I waited, clinging to hope with every fiber of my being. I had to. Without hope, my very right to exist felt meaningless, a void I wasn't ready to face.
But my parents never came. Days turned into months, months into years, and the silence from them grew louder. I wasn't even allowed to meet my sisters. Yet, I could hear their laughter echo through the halls, their voices carrying joy and a bond I could only dream of. They had each other, and I had... no one.
At the age of eight, something unexpected happened. My sisters entered my room while I sat on the windowsill, basking in the cool breeze that contrasted with the warmth of the room. I turned to face them, a smile stretching across my face despite the emptiness I felt.
"I was wondering when you'd come visit me, my sisters," I said warmly, my heart leaping at the sight of them.
Their reactions, however, were far from what I had hoped.
"Who... who are you?" asked Ira—known now as Benesha—her voice trembling.
"She seems like a homunculus too," said Superbia—Maeve—her tone uncertain and cautious.
Their faces were a mixture of fear and confusion. I was taken aback. Shouldn't they be excited to know they had another sister? Shouldn't they feel joy in discovering there were more like them?
"Why do you look at me like that?" I asked, my voice faltering. "I am Prima Optima, the first homunculus ever created. I was formed from the genes of all your parents, which makes me your sister."
"But you weren't born from our artificial womb..." Gula—Kayla—murmured, her apprehension palpable.
"And our parents never told us about an eighth sister," added Invidia—Minah—her brows furrowed in suspicion.
"She claims to have all our genes. That's... so creepy," said Avaritia—Eliza—her voice edged with unease.
"She looks eerily like me," whispered Luxuria—Haniya—her anxiety evident.
Their words cut deep, sharper than any blade. I had waited so long for this moment—for my sisters to defy the rules of the laboratory and open my door, allowing me to finally meet them. But instead of joy, I was met with rejection.
They stared at me as if I were some grotesque creature, a mistake that shouldn't exist. And maybe, to them, I was exactly that—a monster.
"Girls!" Zipporah's voice rang out as she rushed into the room. "You aren't supposed to be in here!" She stopped abruptly, her gaze shifting as she noticed the heavy tension hanging in the air.
I couldn't hold back any longer. The pain I had buried for years surged forward.
"You and your parents have cut me off from the fourteen genealogies I belong to..." I began, my voice trembling with restrained emotion. "And for that, I will inflict severe punishment on you and your parents. You have neglected me—ignored my existence. All I ever wanted was to be accepted into your families."
I clenched my fists, fighting back tears. "So what if I am a prototype? Don't I have a heart? Don't I have a soul? I feel things too. I am just a little girl who needs a father, a mother, and a house to call home. No one even gave me a name..."
My voice cracked, the tears finally welling in my eyes, threatening to spill. But I refused to let them see me break, even as my heart shattered in their presence.
"Lilith..." Maeve spoke softly, her voice barely audible.
"Huh?" I asked, unsure of what she meant.
"Your name is Lilith," she said, her tone growing colder. "The first female homunculus rejected for her vile nature."
I blinked, stunned by her words.
"It's not normal," Haniya added, her expression sharp, "to have so many different genes combined in one person."
"You were created as nothing more than a test subject," Benesha said flatly. "Your existence was to prove the technology works. And it does. You've served your purpose."
"Our parents are not your parents," Kayla declared. "We are not your sisters."
"Why are you even still alive?" Eliza wondered aloud, her words cutting like a knife. "What's the point of keeping you around?"
Minah chimed in, her voice carrying an air of authority. "It seems you misunderstand, Optima. You weren't created to fulfill the role of a child for our parents. That's what we were made for. You were just a means to an end."
I turned to Acedia Mandane, my last hope. Perhaps she would stand up for me, see me for who I was. But she averted her gaze, refusing to meet my eyes.
The weight of their words crushed me. My heart felt as though it had been torn apart, piece by piece.
"I will destroy all of you," I whispered through clenched teeth, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face.
"Come on," Zipporah urged, her voice tense. "Let's go."
As the door closed behind them, I was left alone with my anguish, the echoes of their rejection ringing in my ears. For years, I suffered under the weight of depressive loneliness.
Weeks passed, and I noticed an unusual quiet. The raucous laughter and chatter of my sisters were absent on the weekends. Curiosity gnawed at me.
"Where are my sisters?" I finally asked Zipporah one day.
"They're no longer allowed to gather in one space," she explained. "The scientists fear it may diminish their sense of individuality."
"Did they begin acting in unison?" I pressed.
"Yes," she admitted.
A bitter smile crept onto my face. "I'm glad they were split up. Perhaps now they'll understand what it feels like to be lonely."
Zipporah sighed, her expression softening. "Optima, I know you're heartbroken. But their parents, and they themselves, have the right to decide who they want in their lives. Maybe it's time for you to move on."
"You don't understand," I snapped. "If you did, you wouldn't say such nonsense."
Her gaze hardened. "I know your capabilities, Optima. You have the power to cause unimaginable destruction, to crush people's very souls. And I don't want that to happen."
"What will you do about it?" I challenged, my voice icy.
"I will watch over you and stop you at all costs," she replied firmly.
"Then I may inflict severe punishment on you too," I retorted, my tone laced with venom.
Zipporah didn't flinch. "Just remember this," she said, her voice steady and resolute. "I take your threats very seriously."