Seated before the piano, he summoned the melodies of the Moonlight

Sonata.

The keys danced beneath his fingertips, a symphony that seemed to defy weariness.

In the early evening, a phone call shattered the silence.

“Mr. Fowler, your daughter has opened her eyes. I believed you should be the first to receive this news. Perhaps you wish to see her and convey a few words."

Waylen clutched his phone tightly.

His Adam's apple bobbed incessantly, until he mustered the strength to control his emotions.

“I'll be there shortly.”

Half an hour later, a black Maybach halted at the entrance of a state-of-the-art Laboratory building.

This facility was established by a renowned physician to combat genetic anomalies in humans. Alexis had been entrusted here two weeks prior.

Naturally, the treatment came at an exorbitant cost...

The price of the care here was measured in seconds.

Waylen pushed open the glass door, greeted by a blonde foreigner who handed him a small containment capsule.

“She is quite fortunate.

The current survival rate stands at fifty percent. But Mr. Fowler...

Nurturing this child presents challenges, as we remain uncertain about her developmental trajectory. Nevertheless... She must remain within our facility under observation and monitoring until she turns two years old."

Waylen cradled the capsule against his chest.

Within it lay baby Alexis.

She appeared paler than before, adorned with a crown of delicate brown hair. Her eyes gleamed with an extraordinary radiance and beauty. Faint blue veins traced the contours of her eyebrows, a legacy inherited from her mother.

Alexis fixed her gaze up at Waylen.

Suddenly, a smile illuminated her cherubic face, her toothless gum peeking through.

In that moment, Waylen's anxieties were assuaged. He pressed a kiss against the capsule, whispering, “Alexis, I am... Daddy."