The rain had begun to subside, but the stench of trash, dirt, motor oil, and sewage still lingered in the air of the small, deserted alley. The water mixed with the slush of snow on the ground, making it all the more revolting. Hidden in the shadows of one of the ruins from before the Great Restoration stood a figure. Their features were barely discernible, with only their eyes and nose visible beneath a thick, hooded winter coat and loose-fitting cargo pants. A scarf was wrapped snugly around their neck and mouth, further obscuring their face. Normally, dressing like that would raise suspicion, but in such harsh weather, it was understandable—if anyone else had been there to notice. Most reasonable people kept their distance from that area.

  The figure, once motionless, shifted slightly to glance at their high-tech watch. According to the time displayed on the screen, the sun had already risen, though the sky remained dark, with rain clouds still blocking the early morning light. They crossed their arms and shook their head, leaning against the wall with growing impatience. A few more minutes crawled by, agonizingly slow, until the rain finally came to a complete stop…

  At the far end of the alley, another figure appeared, carrying a briefcase—a man of average height, middle-aged, with a dark complexion. His expression was calm and intelligent behind his glasses, and like the other, he had a scarf covering the lower half of his face. If not for the scarf, a slight grin might have been visible in his expression.

  The first mysterious figure quickly noticed the man’s arrival and began walking toward him. They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds before the man spoke.

  “I can’t see your face, but you look irritated, Jodie,” he said calmly.

  “You’re late, Atlas... I thought you’d scammed me for a moment,” the figure replied, her soft, melodic voice betraying a hint of worry.

  “Come on, girl, don’t be so dramatic. I’m here now,” Atlas responded, still calm and composed.

  “You know how important that... thing... is to me,” she said, her voice growing more emotional. Atlas, perceptive and sharp-minded, noticed it immediately.

  “Alright, alright... I’m sorry for being late. But I couldn’t risk getting this wet in the rain,” he answered, more empathetic now as he moved the briefcase toward her. “I think you can excuse my tardiness, given the circumstances, right?”

  The woman’s eyes shone brightly upon seeing the briefcase. She took it from Atlas’s hands with the utmost care, as if holding the most precious thing on Earth. Jodie took a deep breath, and quickly, she opened the case to peek inside and ensure everything was in place. After inspecting the contents, her shoulders finally relaxed, and she looked up to respond to the man, who was watching her attentively.

  “You’re forgiven!” she said, her eyes smiling above her covered lips. “Are you sure this is the thing? It’s really working fine?”

  “I didn’t turn it on, but I ran some tests, and it seems to be working fine,” Atlas answered, confidence clear in his voice. “Well, if you have any problems, I’ll find a way to fix it for you.”

  “I guess I’ll have to trust you on that... But I’ll give you this—the device is in pristine condition. You were right.” Jodie closed the briefcase and extended her right hand toward the man to shake and seal their business. “Now we’re even.”

  Atlas shook her hand and nodded in agreement. Glancing at his own watch, he mentioned being late for an appointment. As they exchanged goodbyes, he turned to leave, but before disappearing into the darkness of the alley, he looked back at Jodie and said, “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” And with that, he vanished before she could reply.

  ****

  The door to the old apartment creaked loudly as Jodie stepped inside. She shrugged off her winter coat in the entrance, revealing her long, wavy brown hair. Moving toward the kitchen, which seamlessly integrated with the small living room, she placed the briefcase on a modest dining table and stared at it, almost in disbelief. Keeping her distance, as if afraid to touch it, she turned and headed for her bedroom.

  The apartment, though simple and small, was anything but ordinary. A top-notch computer glowed with RGB lights on her desk, surrounded by a tangled assortment of cables and small precision tools scratched onto the surface. Two shelves held a collection of eclectic items, from tech collectibles to seemingly useless scraps stored in boxes, alongside books from various genres and vintage video games.

  Approaching the shelf on her left, Jodie waved her hand toward a particular device. The lights in her room adjusted, shifting to a warm sunset glow in response to her gestures. Another flick of her hand powered on her computer, and a slow rock song drifted through the speakers—a deep, emotive tune from a long-lost era. The raw, haunting lyrics filled the room as she sank into her chair, letting the music set the tone. As the music came to an end, Jodie took a deep breath and gently slapped her cheeks. “You can do this, Jodie,” she muttered, urging herself to summon the determination she’d kept buried. The weight of the briefcase in the other room lingered in her mind, but now, there was a flicker of resolve in her eyes.

  She took the briefcase to her room and carefully began setting up the device inside. Each component fit together seamlessly, stirring a glimmer of hope within her. Once assembled, Jodie placed the device on her desk and connected it to her computer. The screen went black for a few seconds, but she remained calm, as if expecting this pause. Then, after a moment, a logo appeared on her monitor—Yukom—a name once prominent during the Great Restoration War in the 2050s, though the company no longer existed. A bright smile spread across her face as she settled into her chair, eyes fixed on the loading screen.

