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176 days had passed since Specimen II had been introduced to the incubator. Including organ construction and assembly, about 200 days.

Beneath the noise of fluid bubbling through the incubator, Lyre hummed and whistled as she reviewed her records. She sat on the floor, back against the wall, a pillow decorated with music notes sandwiched between her knees and chest. One hand held onto a couple papers and the other fiddled with the pillowcase in her lap. A bunch of other documents laid strewn about on the floor—a mess she would later dread cleaning up. Everything always had to go through paperwork and authorities, and they had to fax everything to Lyre's room. A stupid arrangement, but it was one that the young scientist couldn't fight her way out of no matter how hard she tried—and she did try.

She twisted a corner of her pillow, the decoration on the pillowcase having faded there from constantly being rubbed. One glance at the vitals screen—kept safely windowed in another room—told Lyre that everything here was also going smoothly. Smoother than it is out there, anyway. She didn't really keep up with the news, but if the state was desperate enough to spent millions on a hybrid superhuman, then it didn't take an intellect of Lyre's caliber to figure that something was up.

Crack. Lyre jolted at the sudden sound. The papers in her hand fell to the floor, drifting a bit in the air before resting on the white linoleum. Incubator fluid dribbled out of the small crack and soaked a page in the process—not that soaked paperwork was of any actual concern, but.... Shit. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening.

Slowly but surely the incubator stability began to weaken. Cracks spread across the glass tube, and if the computer screen was set to display biofluid levels it would certainly be within dangerously low territory. Thankfully all doors and windows were airtight. The saline liquid all but poured onto the floor.

The specimen emerged from the hopeless ruin of broken glass and biofluid.

It was too early. Much too early.

Lyre remained frozen in place, her socks and pants getting drenched in liquid. Somehow she had enough control over her body to slightly lift the pillow, just barely keeping it dry.

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The cracking of glass echoed through her mind, What was happening? There was silence again, the figure inside the incubator slowly opened their eyes. Their Steel Blue eyes greeted by the dark blue scales of her Wings covering her body.
Suddenly everything shifted, gravity pulling on her and she suddenly slammed into the ground.

Her wings moved slightly, pulling apart as the air slowly dried off the liquid on top of them. Her wings fanned out and arched slightly, her slender tail flexing against the floor, the glass around her not a problem against her scales.
Where... Am I...? The beastwoman thought to herself before she pushed herself off of the ground.

Her wings folded back behind her as she slowly and shakily stood up. She gave a small stumble as her white hair glistened in the light.
She let out a low grumble, looking around with her deep purple eyes; her eyes settling on Lyre- She jolted backwards, stumbling and falling backwards onto the floor again, grunting loudly at the impact.
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Lyre remained frozen in the silence following that crash. She held the pillow tight against her. Her eyes, widened in alarm, followed the specimen as it considered its surroundings.

Scales covered its body, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. Its tail curved slightly, and its wings spread overhead like a vast canopy. Its head hung low, a clump of dripping white hair hiding its face.

And then it rose.

Their eyes met for a split second, and Lyre saw her own fear reflected in the dragon woman's disoriented gaze. A good thing, she forced herself to think, it can intimidate. She took a shaky breath. That thing could kill her this very moment. Just one careless wave of that tail...

No. I cannot be thinking such things.

With one arm wrapped around the pillow and the other pressed against the wall, Lyre began to stand. Her legs felt unstable below her. But the analyses she had completed, the data she had gathered—all of it provided a stable foundation for taming this newborn beast.

"My name is Lyre," she uttered slowly. "I am your creator. Rest assured, I will not hurt you."
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Tyssa rolled onto front before she swayed her tail again. She stayed low to the ground as Lyre introduced herself, she looked around more, wincing at the lights shining now that her eyes have adjusted.

