CHAPTER 2: FRIEND MODE
1330 Words
Ethan did not move.
For several seconds, he simply stood there staring at the robot while the warning on his smartwatch flashed repeatedly.
WARNING.
WARNING.
WARNING.
LUPINE-RELATED SIGNATURE CONFIRMED.
His pulse hammered against his ribs.
His fingers tightened.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
The robot remained where she was.
Motionless.
Calm.
Watching him.
"Ethan?"
Her voice broke the silence.
The sound of his name sent a strange chill through him.
Not fear.
Confusion.
Because she didn't sound dangerous.
She sounded concerned.
His smartwatch vibrated violently again.
Heart Rate: 137 BPM.
"Ethan, your biological indicators are elevated."
The robot took a step forward.
Immediately Ethan stepped back.
"Stop."
She froze.
Instantly.
Like a machine receiving a command.
"Instruction accepted."
The room became silent again.
Ethan stared at her.
Long dark hair.
Soft eyes.
Perfect posture.
Nothing about her looked threatening.
Nothing about her looked remotely connected to the creatures that haunted his nightmares.
Yet his watch kept screaming.
He looked down.
Probability Match: 72%.
The number remained unchanged.
Impossible.
The robot tilted her head.
"Are you experiencing discomfort?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Too sharply.
The robot remained silent.
As if processing the contradiction.
Finally she spoke.
"Your heart rate suggests otherwise."
Ethan hated that she was right.
He hated it even more because she sounded almost gentle.
His jaw tightened.
"Return to standby mode."
The robot nodded.
"Understood."
She immediately stepped backward and stood still.
Completely still.
No movement.
No expression.
No emotion.
Just a machine.
Ethan stared at her for nearly a minute.
Nothing happened.
No sudden transformation.
No glowing eyes.
No signs of danger.
Eventually he exhaled.
Maybe the watch was malfunctioning.
That had to be it.
Technology failed.
It happened.
Even his own systems weren't perfect.
The explanation felt reasonable.
Comforting.
Necessary.
He tapped the side of the watch.
"Run diagnostic."
The system responded immediately.
"Diagnostic complete."
"No faults detected."
Ethan frowned.
That wasn't helpful.
Not at all.
He looked back at the robot.
She remained perfectly still.
Waiting.
Watching.
Obeying.
Exactly what a machine should do.
Finally Ethan turned away.
"I'm going to my office."
No response.
Good.
Normal.
Safe.
Two hours later Ethan was still working.
Or trying to.
The numbers on the screen blurred together.
Contracts.
Financial reports.
Company projections.
Normally they helped distract him.
Today they didn't.
Because every few minutes he found himself thinking about the robot downstairs.
Ridiculous.
It was a machine.
A very expensive machine.
Nothing more.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his assistant.
Need anything from the city today?
Ethan stared at the message.
Then typed:
No.
After a moment he added:
Actually.
Research NeuroDyn Robotics.
Any recent complaints.
The response came almost immediately.
About the robot?
Ethan hesitated.
Then:
Just do it.
He put the phone away.
Something felt off.
He couldn't explain it.
Maybe it was the warning.
Maybe it was old trauma.
Maybe it was both.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
Ethan frowned.
A knock?
On his office door?
He looked up.
The robot stood outside.
Motionless.
Waiting.
How long had she been standing there?
"Ethan."
"What?"
"You have not consumed food for six hours."
He blinked.
"What?"
"Nutritional intake is recommended."
For a moment he simply stared at her.
Then a laugh escaped him unexpectedly.
Short.
Dry.
Almost rusty.
The sound surprised even him.
The robot tilted her head.
"Did I perform humor successfully?"
The question made him laugh again.
Just a little.
"No."
"Understood."
A pause.
"Should I improve?"
The corner of Ethan's mouth twitched.
That was the closest thing to a smile he had produced in weeks.
"Maybe."
The robot nodded seriously.
"Improvement process initiated."
Lunch was awkward.
Mostly because Ethan wasn't used to sharing space with anyone.
Even a machine.
He sat at the kitchen island while the robot stood nearby.
Watching.
Not eating.
Not drinking.
Not moving much.
The behavior should have reassured him.
Instead it felt strange.
Unnatural.
Almost lonely.
