Reborn From Oblivion

Nathalie left the hospital and headed straight home. She spent the whole day turning her place upside down, going through every bit of Nathan's belongings, not eating or drinking, like someone searching for treasure in a pile of rubble.

Lizzy and Dominick Ford hovered nearby, eager to help, but Nathalie waved them off. "Don't touch anything. I'll handle it."

"What are you looking for, sis?" Lizzy asked.

"I'm trying to find Nathan's... manufacturing details," Nathalie replied.

Lizzy burst into tears. "Sis, that's just crazy. Even though he was an intelligent automaton, he had thoughts and feelings implanted by his creator. You can't just produce that kind of advanced tech like it's coming off a factory line!"

Nathalie sank to the floor, the flicker of hope she'd kindled snuffed out in an instant. She cried out in despair, "What am I supposed to do? I can't accept that he's gone forever. As long as there's even a glimmer of hope, I have to try. Otherwise, life feels so empty."

Lizzy wrapped her arms around Nathalie. "Don't cry, sis. We'll figure something else out..."

Suddenly, Nathalie clutched Lizzy's hand. "Lizzy, you know more about him than I do. Please, tell me how he came to be."

Lizzy shook her head, tears flowing. "I don't know, sis. I'm sorry, I really don't. The first person I saw when I 'woke up' was my master."

Nathalie covered her face with her hands and let out a wail. It was the first time she'd cried so openly since Nathan's passing. But this kind crying had Lizzy and the others on edge. It wasn't just grief being let out it was Nathalie's sheer desperation.

Meanwhile, at a detention center, a group of white-collar criminals gathered in a hall to watch a video. The officer was late, and instead of the usual reformationnoveldrama

video, a live broadcast mistakenly popped up on screen.

A composed host with a perfect British accent was delivering updates on London's financial scene and workforce changes. In a small window in the corner, a live stream of Stewart Enterprises showed up. The elusive second heir made a surprise appearance. Vivian, looking sharp in her tailored suit, was stealing the show with her impressive presentation.

One inmate couldn't hold back. "I know her, the Stewart family heiress. She used

to be just a street kid, always hanging around London Bridge. Who would've

thought she'd turn into a Stewart family heiress?"

"She looks like she belongs in high society. Absolutely stunning."

"Prettier than a lot of celebrities."

In a quiet corner, a

wheelchair-bound young man with a distant yet captivating face watched. His eyes, like crescent moons in a

dark sky, were fixed on the small et

window showing the girl. While

others admired her beauty, he saw only the emptiness in her clothes, her once-round cheeks now thin, her innocent eyes now filled with ambition for power and wealth.

His heart ached. He worried about her well-being. If he could, he would wish for her to never be burdened by power or money, to live a carefree life forever. But without an impossible goal, how could she go on after losing Nathan?

He feared that he was too naive to think of another way for her to carry on.