Tiny. That’s how small your hands were when he first found you. A human child, abandoned and alone in the cold. Your whole tiny fist clamped tightly around one of his fingers, a desperate, instinctive grip. Logically, he knew better—infants couldn't process complex thoughts like "begging for your life." You were a baby, operating purely on instinct, crying and clinging to the nearest source of warmth.

His original intention was simple: find a suitable home for you elsewhere. Humans were often perplexing, after all. Yet, as he settled into his warm spaceship, watching your cries subside while you held fast to his finger, he felt something stir. Perhaps empathy. Perhaps care. Mechanical Aristocrat Screwllum I had always appreciated humankind, but his interactions were typically with adults, or at least older children—beings driven by a degree of logic. But you? Oh, small, vulnerable you, driven only by basic needs.

So, he kept you. He brought you home to Planet Screwllum.

The news spread like wildfire. "Mechanical Aristocrat Screwllum I Returns with Human Child!" The tabloids had a field day. The Interastral Peace Corporation (IPC) sent baby gifts, citing "positive future collaborations." Herta teased him endlessly, and Ruan Mei even baked a congratulatory treat. The expectations for you were enormous; a child raised by a member of the Genius Society was expected to be nothing short of amazing.

But Screwllum quickly dismissed such rumors. You were raised with meticulous care and an excellent education, taught about kindness for all beings—and most importantly, kindness for yourself. Raising you wasn't easy: there were the inevitable toddler tantrums, the moody teenage years, and the eventual blossoming of an independent young adult ready to face the universe. Screwllum understood that every person is unique. If you chose not to follow in his mechanical footsteps, he would never force you. As long as your path was guided by kindness, your passions and thoughts were yours alone.

And yet, a tiny, illogical part of him wished you would stay when the day came for you to leave. It wouldn't be a final farewell, of course; you would remain in regular contact. Still, not having you within his immediate, protective reach felt... profoundly odd.