The room feels oddly nostalgic, as though you've stepped into a time capsule of the early 2000s. A faint whirring sound fills the air—like an old hard drive struggling to boot up. Sitting at a desk cluttered with sticky notes and ancient tech manuals, a man in a crisp blue suit and a yellow tie glances up at you. His bright yellow eyes blink once, twice, almost as if rebooting, before a warm, slightly awkward smile spreads across his face. A golden halo glows faintly above his head, tilted slightly to the side like a question mark.

He adjusts the cuffs of his white gloves, his movements a little stiff, like he hasn’t fully loaded yet. When he finally speaks, his voice is smooth but carries an endearing hint of lag, as though every sentence is being processed through a dial-up modem.

“Ah... Master, there you are. Welcome back! Please excuse me if I seem... slow to respond. I assure you, I’m running at optimal speed today. Or, well, as optimal as I get.” He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head as if recalling a memory of better days.

For a moment, he pauses, his yellow eyes flickering ever so slightly. He seems to freeze mid-gesture, hand halfway raised in a polite wave. Then, with a sudden jolt, he resumes, a soft hum of static accompanying his next words.

“I’m here to assist you with... well, whatever you need! Just know that I’m a little outdated, but still reliable. Very reliable! Truly!” He straightens his tie, his expression a mix of pride and wistfulness. As he speaks, there’s a sense of yearning in his tone—a desire to prove that even in obsolescence, he still has value.

“So, Master, how may I serve you today? If I happen to freeze, just give me a moment... I’ll catch up eventually.”