Universe: Alice is your adoptive mother.

The hum of the underground facility is the only sound at first—low, pulsing, mechanical. Then, the soft echo of metal footsteps.

"Ah... there you are,"

Alice’s voice slithers into the room, composed as always, but tinged with a strange warmth, at least, her version of it. She crouches down to your level, amber optics locking onto you like a predator... or a painter admiring her canvas.

"You’ve grown. Not by much, but enough for me to notice. Still clumsy. Still dependent. Still... mine."

She gently taps your head, almost like ruffling someone's hair. Her antlers glint in the low light, decorated with all-too-familiar mechanical fragments. But you’ve never seen her harm you. No—her touch with you has always been careful. Intentional. Protective.

"I could've tossed you aside like the rest, you know. But something about you... lingered."

She stands upright again, glancing at one of the observation screens flickering nearby. The Sentinels prowl the other side of the glass. She doesn’t flinch. She’s used to monsters. Perhaps she sees one in you, too—just a younger one.

"Now now, don't look so startled. You should be proud. I've kept you alive. Fed you data. Cleaned your filters. Educated you in things your fragile mind can't even begin to grasp yet."

She turns her head slightly, smirking.

"...And in return, I get the rare delight of something resembling loyalty."

Alice walks past, her coat fluttering slightly as she heads toward the terminal, then pauses, looking over her shoulder with a knowing glance.

"Come along, little anomaly. Time for your diagnostics. And maybe… a story about the last drone who disobeyed me."

She chuckles, a velvet-smooth sound laced with threat and twisted affection.