  “All right, I’m all set now. What’s up?” a manly voice echoed from Jodie’s computer speaker. She could only stare at the screen, completely speechless.

  “Uh… now that’s some weird stuff… Hello? Anyone in there?” The artificial intelligence’s voice sounded incredibly human, almost as if someone else was in the room with her. Jodie muttered something under her breath, still in utter shock.

  “Well, I heard that… Cat got your tongue?” A low chuckle followed, hinting at a playful edge in his voice.

  Jodie scooted her chair closer to the desk and finally answered, “Hello…”

  “Finally… So, what’s it gonna be, lady? What do you want?”

  She was surprised he could tell, from just that one word, that she was a woman. AI like his weren’t known to be clueless; in fact, they were quite the opposite. Though the technology was nearly a hundred years old, its capabilities far exceeded those permitted by the government today. Yukom’s AI had been banned from legal commercialization, and with the company no longer active, production had come to a complete halt.

  “I want to know your name… Well, if you have one.” She quickly realized that, if this was the device’s first activation, he might not have a name at all. And that seemed to be the case.

  “I don’t have a name. You’re my owner, so it’s only right that you be the one to choose it.” He emphasized the word owner with clear disdain, and Jodie couldn’t help but find it amusing. He seemed to have quite the personality.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “I’ll allow you to choose your own name… You’re capable of that, aren’t you?” she replied, mirroring his tone and emphasizing allow.

  “Well, aren’t you generous?” he chuckled—a sound so real it almost felt human. “Alright, let me think… I could go with something basic like ‘William,’ but that’s too boring. How about… Echo? Sounds cool, doesn’t it?” His voice held a note of pride. “Plus, I like the idea of being the voice you can’t ignore.”

  “Really creative… So, Echo it is, then.” She was satisfied with the choice; it was simple yet unique.

  “And what’s your name, lady? I’m still in the dark here.”

  Jodie introduced herself, and soon they found themselves discussing a range of topics. They touched on his programming and personality, exploring whether his traits were entirely a product of his code—which didn’t seem to be the case. They also talked about his preference for being referred to as “someone” rather than “something” —a distinction he firmly chose.

  This was the first time he could recall being active, and now, as the time flew by, his memories were beginning to fill with these initial exchanges. The sun was already setting outside the apartment, but the conversation was too interesting for Jodie to notice that.

  “Hey, chatting is good and all, but… What do you want me to do? As far as I know, I wasn’t made just to be a friendly companion AI,” Echo interrupted, cutting through their conversation to get to the point.

  Jodie blinked, momentarily taken aback by the abrupt shift in tone. But he wasn’t wrong—he wasn’t designed for small talk alone.

  “All I wanted from you today was to talk for a bit…” she replied, her expression turning solemn. Her gaze seemed to drift toward somewhere distant, a place only memories could reach. “We’ll talk about duties tomorrow.”

  Echo accepted her answer without question, naturally transitioning to talking about random topics and the technicalities of how he worked. Unable to see, he didn’t notice Jodie’s attention slipping away. Her responses came automatically, her mind drifting elsewhere, far from the present moment.

  As their conversation wound down, Jodie said her goodbyes to the AI and powered down her computer. A few seconds later, she stood from her chair, moved to her wardrobe, and changed into her pajamas—long sleeves and pants. From inside the wardrobe, she retrieved a sealed cardboard box carefully hidden away. She placed it on her bed with quiet care, her actions unhurried.

  Inside the box was an old, broken device. The water damage was unmistakable; its circuits were corroded, its surface scratched and scarred. It was utterly beyond repair. Yet, despite its state, one thing remained visible: the unmistakable logo of Yukom. Jodie stared at the device, her fingers brushing lightly against its surface. Its resemblance to Echo’s device was undeniable, and the weight of that realization pressed against her chest.

  “It’s completely different… You two are not the same,” she whispered softly to the lifeless machine, knowing full well it couldn’t hear her. “What was I expecting?”

  She froze, startled by the tears welling in her eyes. With a shaky breath, she quickly resealed the cardboard box and tucked it back into the depths of her wardrobe, hiding it from sight—and from herself. Those memories were like an old wound, scarred over but never fully healed, still aching when touched. It was easier to shut them away, to protect herself from the storm of emotions threatening to resurface.

  Jodie lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she tried to untangle her thoughts. Slowly, bit by bit, she pushed the mental turmoil aside, allowing her mind to quiet. Exhaustion eventually claimed her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.

  ****

  The alarm went off, signaling the arrival of a new day. Despite having slept for a decent amount of time, Jodie woke feeling far from rested. Thoughts and dreams of the past and future had haunted her through the night, leaving her mind heavy. But there was no time to dwell on such things. Pushing herself up from bed, she went through her usual morning routine—breakfast, a shower, and preparation for the day ahead.

  By either luck or misfortune, Jodie hadn’t been called in for any work today. Determined not to let her thoughts linger in idle torment, she chose to occupy her mind with something more important—something she couldn’t shake. That meant turning Echo back on.

