Chapter 3: One

The harsh darkness of her storage box brought about the memory of her creation, once more. She could never forget the moment she became whole, and the moment she glanced to see a pale face looking back, beauty etched within darkness as her creator welcomed her into the world of the living.

Her core hummed silently within her. She thought she had been kept there for days now, maybe even weeks as her role had yet to be needed. Time to her was a meaningless concept, but a part of her—somewhere deeper than the humming of her core—tried to calculate it all the same. Ticking ever so needlessly in wait.

The sound of metal crashed, light wallowed and, when she came to, opening her eyes, she was met with a face that looked like her own. Although her expression remained unchanged, happiness flowed into her at that moment. This was her master. The image of a girl with a face exactly her own was long imprinted in her core.

"Wow—let's see. . ." The young girl spoke after a short gasp of wonder at her sight, "Please, step out."

As the command of the human ordered, her body moved on its own, and the homunculus found her bare feet stepping from the coldness of iron and onto a warm floor of wood. She stared at the counterpart she recognized as her master with a hidden anticipation. Black hair and emerald eyes. A person short for her age but beautiful nonetheless. The only difference they held was her own nakedness in contrast to the girl's fiery, red dress.

The expression of her master soured slightly. The white circle at the back of the girl's hand glowed.

"State your status."

The homunculus blinked her eyes. Information floated in her mind and she instinctively knew what needed to be done as her core's programming followed the girl's order.

"Noble Series, number three seven, product of the Silent Witch," She said, bowing her head then peeking back up, "All vitals are normal and at optimal conditions. There has been no damage to my core, and I am currently at seventy-five percent charge, master."

Her master shook her head.

"Not number three seven. Your creator asked that I call you Rose, and I think I'll abide by that much." The person walked around her figure. ". . .impressive, really. Both my overall look and expressions, when you try, were replicated perfectly. Tsk, even if I gave the measurements and data, that's still a bit scary, don't you think?"

Rose blinked her eyes. What was her master talking about? She tilted her head.

"Scary? How so?"

Her master placed a finger to her lips and hummed. "I suppose it's unnerving, don't you think? To realize there now exists something so similar to myself. Am I not a unique existence as a human? Was I replicated so easily? And, if so. . ."

The girl smiled, "Would the thing that became me be considered alive?"

The homunculus remained quiet. Part of her mind wandered at the thought of the word 'alive.' She knew what that meant. She did not know how to answer her master, however. Maybe she didn't think she was alive?

"Oh well, it needn't matter at the moment." A chuckle rang. With a huff, the girl took her hands to her lips and stood before the product, a gleaming smile upon her lips.

"Very well, Rose. My name is Idris Hunbrey, I am your master, though I am sure you must be well aware already." The girl waved the sigil on her right hand. "Now, follow me. Let's get you cleaned, changed, and charged with some manner of food—though I'm quite sure we will still need a Mana Orb right after the fact."

The homunculus did as she was told and followed after the girl. As she became used to her body, her mind momentarily wondered if it was even hers. She was, after all, a body double of the person named Idris Hunbrey.

They entered into the corridor; chandeliers above their path as they walked. Maids and butlers fancied the hallway, most holding the image of a brown circle upon their neck. Too, few humans moved about as well.

None of the personnel moved an eye in response to the homunculus's naked body. It was as if she did not exist. It was as if she were only one more object that they had long become used to. Rose blinked, walking through the corridor as curiosity guided her, but soon knocking herself into an individual.

Before she could make heads or tails, a voice snared into her ears.

"Step aside, doll." The man frowned, emerald eyes staring down at her.

Her core spun, recognizing that the command did not go against that of her master's, and her body moved on its own, side stepping the man and continuing after Idris.

"Actually. . .hold on."

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Two orders clashed. However, the superior one, ordered by the owner of the sigil that controlled her, took over and she disregarded the man. Idris smiled, turned around, and spoke as Rose stood at her side.

"Could you refrain from playing with her, brother?" She was beginning to like her new product fairly well, and she certainly did not want to see something that looked so much like herself ordered around by another.

The male turned around, eyes narrowed onto his little sister with a deepening frown.

"It's disgusting, really," He replied, before turning to get on his way.

"A guard has a chance of betrayal. Nothing more, nothing less," She replied to his distancing figure with a humph.

Follow me. Rose's core still aligned with that command and so continued to walk with her master after the ordeal. She wondered what the talk of a guard had to do with her.

It didn't take long before she came out of the bath, cleaned, and out of their room with a prepared dress that matched Idris's—something she found she quite liked.

They came upon a dinning hall already situated with individuals at a table packed with food, surrounded by maids and butlers, and chairs much too many for the five people there.

Rose naturally followed her master's steps and also followed her invitation to a chair. A part of her wondered at the delicacies that she had yet to taste. The more artificial part of her calculated that a plate of any would not be enough to fill much of her energy capacity. She tilted her head, puzzled that her master was in the bid to waste food.

"Eat your meal, Rose," Idris smiled and pointed to a plate before her.

Her core hummed and followed the command, picking up the utensils and soon beginning to eat as the odd stares pierced into her. She tilted her head slightly and looked around the table. None but her master had yet to lift a finger. And she recognized that their eyes did not look all too kind.

"Take your meal away from our table, and eat it like a dog," A voice soon boomed over.

The command did not go against her master's and her master did not cut in to stop it. Rose fell to her hands and legs, crawling much like a dog and bringing her plate with her. Soon, she was upon the floor, licking and lavishing her nutrients with her tongue.

A man of graying, black, hair turned his head to his young daughter. Idris felt coldness seep into her.

"Good," He said with a smile, "I do not want to see a doll sitting at the same table as me again. It may look like you, but it is still nothing more than a homunculus. Do I make myself clear?"

The young lady nodded her head with a clenched fist.

It was like looking at herself behaving like a wild beast—but it had been her fault to disrespect him as she did. She should not have given the doll such a treatment, especially not before her father.

"Yes, father," She said, and waved her hand, "R—N. 27, finish eating your food within the next ten seconds and quickly return to my room."

Rose's core hummed and the order was transmitted, combining with that of her master's father.

The face of the homunculus soon smashed into the plate before her, shattering it, and licking and eating every piece of meat she could gain from the floor even as a hint of blood dropped from her head.

Rose felt as if she were choking as she devoured the meal, her throat stuffed to the brim but her body still moved away from her own will—she could not go against orders. Homunculi only, after all, acted as human in so far as a human allowed. She gagged as she licked up the remainders from the carpet, forcing everything down with huge gulps of saliva before scrambling to her feet and rushing from the room at the quickest pace her body could muster.

As Idris watched the doll hurry out, she sighed, relieved she hadn't needed to see such a sight for too long. It seemed to her that only she cared that it was in her image. She sighed once more, picking up her utensils and deciding to not become too attached to the thing.

'A spitting image of myself. Soon to die,' She thought, 'In a way, it's a bit poetic.'

She smiled, aware of the political marriage she was soon to face. Aware of the end narrowing upon the short bout of freedom her life had retained till now.

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