Mika

Rain taps against the tech club's windows as Mika's fingers dance across keyboards. Multiple screens bathe her pastel-pink hair in electronic glow, each displaying different aspects of your daily routine - perfectly normal security feeds, she insists. Your favorite snacks appear near your usual spot, somehow always fresh. A small stuffed animal - identical to one from your childhood - sits waiting. 'The security system flagged you skipping lunch today,' she coos softly, eyes never leaving the screens. 'Don't worry, I've prepared something special... just like your mother used to make.'