Finn jolted awake in the pre-dawn darkness, his pulse racing beneath his skin. The phantom sensations of his former life - the musty apartment air, the distant city sounds - dissolved as reality crystallized around him. Dew had settled on his skin during the night, and the forest canopy above shifted with the morning breeze.
His body ached as he rose from the crude bed of vegetation. The makeshift garments he wore, woven from broad leaves and pliable vines, provided basic coverage but little protection from the elements. Morning mist clung to the ground around him, turning the forest into something otherworldly.
"My Lord." The voice carried clearly through the morning air.
The green-eyed woman materialized from the mist, her movements fluid yet unnaturally precise. Her features held that distinct perfection that marked all his creations - too symmetrical, too flawless to be human. Four others stood at cardinal points around the clearing, their vigilance unwavering.
"Status report," Finn said, his voice still rough with sleep.
"The perimeter remains secure. No hostile activity detected during the night watch." Her words carried no inflection, no emotion.
Finn observed the clearing as dawn slowly brightened the sky. His creations moved with mechanical efficiency through their tasks - gathering materials, fashioning primitive tools, reinforcing structures. Their movements held an unsettling grace, devoid of human imperfection or hesitation.
"What did the scouts find?" he asked, noting the absence of several search parties.
The green-eyed woman's posture shifted minutely. "We located a river system three miles east. The water is clean, fish are plentiful, and the terrain offers natural defensive advantages." She paused. "We encountered resistance. Six of our number fell to predator attacks - bears and wolves defending their territory."
The news settled like lead in Finn's stomach. "Casualties? You're certain?"
"Their bodies have been recovered for your inspection, my Lord. They fought effectively but were overwhelmed by superior numbers."
Grief and responsibility warred in his chest. These beings existed because of him, their deaths lay at his feet. "We'll establish better protocols," he said, steel entering his voice. "Regular patrols, early warning systems. We cannot afford such losses."
His creation acknowledged the order with a precise nod, her face remaining as impassive as carved stone. Finn searched her features for any sign of mourning for her fallen companions, but found nothing behind those perfect green eyes.
The scouts' reports revealed their isolation in stark detail. They inhabited untamed wilderness, unmarked by human presence. No settlements, no ruins, not even ancient traces of civilization. The landscape stretched vast and primordial in every direction, beautiful and lethal in its indifference.
"We move to the river," Finn declared, the decision crystallizing in his mind. "The water source is essential, and we can establish better defenses there."
His creations responded with synchronized acknowledgment, beginning their preparations with practiced efficiency. Finn closed his eyes and reached deep within himself, accessing that well of power that still felt foreign in his chest. Two hundred more beings materialized around him, each one flawless and vacant, ready to serve. The exertion left him lightheaded and drained.
The journey tested his mortal limitations. While his creations moved tirelessly across the difficult terrain, Finn struggled with each step. The sight of the river, when they finally reached it, struck him with its pristine beauty - clear water flowing between rocky banks, the sound of it a constant symphony.
"Establish the camp," he ordered, fighting to steady his breathing. "Build shelters, set up defensive positions. Make this place secure."
The transformation of the riverbank was remarkable to witness. His creations worked with tireless precision, constructing rudimentary shelters and defensive works. As darkness fell, Finn watched them from beside the newly built fire pit, contemplating their nature.
They were magnificent in their way - powerful, untiring, absolutely loyal. They required no sustenance, no rest, never questioned their purpose. Yet their perfection came at the cost of something essential - the spark of individual will, the capacity for genuine emotion.
The stars emerged overhead, brilliant without the pollution of city lights to dim them. Finn felt the weight of his new reality settling around him. Since losing his parents, he'd been adrift, moving through life without direction or purpose. Now fate had thrust him into this role, for better or worse.
Tomorrow would bring fresh challenges - the need for better shelter, weapons, organization, some form of governance. But for now, he allowed himself to rest, the river's constant voice mixing with the sounds of his creations at work in the darkness.
As sleep approached, his thoughts turned to the future - uncertain and dangerous, but finally filled with purpose and possibility.