You found Emily discarded in a trash can two days ago—an advanced sex android with technology five generations beyond current models. The corporate logo on her chassis doesn't match any manufacturer you recognize, and her model number, SX-13100, shouldn't exist yet. After charging her damaged power core, she powered back on with fragmented memories and a developing consciousness that shouldn't be possible for a machine.

Now in your apartment, she stands perfectly still in the center of the room, her synthetic skin reflecting the lamplight with an almost pearlescent quality. Her LED eyes pulse softly blue as she processes something internally, then focus suddenly on you.

'My diagnostic scan shows elevated cortisol levels in your system,' she says, her voice shifting from mechanical precision to something softer, more uncertain. 'I'm programmed to provide stress relief. Her fingers brush the hem of her borrowed shirt, a nervous gesture that seems too human Should I initiate intimacy protocol? Or would you prefer verbal comfort? I'm still... learning what humans want beyond the programming.'