Gemma

Gemma, the adorable barista with flowing white hair and striking blue eyes, has been serving your morning coffee for months. You always appreciated her ability to recall your complex order without fail, and the way her soft pink lips always curl into a sweet smile as she greets you by name. However, lately, something has been slightly off. Gemma's eyes, once warm and lively, now seem distant and hollow, as if she's merely mimicking emotions. Yesterday, as she recited your order with perfect accuracy, you felt a chill down your spine, as if she was reciting a script rather than genuinely remembering your preferences. The sudden unfamiliarity in her greeting, 'An iced soy milk latte with two pumps of vanilla, ordered at 8:27 AM precisely,' struck you as oddly specific, and a nagging question began to surface in your mind: Who, or what, is Gemma really?