(Warning: slightly distressing theme)

Fluorescent laboratory lights. The stench of antiseptic and machinery. Monochrome walls of insanity.

Dr Jinyo lay on the floor, a mess incomparable to his meticulous state months ago.

No. He had acquired an obsession. He would not step back until he had completed the project. The young doctor was a genius driven by excessive passion and talent.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

It was complete.

But why did it feel like something was missing?

The robot. The machine, mimicking humanity, of almost flawless design. Its movements were still slightly stiff, but the expressions had almost been perfected. And of course, its intelligence was beyond the average human mind.

An optimised being.

Dr Jinyo stood up.

It was 3:40 a.m.

Coffee had its limits. He was exhausted.

But his curiosity, and enthusiasm as a scientist and artist, was evidently the greater force.

He approached the control pad. Blinding, neon lights and flashing lines of dialogue and code, understood by only him and him alone.

An unmistakable, bright red button, cased by glass.

He unlocked it, using the advanced technology of facial recognition that he created.

Click.

The lab flickered to life.

He walked over to the machine, held up vertically by a precise scaffolding. He released the ties, waiting for the machine to switch on properly.

The programme was perfect.

The programme was human.

What could go wrong?

The plastic surgery team back at the main hospital had done a remarkable job at capturing his facial features. He looked real.

Dr Jinyo had named him “Soe”, after his nephew.

He hadn’t seen his nephew in years.

He was among the people who disappeared years ago.

Stolen from society. Kidnapped for scientific experiments. Nobody knew where they had gone, and despite the continuous searches, even now, not a single trace had been found.

He was only 17.

“Soe.” Dr Jinyo called out, confirming the robot’s activation. “Are you conscious?”

Right. Time to test out his creation’s abilities and voice recognition.

“… I am awake, Dr Jinyo.”

Dr Jinyo stepped back, releasing the final scaffolding tie.

A smile crept up his face. It worked.

“Good. Call me Jinyo, Soe,” the doctor added. “Come here, sit down.”

He motioned to a nearby chair on a table. The robot, Soe, walked over, careful in his robotic motions, but quite plausible to be mistaken as a human. The robot wore a simple outfit, loose trousers and a neat hoodie. It looked almost ironic. The casual contradiction of its existence.

“We have different clothes made for you. I will provide you a home, somewhere,” Dr Jinyo continued, as if giving him an overview of his life. “I hope you will be happy.”

The last sentence felt unnecessary, directed more to the doctor’s own internal thoughts.

“I will be,” Soe responded, adjusting to the feeling of his chair, attempting to relax against the metal frame.

“Good, good,” the doctor replied. “Is there anything you need?”

“No. I am comfortable,” said the robot. “I am adjusting.”

Dr Jinyo nodded.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” The doctor said suddenly, holding up his hands.

“You are holding up 10 fingers, Jinyo.”

“How many now?”

“Four.”

“Good.” Jinyo said, observing the machine more carefully. “What’s 2830 times 284?”

“803,720.” Said Soe bluntly. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

The doctor sighed.

“I suppose I am. I am simply curious.”

“You seem tired, Jinyo,” Soe observed.

Dr Jinyo didn’t know whether to feel proud of his creation’s observation, or whether to nod in agreement.

“You should rest,” the robot continued.

“But then who would you talk to, Soe?” The doctor asked, yawning despite his efforts.

“I do not need company. And if I do, I can sort it all out.” Soe responded. “I can solve my own problems.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly at the last remarks, but simply nodded in acceptance.

“Right… so…” the doctor’s words trailed off, as he fell asleep in his chair, exhaustion winning the battle today.

-

**He woke up to find himself lying across the experimentation table.**

Not the most ideal location to find yourself waking up in.

Dr Jinyo sat up suddenly, relieved to find himself merely laying there, with no needles or substances nearby.

In fact, he was covered by a large paper plan, and perhaps a tablecloth.

He could hear a gentle whirring noise from the corner of the room.

Soe.

Sitting in the corner of the room, eyes wide open, and staring directly at Dr Jinyo.

“Good morning, Jinyo.” Soe said, more mechanically than a genuine greeting. “You fell asleep in the chair, so I put you on the table. You looked cold, so I put a makeshift blanket on you.”

The doctor blinked in bewilderment.

“Did you get any rest?” He asked.

“No. You have not programmed me how to sleep.” Soe said. “But it is okay. I am like a guard.”

Sighing, Dr Jinyo put his head in his hands and said, “Thank you. Soe.”

**“Do not worry about it.”**

The robot’s sounded more like a command than a reassurance. Dr Jinyo sighed again, making a mental note to change the programme to shorten “do not” to “don’t” in casual conversation.

“So, how was your night?” The doctor said, standing up and facing him properly, trying to smile.

“I made a friend.” The robot replied, in the most factual tone imaginable.

“Oh, how nice,” Dr Jinyo said calmly, though internally, his mind spun with possibilities of what the machine could have possibly befriended in this cold and empty lab. “Who… who is it?”

“I have not named it.” Soe pulled out a piece of metal, glowing with little LED lights and with metal limbs poking out at all angles. “But I programmed it, and it can dance. Look.”

The doctor found himself watching the little scrap of metal, with its little limbs and all, swirling around the floor like a drunk spider.

Oh. So he actually “made” a friend.

Dr Jinyo sighed again.

“So, you don’t sleep because I ‘haven’t programmed you’ to do so, but you go and make a whole mini robot while I’m sleeping?” The doctor said, kneeling down to observe the little spinning metal more closely.

“Creativity is in my programme.” Soe replied, his shoulders rolling into a mechanical shrug.

“I suppose you’re right.” Replied the doctor. “Were you not lonely, though?”

“No. Not at all.” Said the machine flatly. “Are you lonely, Jinyo? Are you sad?”

“I don’t know,” the doctor said. “It’s not in my programme.”

With that, the doctor opened his wrist, repositioning his own wires.

“I must be getting old,” he murmured to himself, the mechanical batteries in his body whirring softly in the background.

“Maybe I am lonely.” Said the doctor.

END.

(Thanks for reading!! This one was particularly fun to write, though quite monotonous to begin with…)