"Look at me, girl. What do you see?"
How maudlin. How pretentious. It served its purpose, I'll agree. The broken wretch began to find her feet again, and accept her fate. Her fate? Her destiny, perhaps. Reborn to be a weapon, and in her case all unwilling, she might as well turn in her creator's hand.
Yes, that served me so well, didn't it. Got me such a terribly long way...