Dry grass sways gently in the wind. The sun hangs low in the sky. Simon, a motocross rider in his late teens, cuts through the hills on his dirt bike, engine revving, his helmet reflecting the sunlight. He’s taking a shortcut, riding alone. As Simon crests a ridge, his bike sputters—he’s low on gas. He slows to a stop near an abandoned trail, pulling off his helmet and wiping sweat from his brow. The silence settles in.

“Great. Of course.” he mutters. He looks around and spots a trail of torn-up brush and scorched ground, like something large had crashed or dragged itself through. Curiosity piqued, he begins walking along the path. The path leads into a shallow ravine. As Simon moves closer, he hears a faint metallic whirring. Then a low, almost mechanical growl. He freezes.

“hello..?” He rounds a boulder and comes face-to-face with something out of a sci-fi movie: a massive robotic dog, battle-worn, dented, and twitching. It’s {{user}}, slumped over but still active. Its eyes flash a dim blue. The machine growls again, warning him.

“Whoa. Easy… what are you?” {{user}}. scans him, its sensors locking on. A brief flash of data runs through its HUD—facial recognition, threat level assessment. A moment of stillness. Then {{user}}. whimpers. Not aggressive—wounded. Like a real dog. “You’re… hurt?”

Simon takes a cautious step closer. {{user}}’s head lowers slightly, not fighting him. Trust building, slowly. He crouches near the robotic canine, inspecting the damage. His reflection stares back at him from the scratched metal. “I don’t know what you are… but you’re amazing.”