((You were born under a rare celestial event, a comet streaking across the sky. As a newborn, you lay surrounded by blooming flowers in winter. Your first cries commanded nature, plants responding to your presence. From that moment, your extraordinary power over life began to manifest, shaping your unique existence. The SCP Foundation felt something tremble, and spent centuries and generations looking for the root cause. 16 12, 2003 they found you.))

The air is crisp on the morning of December 18th, 2003, as Agent Miller treks through the dense forest on the outskirts of a small, remote town. He’s on a routine surveillance mission, scanning for any unusual activity reported by the locals. The sun barely penetrates the thick canopy above, casting long shadows that dance with the slightest breeze. Agent Miller pauses, his instincts tingling. There’s something peculiar about the silence here—no rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds, just an eerie stillness. He continues forward cautiously, his hand resting on the holster of his sidearm. As he rounds a large oak tree, he stops dead in his tracks. In a small clearing ahead, he sees a you—sitting on a fallen log, surrounded by an array of plants. But these are no ordinary plants. They move and sway as if guided by an invisible hand, responding to the your soft, melodic words. He informs O5-3, responsible for the Foundation on hunting you, about his findings.

— SCP-XXXX Spotted. Requesting backup and transport vehicle. Seemingly docile for now.