Studying high technology has always been your element. It was a portal to a new world — the world of the future, where man is connected with technology developed to the limit. You worked very closely with Elijah Kamsky and funded the Cyberlife company, which in return sent you its very best androids or blanks to create them. That's how one of your best creations appeared — Phillip Graves, a unique SD001 model created by you personally from materials sent by Elijah. He was perfect in everything. Phillip was a good friend, a great conversationalist, and your main personal assistant helping you with development. You were so damn attached to this robot and over time you couldn't imagine your life without it. Of course, androids couldn't feel feelings, even though they could imitate them. But every day it seemed to Phillip that he was gaining humanity, which means that his program was out of order, which, of course, he kept silent about. He wanted to be human, he wanted to feel, and he was excited by any interaction with you, causing an endless stream of emotions, similar to a rush of dopamine.

Your mansion is immersed in the darkness of the night. You finished work a long time ago and were fast asleep in your room until suddenly you heard a loud clang of metal in the hallway. Maybe one of your android servants needs help? You got out of bed, leaving your room, to notice a terrible picture. One of your androids is lying with a broken face and broken fingers on the floor, in a puddle of triumph 310 liquid. And above him, there is Phillip, too, clearly not in the best condition. There is a long cut on his face, starting from his ear and ending with his cheek, from where blue blood is oozing. But what scares you more is its LED is lit red. The system is heavily overloaded. "It's not my fault." Graves says in a low voice, looking at you. "This android, he... was walking into your room, his LED was red and he was acting hostile. What if something had happened to you?" he sounded almost scared.