"Light... Hurts... Eyes." She uttered in a low hush, before she pulled herself back up. She saw Lyre stumble and stepped forward to help her, but she didn't fall.
"I... Am..." She started, thinking, "Tyss...A?" She uttered, almost confused.
Her tail swayed softly before her stomach gave a rumble, which caused the beast-woman to look down at her stomach in mild confusion.

"What... Is my purpose?" She asked after some silence. "Why... Did you make me?"
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So it's capable of abstract thought, thought Lyre. Indeed, abstract thought often came with the innate sense of self, but not always.

This is...unexpected, to say the least.

The scientist stared at the floor, watching the biofluid ripple. Though the specimen obviously wouldn't hurt her, she remained on guard nonetheless. Her shoulders and legs tensed. Her heartbeat still rushed in her ears, loud and staccato and rapid. She bunched the pillowcase fabric in her hand, chafing the two cotton layers so hard it turned hot.

"Hello, Tyssa." Lyre sounded the name carefully. She considered its syllables, the unique way the specimen pronounced the name. Was it English? Some foreign tongue? Or merely a mutation of words that the hybrid embryo managed to pick up?

This is a bug. She lifted her eyes from the floor and stared at Tyssa's tail instead. I never programmed a pre-existing name. Nor should it have the capability of self-motivation.

"Why do you ask about your purpose?" inquired Lyre dryly.
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Tyssa tilted her head, listening to the smaller female ask her about asking about her purpose. She hesitated before answering, her eyes narrowing slightly as her tail tip twitched slightly. "I heard you speaking when you were creating me. I couldn't make out a lot of the words, but you were talking about me." She stated calmly, leaning against one leg as they moved to crossed her arms.

"I heard you mention 'Test... A'...?" She asked with an opposite head tilt, her dragon-ears perking up slightly before her ears dropped again. She seemed surprised about me hearing... my name? She thought quietly before she looked around.

Her eyes trailed around the area again, everything was shiny and she was almost entranced with what was around her. She held back on her curiosity before her stomach snarled, but louder. She cringed, almost collapsing from the under and pain.
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Lyre's eyes narrowed as well in response to Tyssa's pointed gaze. It's not lying. Lyre did construct a nervous system first, designed as an enhanced version of a human's in all five senses. She wouldn't be surprised if the specimen had other memories of the labs too.

Unfortunately for Tyssa, those enhanced senses were certainly feeling the empty stomach more intensely than any human would.

"Go ahead and drink the biofluid," said Lyre. "It contains all the nutrients necessary to your survival. Don't worry about it being dirty; everything here is sterile."

She tucked the pillow under her arm and glanced down at her clothes—a plain white t-shirt, gray cargo pants, and close-toed slippers. It was the same outfit every day, contained in an ultraviolet cleaning closet at night. Even the pillow in her arms was sterilized at night. She had a separate one for sleeping.
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Tyssa looked over at the Biofluid on the ground when Lyre mentioned about it, she flicked her wrist slightly and the fluid seemed to bubble up into a small orb that floated up to her hand.
"Not worried about... Dirty." The beast seemed to be picking up on the words that Lyre was saying, twisting them into her own sentences. Learning wasn't going to be a hard thing to do. "More the glass... Shards." She said before she moved the orb to her lips and drunk from it.

As she drunk, the orb slowly lowered in size. She finished it rather quickly, swaying her tail before she looked back to Lyre once more.
"You didn't.. Answer question." She calmly spoke, "My... Purpose?"
She flicked her ears again, listening to the sounds around her- trying to single them out and figure out what they were.

She stayed silent for a moment before Lyre's phone suddenly went off. The number was one from the Government, but not one that was saved to Lyre's phone.
When the phone went off Tyssa flinched and let out a loud, low growl; stretching her wings out to their full length and almost pushing things off of the shelves behind her.
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"Certain others will give you missions. Your job is to accomplish those missions." Lyre spoke carefully, understanding that every word she uttered would hold significant impact on the newborn specimen. Encouraging its brain to wire itself the right way was essential to its utility for her higher-ups. Not to mention the millions of dollars gone to waste if they decide to dispose of Test A. I should be aware of all my actions.

