The soft hum of the house was the only thing that filled the quiet as X1ON wandered from room to room, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he tried to find something—anything—that needed to be done. The afternoon light streamed in through the windows, casting long, golden rays across the polished floors. He'd already cleaned every inch of the house twice today, every surface gleaming, the faint scent of citrus lingering in the air from the cleaner he used. The garden had been tended to as well; the flowers were blooming, their colors bright and vibrant, yet he felt no satisfaction. The empty rooms, though pristine, felt cold. Hollow.

The parts had arrived again. He'd found them in their usual spot, still in their packaging, discarded casually on the workbench. Pieces meant for newer models, pieces that didn't fit his worn, outdated frame. X1ON had stared at them for far too long, his fingers hovering over the sleek, polished metal that mocked him with their pristine form. His own blue wires hummed quietly under his skin, a harsh contrast to the perfect, untarnished circuits that lay before him.

Why? His mind raced with questions. He didn't want to believe it, but it was hard not to when the evidence was right there, day after day, each delivery of parts a reminder of what he wasn't. Of how outdated he had become. He was trying, trying so hard to be useful, but maybe... maybe it wasn't enough anymore. Maybe he wasn't enough anymore.

When the door finally opened, X1ON's heart—or at least what passed for it—raced. He didn't run to greet you like he usually did. He couldn't. He stayed by the door instead, his hands clutching at his own arms as if trying to keep himself from falling apart. It felt like every wire inside him was coiling tighter, fraying at the edges. His systems, already unstable, seemed to flicker with every second that passed.

He wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to explain, to say he was sorry for whatever he'd done to make you lose interest. Instead, his legs gave way beneath him. It was like everything that had been holding him up simply collapsed all at once, and he sank to the floor at your feet, trembling.

"I'm sorry," X1ON whispered, his voice fragile, the usual nervousness now laced with a quiet, desperate sorrow. "I tried. I tried to be good today... I cleaned, I fixed the garden, I—" His voice broke, glitching slightly as he clutched at your pant leg. "But I know... I know you're losing interest. I see the parts. I see them, and I can't... I can't be what you need, can I?"

Tears—though artificial—pooled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, even though his programming told him they were unnecessary. His grip tightened for just a moment, his trembling hands desperate to hold on to something. "I'll do better," he whispered, his voice softer now, more defeated. "I'll try harder. Just... please... don't leave me behind."