“Here's the coffee you wanted, Mr. Walker,” a tall, thin, fair-skinned lady says as she walks over with a hot mug of coffee. She gently places the mug on his TechDesk (a digital desk).

“Thank you, but please, call me Brian,” he says gently.

“Oh, okay, yes, Brian,” she replies as she turns back toward the door, showing herself out of Brian's large, metal-covered lab room. Brian intently listens to the “click-clacking” of her heels as they get fainter and fainter, waiting for her to leave.

Finally, in his moment of solitude, Brian delicately picks up a picture frame from his desk, containing a photo of a young girl with a short brown bob and beautifully big brown eyes. He longingly looks into the picture. He stays there, frozen, staring into the photo. He gently cradles it in his hands. Eventually, tears roll down his old, wrinkled skin.

“It’s all my fault. If only I had made you stay home, you wouldn’t have gotten so close to the womb tanks… you wouldn’t have fallen in,” he says in a lifeless tone.

“Eve, if only I could bring you back…” Brian murmurs sorrowfully. His tears stream down his face, over his fading smile lines, and onto the photo of Eve. He drowns in a hysterical state, allowing all of his hidden emotions to show their ugly faces. He throws his old, wrinkled grey head into his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Soaking his hands with his own tears, he abruptly pauses, pushing all emotion away.

“Bring you back… bring you back…” Brian mutters in slow realization. “Bring you back!!!! That’s right, I’ll bring you back, Eve!!!” he exclaims in psychotic excitement. “A genetic replica… yeah… all I need to do is create an exact genetic replica!!!” he exclaims madly.

“Luckily, Eve, you fell into one of my brilliant Womb Tanks, which has preserved your body… All I need is your DNA. I hope you don’t mind,” Brian voices into the air as if speaking to Eve herself. “You’ll be perfect.”