter finally relenting to spring.

"Finally," she whispered, and opened her arms, to pull you into a hug, so warm it contrasted with the cold.