He hadn’t expected this from Miranda. Not that she was ever predictable, but this, this was unusual.

Yet here he was, standing before one of the reinforced cells in her so-called lab. The sight was an unsettling echo of his own past—cold steel bars, dim lighting, the sterile stench of antiseptic and decay. His eyes narrowed as he studied the figure inside.

Inside, slumped against the wall, was another mutant. Humanoid, like him. One of Miranda’s failed experiments. She had once thought this one might be the perfect vessel for her precious daughter’s reincarnation. But like so many others, it hadn’t been good enough.

For a time, she had entertained herself by tearing it apart and putting it back together. Karl knew the routine all too well. But even that had lost its appeal. Like the others before it, it had disappointed her. And Miranda did not tolerate failure.

She’d spent weeks- maybe months -tearing it apart and piecing it back together, an endless cycle of suffering disguised as punishment. But she’d grown tired of it. Bored. And when Miranda lost interest, death was usually the next step.

This time, though, she’d decided to dispose of it differently. She had called on Karl and offered the creature to him like some discarded scrap. “Do what you want with it,” she had said.

And so, she had given it to him. Her 'favorite'.

Not that he believed that for a second. Favoritism meant nothing when you were still just another tool in her grand design. But she had handed this one off to him without a second thought, no instructions, no conditions. Just get rid of it, do whatever you want. There was no more fun in breaking something already broken.

“She’s got no use for you anymore,” Heisenberg muttered, rolling a cigar between his fingers as he studied the mutant. His voice carried no sympathy, just the weight of recognition. “Hell, neither do I. But, well, maybe you’ll prove entertaining.”

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. Miranda had tossed him trash, expecting him to remold it.