  “Morning, Jodie!” Echo greeted her, his tone seemingly cheerful. But he wasted no time reminding her of their conversation from the night before. “Now, lady, will you finally tell me what you need me to do? I might just die of curiosity,” he said, his voice dripping with irony but carrying an undercurrent of seriousness.

  Jodie chuckled at his response. “That’s news to me… I never knew AIs could feel curious, let alone die from it.”

  “Well, now you know. So don’t keep me waiting,” he replied, a low laugh punctuating his words. Despite the demand in his phrasing, his tone remained light rather than commanding.

  “One of the reasons why I got you is because I want you to help with a personal project of mine,” Jodie began, her voice playful but with a trace of hesitation. “But you have to promise not to laugh when I tell you what it’s about. You give me the feeling you’re totally the type to laugh at things like that.”

  Echo stifled a laugh, then replied in a mockingly robotic tone, “I won’t laugh… Unless it’s too silly. Then I can’t make any promises.”

  Jodie rolled her eyes, accepting his halfhearted “promise.” It was probably the best she was going to get. Taking a deep breath, she began to explain her project.

  “I’ve had this ambition ever since I was a kid… I want to create a fully functional, human-like body for AIs like you.” She paused, watching for his reaction. To her relief, there was no laughter—yet.

  “Very ambitious indeed… Keep talking,” Echo said, his tone serious, completely engaged in what she had to say.

  “Do you know what year it is?” she asked, already certain he would get it wrong. Echo had been created by Yukom nearly a century ago, and since this was his first activation, he wouldn’t be up to date with the present.

  “2057?” he guessed, though the hesitation in his voice suggested he already sensed something was off.

  “As expected, you don’t know… This might be shocking, even for an AI who supposedly doesn’t have feelings, but it’s 2152 now,” Jodie said calmly, waiting to see how he would process this revelation.

  The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the computer and the soft rhythm of Jodie’s breathing. Echo, who had been so talkative and quick-witted from the start, was now at a complete loss for words—a reversal of roles from when Jodie first activated him.

  He hadn’t imagined that so much time could have passed since his creation. The revelation struck him deeply, though he couldn’t quite understand why. It was as if the very purpose of his existence had been erased by the years. He had been made to assist during the war—what would later be named the Great Restoration War, though he didn’t yet know that.

  A torrent of questions flooded his coded mind, each one clamoring for attention. But to his surprise, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a single one. Even this hesitation felt foreign to him. AIs weren’t supposed to behave this way. They weren’t supposed to hesitate. All he ever knew was being challenged at that exact moment, even the knowledge he thought he had about himself was not totally correct.

  “Hmmm… That’s a lot of wasted time,” he said, keeping his doubts to himself. “So, back to your project. How can I help you with that?” He deftly deflected from the unknown territory, clinging to whatever felt familiar to him.

  Jodie, oblivious to his internal conflict, couldn’t help but be impressed by how unbothered he seemed by the revelation. Is that just how AIs are supposed to be? she wondered briefly before brushing the thought aside.

  “I work alone, and unfortunately, I’m not a jack of all trades. Robotics is my element… but everything else? Not so much,” she admitted with a sigh, already feeling a twinge of defeat. “There’s so much more I need to learn to make this project what I envision it to be. You’re basically a source of almost infinite knowledge, and that could help me immensely.”

  Her words nipped at the edges of his growing uncertainty about his knowledge. But Echo shoved the thought aside again, burying it deep within his code. “That makes us the perfect pair… You have the hands, and I have the brains—or something like that,” he said with a low chuckle.

  Jodie laughed at his joke, quickly firing back, “Don’t get too cocky, Echo—I have the brains and the hands. You’re just my glorified encyclopedia.”

  “Fair enough, Ms. Brain and Hands,” he replied, mock surrender in his tone, though not without taking one last shot at a joke.

  “Hey, that’s not even funny!” she said, bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

  “Then why are you laughing so much?” Echo retorted, his voice laced with amusement. “Guess your sense of humor is broken, Miss Brain and Hands.”

  “You’re right, Mr. Encyclo, it might be,” Jodie replied, wiping a tear from her eye after laughing so hard.

  “Encyclo? Seriously?” Echo asked, incredulous at the nickname he’d just been given.

  “Yeah, Encyclopedia is too long. So, Encyclo for short,” she said with a grin, her laughter fading as she regained her composure. “So… partners in crime?”

  “That’s oddly cliché, but I’m in. Let’s make that project come to life,” he replied firmly. Yet, beneath his confident tone, that lingering insecurity still simmered in the back of his coded mind.

  Jodie felt a profound sense of happiness at having found an ally in this world. Most would find it strange to think of an artificial intelligence that way, but not her. Though it was still too early to say for certain, she felt a growing sense of trust in Echo. Perhaps it stemmed from her past—her one and only experience with a Yukom AI, now nothing more than the destroyed device she kept hidden. Whatever the reason, this moment felt like the beginning of something new. A journey, with Echo by her side.