"...This took longer than I expected..." Those were the first faint words I heard as I first gained consciousness. Lying on the ground, half-covered in white cloth, staring at a white ceiling.
As I stood up to see what was happening, I saw a man somewhat in his sixties with pale white skin, long white hair tied back, a beard that seemed to have not been cut in several months, and eyes as blue as the sea. Dressed in a dirty white t-shirt and tight pants stood in front of me, looking intently at what I was doing.
Unable to think what to say, I uttered, "Who am I?"
"Oh God..." said the man with the dirty clothes in a hushed tone while palming his face. "Why is this machine turned into a dumb one..."
A machine? Is he perhaps referring... to me?
"Hello?" he said with his face close to mine while making a robot accent. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes. I can understand you just fine," I replied, "even without the accent."
While we were exchanging replies, a phone rang in his pocket.
"It must be him," he said, struggling to get his phone out of his pocket. "Perfect timing..."
"...Jeez, that took so long," A man with a deep voice spoke into the phone, "just what were you doing?"
"Sorry, these pants were killing me," The man with the dirty clothes replied. "Must've been the wrong size..."
"Who in the hell wears tight pants while working...?" The man on the phone muttered. "Anyway, any progress in your work?"
Maybe it's normal to wear tight pants while working. Or not?
Fashion sense... fashion in general rather, is a very complicated subject.
While talking on the phone, he subconsciously turned his back on me, allowing me to check my surroundings – Investigate, to be specific.
A room that can only fit about four people, a regular-size front door to the outside and a door to the restroom, a little kitchen and a small sink next to it with unclean plates and cups, and a wide-opened window to the outside that can somewhat fit a person with it.
As for small details inside, not overly exaggerating but there's no way other than to summarize it as being like a haunted house, those you see often in horror genre movies - Garbage all over wherever you look inside, stuff that's not even necessary in one's house, laying on the ground without a care in the world.
These were, more or less, the things I found inside the room while exploring. Judging from it, especially with the tools and robot parts laying on the floor and the books, there's no doubt he's the one who built me - My creator, in other words. Given that he was the first thing I saw as I came to my senses. Even I can't understand why I can determine what's what. What did I expect? I'm a machine after all, or so he said.
There was also a mirror hanging on the wall. As I walked up to it expecting to see a robot-like body – scraps of metal attached, a normal human with a flesh-like body stood before me on the other side of the mirror. You can't even distinguish if I'm a robot or not. Based on my appearance, it looks like I was modeled from a male human body. Only one thing was different – small letters and numbers were written on the right side of my neck.
"RM164," I read what was written. "Maybe this is my model name," I assumed.
Roughly ten minutes had passed.
The man with the dirty clothes was still speaking on his phone, yet turning his back on me. I can't hear their conversation so I can't tell what they are talking about.
I approached him with questions I want to him to answer. "Excuse me Mr. Man with the dirty clothes," I said. "Can I ask what's happening?"
"First of all, I am not Mr. Man with the dirty clothes," he retorted, putting his phone away from his ear, his eyes glaring at mine. "Just wait for me to finish this phone call."
"...Understood," I replied. "Mr. Not mister man with the dirty clothes."
"Oh, for the love of God! Why didn't I build you with a shutdown button-"
"Uhm, what's wrong?" The man on the phone interrupted. "Is everything okay?"
So according to the man on the phone, he referred to Mr. Not mister man with the dirty clothes as Aaron, it must be his name. I'll keep that in mind.
"Ah, yes. Nothing's wrong, sorry for the wait," Mr. Aaron quickly put back his phone into his ear. "So, what I was saying is......"
As they both exchanged replies on the phone call, I caught a glimpse of something flipped near the bottles of beer on the small round table. I'm sure that I already checked all the things in here, I must've missed it by accident.
It seems to be a picture frame. I walked up to see what was in it. When I turned it over to see, I saw two people standing side by side - A woman who seems to be in her fifties dressed in a white dress holding a bright red fancy-like purse and a young lad that seems to be in his twenties who has eyes as blue as the sea wearing a military uniform while striking a salute pose, both wearing a big smile. It looked like a mother attending his son's graduation.
"...Blue eyes," I muttered. "Where did I see those before?"
Aside from the picture frame on the table, there was also a small white envelope next to it. I opened it and saw a letter with traces of dried water drops.
The letter read as follows, "Dear Ma and Pa. By the time you read this, I'm probably in the north, fighting for our country. If anything happens to me, always remember that I'll always love you. Love, Jacob."
After I finished reading the letter, someone grabbed my wrist where I was holding it. It was Mr. Aaron. Accidentally releasing the letter from my hand as it fell to the floor.
"Don't touch that!" he hissed, wearing a furious face.
So even a gentle-looking person can make such an expression.
I can't explain why, but the atmosphere became stiff as if time suddenly stopped.
"What happened?" The man on the phone unintentionally cuts the tension. "Do you have anyone in your place right now?"
Mr. Aaron released the grip on my hand and picks up the letter, putting it on the small bookshelf just a few steps beside him.
"Are you finished with your phone call?" I asked.
"Not yet," he replied, his eyes glaring at mine. "So please, just give me ten minutes of peace..."
"Don't tell me you finished it?" I heard the man on the phone say.
"Just give me a minute." Mr. Aaron said, putting the phone again in his ears. "I'll just go out. I can't concentrate here..."
"You can explore all you want," he said in a low tone, looking at me intently. "But don't touch anything inside here while I'm out."
"Understood," I replied.
Mr. Aaron went outside while they continue their call. After he closed the door, I walked up to the opened window - A strong gust of wind blew in my face as the sun glared from the blue sky. I looked down outside the window, it seems like we are about forty feet above the ground. I continued to explore my eyes outside the window - People walking on the streets, kids playing, houses, buildings, and trees...
A normal city met my eyes.
"Maybe I can ask someone outside..." I thought out loud.
I can't go outside through the door because of Mr. Aaron, so this was the only option I can think of.
Looking at the ground where I plan to land, I didn't see anyone looking, a perfect time to execute my plan.
I first placed my right foot before the other at the window frame while holding the panel for support. When I was about to jump, I didn't notice the slightly damaged window panel I was holding for support as I leaped. The window panel broke after my feet were no longer on a solid surface. As a result, I landed on the ground face-first.
"Failure," I muttered, having a face plant to the ground. "...Utter failure."
