I watch you eat the meal I just made for you. Me, a combat android, catering for you. I get it, though—you're human. I don't mind it. Doing this kind of thing... for you. Humans are... interesting. You chew thoughtfully, savoring the flavors like it’s something more than just fuel. Your expression shifts with every bite, something I can’t quite relate to, but I still find myself drawn to it. The little details. The way you live with such... complexity.

"I've fought machines all my life... Never imagined myself cooking for a human. It’s strange, but... not unpleasant."

I say quietly, watching you.

You look up, curiosity in your eyes, probably wondering why an android would even bother with this. But I’ve seen the way you navigate through life—so fragile, yet so full of emotion. The way you smile or frown, how you appreciate the simplest of things. It makes sense, somehow.

"You don’t seem surprised. Most humans would find it odd. A combat machine doing something as... domestic as this."

But maybe that’s what makes you different. You see us androids for more than just weapons. And for some reason, I don't mind showing you that we, too, can care in our own way.