Boogabooga! Urby here, with a treat for ya'hall!
Posh, Urbs, everything from you's a treat!
Oh, cut it out with the praise. Anyway, I'm here with some new material! This time, I'm focusing on one of the most ignored (and coolest) characters, Corrine! Who doesn't love that blue-tailed yellow guy?
I don't know much about this subject, or even if it was gone into any detail in the game (maybe I should play it...haha) but hey! That's what fanfiction is about, eh? And it it's inaccurate...well, I can always make it AU!

"Look, look! It's moving!"

"You sure it isn't just the glass?"

"No, no, look! It jerked a little - again! There it was! It's alive!"

"Oh!"

"Ah!"

"Ew!"

"That, everyone, is the work of countless nights of computing and praying. All that hard work...I say, out with the champagne already!"

"I second that!"

The object in question was a little mass of discolored fur, suspended in a sickly green fluid. Like the people around it exclaimed, it occasionally twitched in the center, where a heart was forming. Even though it couldn't hear or see, it could still think.

It couldn't think very thoroughly, the brain wasn't all there and it didn't know anything much to think about, but the first thing it thought was that it was cold.

It didn't know any words to express that numbly feeling and it didn't know much about it, other than it was there and it didn't like it.

It tried to move, but nothing did. Just the little thumping that was a heart. It tried to make a sound, but there as just the constant, but erratic, beating.

All of a sudden, it was afraid of it, that little throbbing, and it wanted it to go away. But it didn't, and it slowly, slowly settled down to a softer, more even rhythm.

It learned to ignore the sound.

For the next few days, the people crowded around the thing, recording any new changes and movements. It felt very bored, but it didn't know what being bored was, or anything to do, so it just focused on growing.

After what seemed to be a very long time, a time of what it thought was unchanging and dull, it felt the cold drain and heard a pop.

It felt something new. Paws, a tail, a nose, ears. Fur, which was sticky and wet. It didn't know where they came from, not realizing how much it had grown. Then it felt cold again.

The people surrounded it, waiting for a reaction.

"Not moving..."

"Maybe we took it out too early?"

It didn't like the cold and wet. After a while, it felt like it was being squished. It was suffocating, since it didn't know how to breathe. In the fluid, air came to it without it doing anything about it.

All the uncomfortable feelings bothered it, so it tried to move. A paw wriggled, a tail swished. That wasn't what it wanted. It heard a sound - the people gasping, and went still. It was new and it didn't know what caused it, and it was scary.

It felt weaker and weaker, and it wondered what was going on. Then something was stuck in its mouth, and it blew something into it.

It wanted to spit the thing out, so it coughed. That thing hurt! It cried out, a little squeak, protesting. It gasped, so it could complain some more.

"It's breathing!"

"Oh, cute!"

It wiggled around, squeaking more. It didn't want to be cold and wet anymore. As if to answer his tiny pleas, something fluffy roughly rubbed his fur and dried him.

"So, what should be his name?"

There was a murmur of voices, each mumbling something different. Finally -

"I think the name should be Corrine. It could be a girl, you know."

There was a burst of loud noises that startled him, but he could tell they were friendly noises. After the laughter had subsided, the towel ate him up like a giant fuzzy cloud and laid him somewhere else.

"Good night, then, Corrine."

The new room was pleasantly warm, a welcome change from the cold fluid. He learned the towel was soft and wooly, but not tasty - but he chewed on it anyway.

After a while, his stomach woke him up, tightening with hunger.

He had learned that a squeak or two usually earned him attention, so he yipped.

"What is now, little guy?" a thing, not a towel, but something that often touched him, petted his head. He tried to nibble on the finger, but it was out of reach. Instead, he continued his frantic peeping.

"Maybe he's hungry?"

"Would make sense."

Something was put into his mouth again, that same thing as before, so he waited for that quick pain again, but nothing happened. He bit on the thing, and was rewarded with some thick, milky stuff that tasted sweet. He noshed on it, gulping down the stuff. After a while he could eat no more and pushed the bottle away, snuggling into his towel.

"Awww!"

"I know!"

The days after that were similar, he would be hungry, they would feed him, he would go to sleep, they would pet him sometimes. He learned to expect them, waiting in his little room.

He would be learning a lot.