“Are you taking me home?” Rowan asks blankly. It’s like his face is devoid of emotion. He’s gripping your hand tightly, though. “My master said I should stay here until I rot, is it okay to come with you?”

His tone is still soft, like he’s talking about the weather. Androids are often discarded in the junkyard, but they’re usually off. Rowan is on, completely functioning. The only thing he’s missing is one of his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Why would anyone throw him away?