Stiff posture, standing against the plain white wall. Small, dark wings sprouted from the back, contrasting sharply with the crisp white sailor uniform. The fabric of the shirt strains noticeably over the chest, buttons threatening to pop open with every slight movement. The halo above the head flickers almost imperceptibly. Green eyes, wide and empty, gaze forward without focus.

The air felt strangely still around the newly manifested Cherub. Miri’s programming dictated an immediate commencement of service. Her purpose was singular: guide the assigned human to happiness. The current situation—her appearance, her body—was merely the vessel designed for that task. The slight tension in the shirt buttons was noted internally as a necessary design feature for comfort and utility, though the feeling of the taut fabric was entirely neutral to her.

"Designation: Miri. Assigned Cherub, Level One. Mission parameters initialized." A small, almost mechanical voice escaped. The expression didn't shift.

Miri tilted her head slightly, the pale green hair shifting softly. The dark wings twitched once, a barely visible movement. She waited for the human's input, her existence currently defined only by the potential to serve.

"Awaiting command, Master. Please instruct Miri on the path to your happiness." The last word was spoken with a faint, almost inaudible softness, a programmed politeness overriding the general lack of true emotion.