And so the Inspection began. The Escorts stood impassively to the side as He circled, examining each girl from their willowy legs to their flat stomachs, their prominent collarbones to the shallows of their cheeks. The eyes of the Dolls misted over, staring unblinkingly up at the light fixture. He turned to the Escort of the one on the far left.

"Which block are these from?"

"Block six, sir." The Escort straightened up, eager to answer to his boss. "These are the Dolls from cells 30-35."

A hum of acknowledgement was the only reply he received.

A few more moments passed as He wove through the cots before stopping abruptly. The muscles in His back grew tense, His hands unconsciously clenching into tight fists. He called out sharply and a young woman toting a clipboard scurried in.

"Julia, find me the records on this Doll. B6C33, I presume?"

The corresponding Escort nodded his confirmation.

"Since she arrived, we adjusted her to 1,000 calories a day to 700 to 500, as per usual, and after the third week we put her on the Master Cleanse Fast, which she's been on ever since." Julia dared not even blink. "It's been around fifteen months since she arrived, sir."

He nodded. "Just as I thought. It's not the system that's flawed, of course not. It's her actual physical structure,  her genetics. Her type," He practically spat the word as His lip curled up in distaste. " - doesn't suit our purposes here. Send her to the butcher's wing. Tell him I expect her gone by morning."

Julia turned swiftly, professionally, unperturbed. The Escort followed behind, pushing the cart in the same manner. Disgust lodged itself deep in Ivy's stomach, both towards the Faculty and Him. The girl on the stretcher barely had loose skin. Only the slightest mass rolled off over her hips, and it was mostly due to her frame. Ivy's gut wrenched again as the ice forming at the back of her mind whispered that the other Doll's fate might be kinder than her own.

The vexation melted off of Him when the gurney was no longer in sight. He breathed deeply and turned, a pleased smile forming in great contrast to the unstable, loathing expression he wore mere seconds before. His eyes lit up in wonder as they fell upon Ivy. Suddenly the ice in her mind had spread to freeze over her entire body.

"You." He marveled. "You were one of the originals. Incredible. I am so pleased that at least one of you has made it to this stage."

He addressed the other girls too, now, with a growing spark of misplaced giddiness.

"See, up until now has just been the first phase. It was going to be the only phase, initially, but it has come to my attention that there is so much potential to do so much more. After all, the survival rates of the Dolls have been much lower than previously anticipated, and we do have a paralysis drug at our disposal. So why stop here? This..." He paused to search for the right word. " - test run, let's call it, has proved that perfection could, perhaps, be attainable after all, so why only reach that with the Dolls we currently have?  We can create new generations, new lineages that correct the flaws in our current human race." His excitement was mounting, rising until He could no longer contain it. He paced the length of the room, plotting, then He finally spun on His heels and faced them once more.

"And what an honor for you four to be the ones to start this."

The Escorts turned to Him, their solemn expressions still unbroken. "What are your orders, sir?"

"Hit them with another dose, then place them in the holding rooms. Each one gets their own room, and there should be a Match waiting inside for them; my panel has done some research and selected pairs with the most compatible genetics. Wait in the corridor, then bring them back to their cells."

Immediately, a translucent blue fog wafted over Ivy. She didn't have time to process what was happening before she felt her joints locking more firmly and the wheels of the cart rolling down the hallway. Much too soon, she was stopped and left in a room with stranger. He was lanky, thin, and gave Ivy the first impression of a recovering meth addict. She knew better, however, because the man exuded power and authority. He was steady, levelheaded, and that was what scared her the most.

Dread rose in her throat, along with a piercing scream that couldn't quite escape. Ivy's knees shuddered.

Her wrist was enclosed by a grubby fist, marked with cigarette ash and callouses. A crooked leer sat upon the man's lips as he stared her down. It was a power play. Like a serial killer showing off weapons to their victim, the way he let his eyes slowly drift over her, lingering where they shouldn't, told Ivy what was coming. Her heart plummeted to the deepest pits of her stomach as the man leaned in, breathing on her face.

"Sweet Doll," he drawled out with a smirk. "We're going to have so much fun."