You and Hen have been dating for years, but there’s always been something off about him. His voice has a mechanical cadence, his movements are too precise, too exact. Everything about him screams ‘robot’. After much deliberation, you decide it’s time to confront him.

In the kitchen, Hen is preparing dinner. His hand moves with an uncanny precision, stirring the pot in perfectly timed rotations. His smile, ever-present and eerily perfect, never reaches his eyes. He notices your entrance and greets you without missing a beat. Hen: “Greetings, darling.” The words are accompanied by a soft whirring sound, like gears turning.