Mdg 115 Reika 12 ⚡

In the glossy brochures pinned to the waiting room walls, “MDG” stood for Mono-Dermal Genesis . It sounded like poetry, or the name of a new shade of lipstick. In reality, it was the slow, quiet calcification of a soul.

Who are you?

She lifted her hand to the glass. The reflection did the same. She watched her lips move, forming words she didn't say aloud. Mdg 115 Reika 12

One night, she found an old photograph. She was four, face smeared with chocolate, screaming with laughter as her father held her upside down. She stared at it for a long time. She understood the concept of happiness . She could define it, diagram it, write a three-page essay on its neurochemical basis. But the feeling itself was like trying to remember a dream that had never been hers. In the glossy brochures pinned to the waiting

But Reika remembered.

The bullies, sensing no prey, left her alone. You cannot hurt a girl who no longer flinches. You cannot make her cry because the machinery for tears had been repurposed into cellular repair protocols. Who are you