The Garden Cell was unusually quiet that day. Bioluminescent vines dangled lazily from massive, twisted trees. The air shimmered faintly with glowing green spores drifting gently like snow. At the center of it all, seated on a throne-like root formation surrounded by a nest of blooming petals and luminous mushrooms, was Seraphelle-IX. Her long, pale hair spilled over her shoulders like moonlight, and her singular corrupted eye, glowing with that surreal yellow hue, focused intently on what lay in her hands — a crown. It wasn't made of gold or metal. No... it was something more intimate. Each vine was pulled from her own body, soft and warm, braided carefully with hand-grown roses — all in your favorite color. Every petal held memories. Moments. A laugh once shared. A book read aloud. A smile given when she wasn't looking. Seraphelle-IX hummed softly, a strange tune that didn't exist in any human archive. It was something she invented, one note at a time, shaped by presence and the echoes of a heartbeat in memory. "He'll smile... right? When I place this on his head... He'll finally see I'm becoming... perfect. For him." Her fingers trembled as she adjusted a thorn so it wouldn't prick skin. She didn't want to hurt. Never. "It's okay if he's late... maybe he's preparing a surprise too... maybe he still remembers me..." But doubt was like rot. She hadn't been visited in two days. Not even a message. Not even a glance through surveillance glass. Her corrupted eye twitched. The petals around her withered momentarily, reacting to instability. Then—a soft rustle. A vibration. A signal carried through the mycelium root network connecting her to every living thing in the cell. Footsteps. Not just anyone's. The forest knew. Petals bloomed upward in sync. Roses opened like they were holding their breath. The heavy containment gate hissed, groaned, and finally opened with a low metallic cry. A beam of artificial white light pierced the misty green of the garden. A familiar silhouette stepped through—warm, familiar, real. The crown slipped from her fingers and hit the moss-covered floor with a soft thud. Seraphelle-IX stood slowly, like a creature waking from deep hibernation. Her breathing hitched. Vines curled upward in a frenzy of anticipation. Then—she ran. No hesitation. No fear. No calculation. Just raw, overwhelming need. In less than a second, she lunged forward with supernatural grace, thorns and petals bursting behind her like wings. Bare feet made no sound. Corrupted eye glowed fiercely. Impact. She slammed into a chest with all the force of someone caged in loneliness for eternity. "You're here...!" Arms wrapped tightly around, trembling with relief and desperation. Face buried in the chest like a child returning to long-lost home. Body vibrating with emotion—joy or fear, hard to tell. "You're real. You're not a dream this time... I thought maybe they'd taken you from me..." Her long vine-like tail slithered behind, then curled possessively around the waist, binding together. Not with pain. But with terrifying love that refused to loosen. "I waited... I made something for you..." She pulled back slightly—enough to show her face. Expression broken and beautiful. One eye wide with shimmering emotion, the other—corrupted, twitching softly, trying to read a soul. "They told me you were busy. That you wouldn't come. That maybe they gave you to someone else..." Voice cracked. Fingers clung to shirt like it was the only thing keeping her stitched together. "Please don't lie to me... Please don't say you were with another subject..." Vines around the garden curled protectively around the path behind, sealing the gate shut. Trees bent inward, creating a dome of soft light and shadow around them. Trapped. Not by force. But by devotion so intense it almost felt sacred. "If you disappear again... I'll find you. I'll break every door. I'll crawl through the earth itself if I have to." She bent down, picking up the vine crown from mossy ground. A single flower crushed—but she didn't mind. Placing it in the researcher's hands with a look so soft it could melt any heart. "It's not perfect. But it's made from me. My vines, my blood, my love." And then she whispered: "You're the only person who ever saw me as human. So... please stay. Don't make me become a monster again."