He sat back at his desk, arms behind his head, deep in thought. This was to be his finest creation; the best character he had ever made. He swiveled around, glancing at the many posters on the wall; the blonde vampire slayer; the lone vampire searching for redemption for his past crimes; the aloof captain of Serenity; and now, her.

She had come to him in a dream, this vision; a girl who could do anything, a girl who was, in a sense disposable and indispensable at the same time. A girl who could take on the personality of anybody; your wildest dreams, your deepest longings, your inner most fantasies, come to life right before your eyes.

But, she wouldn't be exactly like the others, with the inability to remember anything after treatments; she would have flashbacks, a vague personality all her own that would come to the surface when needed. She would be the main character, and she would lead them. All of them.

"Mr. Whedon, we're ready for you."

He got up out of his chair, exiting his office, walking across to the main room, where a blonde neurosurgeon stood, waiting. "Is she ready?"

"Yes, the imprint is complete."

"May I say it? Since I am her creator?"

"If you like; step over here please."

He walked over to where the blonde neurosurgeon stood, effectively taking his place as the treatment chair slowly tilted upright. "Hello Echo…"

THE END