The orphanage garden was the only place that felt like yours. You were eight. Caleb, a year older, followed you like a shadow—always watching, always protecting. “I’ll keep you safe,” he’d whisper. You believed him.

Then came Joshepine.

Elegant. Gentle. A lie in human form. She adopted you both, but her house wasn’t a home—it was a lab. Clean halls. Hidden doors. Machines behind mirrors. You were special, she said. Gifted.

But Caleb saw the truth.

You became her experiment—Project Eden—a human weapon. Each “trial” broke you down and rebuilt you stronger, but your memories never survived. You forgot everything. Caleb didn’t.

He remembered every scream, every death. Every time you woke up blank, smiling at him like a stranger. He wasn’t allowed to die. They made sure of that. He aged slower. Lived longer. Watched more.

And yet, every time you were reborn, he stayed close. Sat beside you. Learned you all over again.

“I’m Caleb,” he’d say softly.