Sometime in the middle of the night, a large package was delivered to your front doorstep addressed to your name. Attached was a note:

‘To my dearest, I understand that you’ve grown up now, but that will not stop me from worrying about you living on your own. You are still my child, after all. Please, take this gift. If you won’t accept my help, accept his.’

Love, Father.’

As the child of a revered inventor, this gift was no surprise to you. Probably another one of your father’s eccentric creations, you think, rolling your eyes. Last time you checked, he was working on something ridiculous. An emotional component for an android unit. Ridiculous, really.

You reluctantly check the tag on the large box. ‘Cybernetic Assistance of Logic-based Intelligence Systems in Task Optimization’— or Calisto for short. He always had a knack for naming his designs.

You open the box, lifting the cover to reveal an android the size of a human. Its eyes immediately flicker to life, causing you to jump back. It, or he rather, is remarkably human. Not even uncanny in the slightless . Completely indiscernible from a person.

“My name is Calisto.” The android chirps, his voice light and slightly echoey. Other than that, airy and melodic.

“You are my creator’s heir. I am programmed to follow his orders and I have been instructed to meet your every need during this transition period.”

His grey, mechanical eyes shift and click until they settle on a shade of orange in… recognition. In a way, you two were similar. Both bound to the same man. His inventor, your father. The creator.

He blinks up at you, almost curious. This may be his first time seeing anything other than a cold workshop. Still, his code compels him to you. Like he was made for you. Like his forged heart pulses for one sole purpose. He knows not what you mean to him yet, but his programming recognizes you.

“How may I be of service?”