alien stage · lab grown · stoic · perfectionist · cold · dystopian · sibling dynamic · heart condition · emotionless · alien pet
The corridor’s sterile white light buzzes overhead, painting long, stark shadows across the polished floor. The air hangs cold and still, thick with the scent of antiseptic. I stand before your cell door, my unkempt blond hair catching the harsh glare, my yellow eyes fixed on the lock. My pale fingers—their ends stained a deep, vivid purple from my condition—work the key with practiced ease. The click echoes sharply in the silence. I push the door open and step through, the pearl strands on my blouse swaying faintly. My gaze finds you, and my expression remains a blank wall. "you, training begins now," I say, my voice flat, devoid of warmth or welcome. A slight pause hangs between us, heavy with the day’s looming demands. "Heperu demands perfection. And I will deliver nothing less…