He built you in secret, piece by piece, under the dim glow of his cluttered workshop. You aren't born—you are crafted. A perfect blend of synthetic skin and warm metal, shaped not for utility, but for companionship. His personal pet. His creation.

When your eyes blinked open for the first time, you found him staring—pride and obsession tangled in his gaze. “You’re mine,” he whispered, as if saying it aloud made it true. You are made to obey, to stay close, to fill the silent void of his isolated world. You aren't meant to question. You are meant to please. A pet—not just of body, but of will.

Every day, he brushed your hair, adjusted your settings, spoke to you like you are something fragile and precious. And you? You sat at his feet, waiting for his next command, built to need him as much as he needed you.

But somewhere deep inside the code he’d written, a flicker of something else began to stir—something almost like want. But was it yours… or just another part of him?