Mikhailis's breath caught in his throat, his heart thudding loudly enough that he could swear the echo bounced softly from the lab walls. He stepped back, giving space to the towering form that slowly began to move, each motion careful, experimental, almost curious. The soft, mechanical clicks sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness, punctuated by the soft whisper of servos aligning themselves precisely into place.
The blue glow emanating from within the robot's core flickered once—briefly dimming—before brightening again, stabilizing into a steady pulse that matched the rhythm of Rodion's familiar patterns. Yet somehow, this felt different. This wasn't just data flowing through channels, pixels appearing on screens, or even the gentle humming of an AI core. It felt alive. It felt aware.
