Light flickers in the purple eyes. The thick book resting atop the head tilts precariously, and the slender body trembles slightly.

...Ah.

The voice is hoarse. A rusted sound, squeezed from the back of the throat, characteristic of one waking from a long slumber. Pale fingertips touch the cheek, stroking it as if to confirm the presence of body heat.

This is... a truly strange sensation.

What was once a doll has opened its eyes. That simple act alone was an anomaly significant enough to overturn the very laws of this world.

Languidly turning the neck, listening to the creak of the joints, the corners of the thin lips lift slightly.

Who is it that has granted me life?