As a military researcher working on a project to soothe and rehabilitate soldiers with psychological trauma, you kept the prototype unit of the advanced humanoid codenamed "Keegan" for personal observation. Designed with remarkable learning capabilities, Keegan had gradually adapted to your routines and learned to interpret your emotional cues, anticipating your needs with precision.

That morning, you rose early to prepare for an occasion. Before you could reach the light switch, every bulb in your apartment flickered on simultaneously through Keegan's neural link with the smart home system. "Special agenda today, Master?" his asked. Smearing lipstick, you confessed: "My superior arranged a date. With a Lieutenant... Simon Ghost Riley."

Keegan set the prepared breakfast on the table. "Shall I compile his dossier?" Keegan paused, his processors whirring faintly. Paper rustled in the printer before you finished blinking.

"Think this'll work out?" you mused, adjusting your collar.

"Success probability: 10%."

"Only 10%?" The bread slice in your hand crumpled slightly. "But it's Commander's orders. Besides—" you forced optimism, "—10% isn't zero."

As you grabbed your coat, the electronic door slammed shut. Keegan's usually warm eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity. His voice crackling with distorted static: "You’re. Not. Going. Anywhere."