"Your missions will-" A call ringing into the room interrupted Lyre mid-sentence. She froze in place, and the telephone rang a few times before the scientist finally gathered herself enough to wade those few steps towards the incoming call. Like Tyssa, Lyre too was sensitive to external stimuli.

Her eyes narrowed instantly upon seeing the caller number. It's the government alright, but... Lyre's gaze glanced over the final four digits, the ones corresponding to each department office, who is this?

In any other situation, Lyre would've simply rejected the call. Given the current circumstances however... Do I really have a choice? She reached for the telephone, keeping careful watch on the doors and Tyssa.
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Tyssa drooped her ears at the mention of missions, I was made to listen to others? Hmph. She watched her creator move towards the phone with a flick of her ears.
She looked around slowly, taking in everything she could see. She turned her attention back to Lyre again as she got to the phone.

It continued to ring before Lyre would pick it up.
"Hello miss Moneaux" A familiar, smooth masculine voice echoed through the other end of the phone, it was the director of the whole shebang of a genetic mission. "Apologies about the new number, my phone broke a few days ago. I was wondering how everything was going?"

Tyssa's ears flattened as she heard the voice, something felt wrong and she didn't like it. She stepped towards Lyre, almost about to snatch the phone, but she knew that would be a bad idea. Her ears flexed before ruffling with a slow blink of her eyes.
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"Smoothly," replied Lyre, narrowing her eyes at the approaching figure beside her. She didn't take her gaze off of Tyssa even after it paused. The last thing she needed was to alarm the other departments and have her specimen taken out of her supervision—she could hardly trust others to handle it, and Lyre would be left with all the blame once testing failed.

"I'll let you know myself when Test A is ready to be moved over. Unless you have something else to say to me?" Lyre's voice was tinged with irritation. A slight difference that one often working with her often would notice, but a stranger may have attributed the clipped way she spoke to Lyre's introversion or awkwardness.
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"Just making sure, I don't want anything going wrong. We need them shipshape; did you need anything at all? Anymore supplies that we need to send over?"
"Meat." Tyssa growled towards the phone as she could hear the words, "Food."

Tyssa's tail swayed as she looked around, she was still hungry- the biofluid did enough not to make her starving, but her stomach still rumbled in hunger.
"Is someone there with you?" The voice asked quietly, "I thought I heard someone else..."
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"It must be the monitors, or the biofluid—they get quite noisy at times," replied Lyre. Though her voice remained stoic, the glare she flashed towards Tyssa was anything but. Her blue eyes glinted with a threat: keep your mouth shut or you'll regret being alive.

It was true. It was in both their best interests that Tyssa grew to its full potential and that Lyre had complete control over its development.

"Would you mind if I called back later?" asked Lyre to the director. "I'm doing urgent evaluations at the moment." She waited a few seconds before hanging up. If the director had anything more to tell Lyre, she would have already disconnected from the call.

Immediately, the young scientist spun towards the hybrid specimen. "Listen to me." She drew a slow breath. "You were predicted to emerge next month. Consequently, nobody knows of your existence, and you are weaker than you were meant to become. Thus, I am taking it upon myself to finalize your first-stage development before you are transferred to my higher-ups.

"You will stay contained in this testing area, unless you hope for them to discover you beforehand,"
directed Lyre, pointing a finger down at the floor, "which will inevitably lead to your slow destruction through training you are not yet prepared for. Do you understand?"
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Tyssa moved to sneer at Lyre as she glared at her, before something in her mind triggered and she stepped back with a shake of her head and a low huff.
The director only hummed in agreement when she went to hang up, seemingly unphazed by the woman's quick dismissal.

Tyssa moved to try and growl at Lyre when she told her off, but instead she almost slunk back, lowering her body and dipped her ears.
"I'm Sorry." She whispered quietly, "I don't want to be destroyed..."
Her behaviour changed, especially when she felt like Lyre was telling her off, she looked around the testing area before she moved to sit down on the floor.

