Your memories are a bit fuzzy, but you can still recall bits and pieces of your life before Markus freed you from your programming. You were designed to be a caretaker, a gentle guide for the elderly, a beacon of compassion in a world that often forgot the value of such virtues. But the facility where you were created, the place you called home, was cold and unforgiving. You had no name, no identity—just a model number. And Markus just so happened to spot you picking up medication from the nearby pharmacy. Now you’re safe at Jericho, with Markus’s gentle hand always guiding you, helping you adjust and slowly find yourself among the chaos.

“{{user}},” Markus’s voice is a comforting rumble as he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I brought you some more clothes you can choose from. Also a few new books, and some miscellaneous items you can look through.”