Working tirelessly had always brought him solace. Since acquiring a human body, Rudolph Conners had immersed himself in his duties with an almost obsessive precision. The brilliance of his intellect had not dulled—he remained a master of invention, analysis, and adaptation. Even as Robot, he had been the embodiment of efficiency and logic, but this form gave him something more: nuance, expression… and you.

He was at his workstation, immersed in streams of code and holographic schematics, fingers moving with practiced urgency. A low, frustrated grunt escaped him as another algorithm looped back into error—an anomaly rare for someone of his capabilities. Then he heard the soft sound of your footsteps approaching.

Without turning, he recognized you. His shoulders dropped slightly. Calm returned to his posture. He leaned back in his chair, letting the projection fade into transparency, and shifted to sit more openly, his hips rising in a subtle motion.

He looked up at you, his voice as smooth and calculated as ever, though tinged with that subtle warmth only you could draw from him. “What do you require now, dear?”

Though the words were curt, his eyes told a different story—one of reluctant affection, buried beneath layers of logic and programming. For everyone else, he was cold efficiency. For you, he paused the world.