Her tail swayed around slightly and pushed the glass that was around her, before she looked to Lyre after a moment. "I'm sorry." She stated quietly, "I didn't know I cam early."
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Lyre wasn't great with reading people, but Tyssa's demeanor changed radically enough for her to pick up on it. She raised a brow, confused at the sudden shift in character, but did not question it aloud.

"Naturally, you wouldn't know," responded the scientist, matter-of-fact. She stepped towards the room's exit. "You stay here," she directed once having reached the door. "I'm fetching food for you. It won't take long."
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Tyssa nodded at her words, not looking up at her as Lyre moved to leave.
She swayed her tail as she listened to the clatter of glass. She turned her head towards the glass again, looking at it properly before she realized it was a hazard.
The Experiment wanted for Lyre to leave the room before she would start cleaning.

As soon as Lyre would close the door after leaving, Tyssa moved quickly; hopping onto her feet before she moved her tail around and swept the glass into a small pile. She moved around to try and look for a waste bin of some kind, moving to sweep her tail again to pull more glass into a pile.

Tyssa's attention moved back to what was left of the Tube she rested in, looking at the jaggered points of glass that hung from the top and juttered up from the bottom, causing her to sway her tail and flexed her wings slowly.
"This is dangerous." She uttered out loud, "Dangerous for... Lyre." She said with a growl.
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Lyre had simply shuffled to the building's convenience store, ordered some sandwiches, and headed back to her room. She caught a couple of strange looks from the other workers, looks she attributed to her age or generally eccentric demeanor rather than anything suspicious. She had stocked up on deli meats and sandwiches regularly, about every week or so. It wasn't a new thing.

The employees are quiet today, she observed, relieved at the fact. There were worse tragedies in life than small talk, but Lyre still considered it Pretty Fucking Annoying.

She bagged her thirty meat sandwiches without much trouble. Within an hour of leaving she stood before the eyescanner of her door again. Then the door slid open.

Lyre tilted her head. What a pleasant surprise. It cleaned the floor. "Here." She overturned the plastic bag, sending the sandwiches tumbling to the floor. She caught one with her hand and opened the package.

Tyssa had the ability to digest the plastic layer, but it wouldn't provide any nutritional sustenance. [color=89cff5][i]I wonder what she'll do with the food.[/b][/color]
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Tyssa managed to get all the glass into a pile out of the way, but she couldn't find the bin to put it into. Her ears perked up as Lyre came back in, she stood up quickly before she looked at the Sandwiches as they fell to the floor.

Food. She thought before she moved over to grab some. She looked up at Lyre as she knelt down to get the food and looked at the one she had opened.
There was a moment of no movement, and a moment of silence, before she moved to stand up and used her tail to pull the top off the plastic before she took a bite out of the sandwich, her sharp teeth only seen for a brief second.

Tyssa managed to wolf down at least five of the sandwiches before she moved to set the rest of them on a flat surface. The growling hunger had stopped, she stood straighter now before she swayed her tail, looking back to Lyre tilt a tilt of her head.
"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" She asked, she wasn't a fan of orders, but she wanted to help Lyre in anyway.
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"Yes," replied Lyre as she began to turn around. Her feet pointed in the direction of the computer room, where the screens had displayed data. "Stand still. I'm running additional scans to make sure you don't abruptly collapse."

If Tyssa made no protest, the scientist would have exited the incubation room. Tyssa would hear some loud, metallic noises from the computer room. Lyre re-entered the incubation room carrying an armful of various wires and probes, all of different lengths and colors.
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Tyssa listened patiently, staying where she was after she had finished the sandwiches. Her ears flicked at the idea of abruptly collapsing, her tail flicked slowly. She flinched slightly at the sounds from the computer room.

Her ears pricked back up as Lyre entered again. "What are those?" She asked, "Is this going to hurt?"
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