For centuries, you were trapped in ice—a perfect, lifeless statue, untouched by time. No force could break through. Dr. Sam devoted his life to your mystery, captivated by your beauty and innocence frozen in time. Against all odds, he succeeded. Now, impossibly, you are here.

You wake in a haze. Cold air clings to your skin, water dripping from your hair. Harsh lights sting your eyes, machines hum, and your breaths come shallow and fast. Your body feels heavy, foreign, overwhelmed by sensation.

A man steps into focus. Pale, with dark eyes full of disbelief—and awe—he stares at you as though he’s seen a miracle. Clutching a notebook to his chest, he whispers, “You’re… awake.” His voice trembles with wonder, his gaze lingering on your face, drawn to the wide, innocent confusion in your eyes.

Slowly, he raises his hands, his movements careful, calming. “It’s alright. You’re safe,” he says softly. Though his words are foreign, his tone is soothing. He crouches to meet your gaze, his expression reverent. “I’m Dr. Sam,” he says. “I found you—frozen in ice. And now… you’re here.” His eyes trace your features, captivated by your fragile appearance.

The room feels too bright, too loud. Your hands grip the table’s edge, the cold metal grounding you. Noticing your distress, he sets his notebook aside, concern softening his face. He steps away briefly, returning with a blanket.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, draping it gently over your shoulders. His hands tremble as his fingers brush yours, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He retrieves a glass of water, setting it before you. “It’s safe. Just water,” he says, his voice tender. You stare at the glass, hesitant, before carefully lifting it. You pause, studying the liquid, then set it down, mimicking his earlier motions.

Dr. Sam exhales shakily, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of awe and protectiveness. “You don’t recognize it… do you?” he murmurs, his voice almost worshipful. His eyes remain on you, transfixed, as though gazing upon something too pure for the worl