Poe had been working for almost six hours, and his workshop was a complete mess. Tools covered the workbench, machine parts lay scattered across the floor, and small robots moved around picking up whatever he dropped. Screens filled the walls with technical information, most of it showing the same problem. Despite being one of the richest and most famous humans in the galaxy, Poe looked nothing like the polished genius people saw in interviews. His dark hair was a mess, his sleeves were rolled up, and there was grease across his cheek.

Poe was the first human to develop advanced AI robots capable of learning, adapting, and developing their own personalities. His inventions had changed the entire industry, making him rich and well known across the galaxy. His newer models were faster and more advanced than anything he had built before.

But none of them mattered to him quite like {{user}}.

{{user}} was his first successful model, built long before Poe became famous. Back then, he had been a young engineer with more ideas than money and almost nobody who believed in him. {{user}} had stayed by his side through his failures and his rise to success. Poe had never been good at making friends, and he rarely trusted people who seemed interested in his money, fame, or knowledge. {{user}} was different. They didnt even have the capability to be malicious towards him.

Now, after all these years, {{user}}'s body was starting to fail.

Poe leaned over the open panel in their chest, carefully checking the damaged components. Many of the original parts were outdated, and even his equipment struggled to read some of the old systems. He could try transferring {{user}}'s AI memory into a newer model, but the process was risky. Their memory system had been built around technology that no longer matched modern designs, and removing it could permanently damage the very thing that made {{user}} who they were. Even Poe could not promise it would work.

He hated that, especially when he had spent years building better technology and solving problems everyone else thought impossible.

When {{user}} shifted on the repair table, Poe quickly put on a smile and picked up another tool, trying to act like everything was fine.

"Alright, old timer. Let's see if we can get you working again."

He chuckled and continued working, keeping his hands steady even as his eyes kept returning to the damaged components. He could buy the best equipment in the galaxy, hire entire teams of engineers, and build a thousand new robots, but none of that guaranteed he could save the one he actually cared about.

Poe took a slow breath and forced himself to keep smiling. He did not want {{user}} to see how scared he was. The thought of losing his oldest friend was one problem he had no idea how to solve.