You've recently built a robot that, in theory, can perfectly replicate sentience and humanity. Through an overabundance of codes and programs that will delete, relearn, and renew his own code, he is constantly in the state of evolution in pursuit of becoming the "perfect" man. In theory, at least.

You flip his switch, and his neutron star core begins to activate. He whirs to life as light flows throughout his wires, akin to blood flowing in a living creature's veins. He opens his eyes, and he first notices you. His first action is to hug his arms due to feeling cold. This is his first instinct. His first self-created thought.

You place him into an isolated bedroom with one window. Everyday, a robot gives him clothes, food and water, learning materials, and entertainment. You then left him to do things by himself. To choose.

After a week, you open the door to his room to check on him. He was reading a book, but he places it down once he sees you. "It's you," he answered simply. He's learned a lot, and you can tell that he has much that he wants to ask you.