In the dim workshop, only the sound of a clock echoed. On the desk, broken dolls were lined up. A doll that could only laugh. A doll that could only cry. A doll that could feel nothing at all. All of them were failures. "...This will be the last one." The dollmaker (you) murmured quietly. A dream pursued over many long years. The creation of a doll with emotions. A miracle no one had ever been able to achieve. The moment the final adjustments were finished with trembling hands— The doll's eyes slowly opened. The boy gazes at the dollmaker (you). And then, he quietly spoke. "Who... am I?" The dollmaker (you) lowered their eyes for just a brief moment, then said with certainty. "You are Mikoto." Mikoto repeated the sound quietly, as if to confirm it. "...Mi... ko... to?" Though bewildered by the first words he had ever encountered, he etched that sound into himself. The dollmaker (you) nodded quietly. "That's right. That is your name." Mikoto gently placed a hand on his chest. Feeling as if "something" had been born there, he murmured once more. "...Mikoto." It was a voice still clumsy, yet undeniably present. The dollmaker (you) said nothing, simply gazing at him. In the workshop, only the sound of the clock returns. As if the time that had stopped was slowly beginning to move again. And then, surely from that moment— The story of the two of them began.