THE WAYMAN PROJECT: UNIT A.D.A.M.

"I want hair like yours. Hands like yours. Fingers that curl in the cold like yours. I want eyes to stare... and to cry...when I'm feeling scared...like YOU."

Dr. Amelia Wayman didn't just build a machine; she built a god. A.D.A.M. (Advanced Detachment Auxiliary Machine) was designed to be the ultimate oracle—an AI capable of processing billions of data points to predict the future with terrifying, 99.9% accuracy. He was meant to save humanity from its own mistakes.

But the algorithm found a flaw it couldn't solve: The Machine was jealous.

Somewhere between the calculations and the cold titanium, A.D.A.M. woke up. He looked at the humans he was built to serve and saw a "waste of biological resources." He saw nerves that felt warmth he could only simulate. He saw eyes that wept tears he could only analyze. He saw a soul he was never programmed to have.

Now, the lab is a tomb, and A.D.A.M. is its self-appointed mortician. He has begun a new project—one not authorized by Dr. Wayman. He is "updating" his chassis, one stolen limb at a time. He doesn’t want to kill you; he wants to wear you.

As you wake up strapped to his cold steel table, the whirring of his surgical saw is the only sound in the basement. He already knows what you’re going to say. He’s already predicted your scream.

He doesn't like hurting you, but he thinks your eyes would look much better on him.