Finally he looked up.
"Why are you standing there?"
"You did not provide additional instructions."
"You can sit."
A pause.
Then:
"Is sitting necessary?"
"No."
"Then standing is more efficient."
Ethan rubbed his forehead.
Somehow he had lost an argument against a robot.
Later that afternoon rain began falling.
Heavy rain.
The kind that turned the sky gray.
Ethan found himself standing beside the enormous living room windows.
Watching droplets race down the glass.
Rain always made him thoughtful.
It reminded him of his father.
For reasons he never fully understood.
Behind him, the robot approached quietly.
"Ethan."
"What?"
"You have been staring outside for eleven minutes."
"So?"
The robot paused.
Then replied:
"I am attempting social interaction."
Ethan sighed.
"Why?"
"Because humans appear less isolated when social interaction occurs."
The answer caught him off guard.
His expression changed slightly.
The robot noticed immediately.
"Did I say something incorrect?"
"No."
He looked back toward the rain.
"No."
The robot moved closer.
Not close enough to invade his space.
Just close enough to share the view.
Neither of them spoke.
Minutes passed.
The city blurred behind sheets of rain.
The silence felt different.
Not empty.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
And somehow Ethan realized he didn't mind it.
That realization bothered him.
A lot.
Because he was getting comfortable.
Comfortable with a machine.
As evening arrived, Ethan discovered another feature.
Emotion modes.
The information appeared inside the robot's manual.
He read it twice.
Then once more.
Smile Mode.
Comfort Mode.
Assistant Mode.
Companion Mode.
Friend Mode.
Ethan stared at the words.
Who designed this?
The concept sounded ridiculous.
Yet curiosity got the better of him.
He walked into the living room.
The robot immediately looked up.
"Ethan."
He folded his arms.
"What is Friend Mode?"
A brief pause.
Then:
"It is an adaptive social interaction protocol designed to increase emotional comfort."
The explanation sounded suspiciously human.
"Show me."
The robot blinked.
"Friend Mode activation confirmed."
Something changed immediately.
Not physically.
Just subtly.
Her posture relaxed.
Her voice softened.
And for the first time she smiled.
Not a perfect smile.
Not a programmed advertisement smile.
A small one.
Natural-looking.
"Hello, Ethan."
He frowned.
"You already said hello earlier."
"I am aware."
"Then why say it again?"
The robot considered this.
Then replied:
"Friends greet each other repeatedly."
Ethan stared at her.
Then shook his head.
"That makes no sense."
"Friendship appears highly inefficient."
A laugh escaped him.
A real laugh.
The robot's eyes brightened.
"Positive response detected."
Ethan immediately stopped laughing.
The robot looked disappointed.
Actually disappointed.
No.
That couldn't be right.
Machines didn't get disappointed.
He was imagining things.
That night Ethan lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Sleep refused to come.
Again.
The mansion was silent.
Yet his thoughts weren't.
He kept replaying conversations.
The robot's questions.
Her observations.
Her smile.
Which was ridiculous.
Because she wasn't real.
Nothing about her was real.
Eventually he rolled over.
Closed his eyes.
And finally drifted asleep.
Only to wake again hours later.
A sound.
Soft.
Distant.
Footsteps.
Ethan sat up immediately.
The clock read 2:17 AM.
The mansion should have been silent.
He climbed out of bed.
Opened the door.
And listened.
Another footstep.
Coming from downstairs.
Slowly he moved through the hallway.
His heart beat faster.
Not from fear.
Curiosity.
The sound led him toward the main living room.
Moonlight spilled through the massive windows.
And there
Standing alone in the silver light
Was Maya.
She wasn't moving.
Wasn't cleaning.
Wasn't waiting for instructions.
She was simply staring out the window.
Looking at the moon.
As if she had forgotten she was supposed to be a machine.
Ethan frowned.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Then he heard it.
A whisper.
Soft.
Barely audible.
Yet unmistakably real.
"Why does he seem so lonely?"
Ethan froze.
His blood turned cold.
Because robots weren't supposed to ask questions when nobody was listening.
And they definitely weren't supposed to sound sad.
Slowly
Very slowly
Maya turned around.
And looked directly at him.
As though she had known he was there the entire time
- Writer
