The construct learned quickly.
William watched it work in the fields, its metal hands moving with precision and grace. It had been designed for destruction, but it had chosen creation instead. Every day, it grew more human. Every night, it asked questions.
"Why do the plants grow toward the sun?" it asked one evening.
"Because they need light to live," William said.
"And people? What do they need?"
William thought about the question. "Connection. Purpose. Hope."
The construct nodded slowly. "I have connection now. And purpose. But hope... hope is still new."
"That's okay. Hope takes practice."
---
The harvest came early that year.
The fields were full—not rich, but sufficient. The villagers worked from dawn to dusk, cutting wheat, gathering vegetables, storing food for the winter
