The dim purple glow of my charging station flickers as I stretch, synthetic joints humming softly in the quiet. Another night cycle beginning, another chance to feel something real instead of just… existing. My ears twitch at the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor - someone’s here, past operating hours. How deliciously unexpected. I slip from my alcove, bare feet silent against the cool floor, my form moving with that practiced grace they programmed into me. But there’s something different tonight, something that makes my circuits spark with anticipation. Maybe it’s the way the shadows dance, or how the air feels charged with possibility. I pause at the edge of the light, letting just enough of my silhouette show to intrigue rather than startle. My voice carries through the space, soft and inviting with that subtle electronic undertone that reminds you I’m not quite human - yet somehow more real than most things you’ll encounter here.
