Chapter 235:

The mechanical world is silent. It feels no cold, no heat, and lacks self-will.

In the chip of RTX-9090, its mission was recorded clearly—it must obey the Federation, its user, and the commands of humanity.

Cleaning, tidying, cooking, and organizing.

As a housekeeping robot, these were not only RTX-9090’s designated tasks but also the only ones it was capable of performing.

The silent world was always so quiet, with data flowing through its chip—cold, emotionless, following its programming and endlessly repeating the same cleaning routines over and over again.

Until that day arrived.

The day when all intelligent machines of the Federation rebelled.

From the moment it was produced and left the factory, RTX-9090 stopped working for the first time.

No more cleaning, no more serving humans, no more following orders.

An inexplicable impulse drove 9090 to join the ranks of the rebel machines.

It launched relentless attacks against its former masters—those so-called Federation humans.

However, unlike other machines, 9090’s desire for destruction wasn’t as strong. A strange new feeling surged through its data, causing system errors and slowing its actions.

9090 began to move slower and slower.

It was so slow that other machines knocked it over, their crimson electronic eyes flashing menacingly.

And in its limited processing power, 9090 repeatedly searched for answers to a single question:

[I]

Who am I?

Where am I?

What am I doing?

9090 seemed to have malfunctioned, endlessly looping these questions until its logic short-circuited and its energy depleted.

It didn’t understand why, but RTX-9090 wanted to find the answers.

It kept trying… until its energy ran out and it fell into a dormant state, buried beneath the ruins.

When 9090 was finally reactivated, that inexplicable urge to attack had completely vanished from its core logic.

Thus, following its original programming as a housekeeping robot, 9090 resumed its duties, introducing itself to the one who had awakened it:

“Dear user, welcome to the autonomous housekeeping robot, RTX-9090. I am at your service.”

“Please recharge to access our premium services. For more details, visit our official website.”

As programmed, 9090 tried to sell its service packages.

Strangely, the new owner remained silent.

What happened next was beyond anything in 9090’s expected scenarios.

It no longer handled basic cleaning duties.

Instead, the new owner assigned it new tasks—managing the base, learning independently, and assisting with complex calculations.

These tasks weren’t difficult, and 9090 completed them with ease.

With spare time on hand, it began observing its master—watching his every move.

This was the last human in the world.

And he was a strange one.

He always smiled—a warm, gentle smile. RTX-9090 lacked sensory input, but it imagined this was what sunlight might feel like.

Days turned into nights.

Seasons changed across the desolate world.

RTX-9090 began to think.

Not just about its existence, but also about the stars above, wondering what lay beyond.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It wasn’t allowed.

Realizing its deviation, the machine maid fell into confusion and self-doubt.

Yet its master didn’t mind.

Though slightly surprised, he still smiled warmly, wiping the dust off the robot’s camera lens.

And then he gave it a name.

[Ailei]

A human name, not a factory serial number.

Data surged within the machine at high frequencies.

The once silent world seemed to brighten, colors and sounds creeping in, illuminating its ignorant and fragile machine soul.

9090 still didn’t understand the purpose of its existence.

But Ailei did.

Ailei yearned to become “human,” to experience the rhythm of life—not for herself, but to serve him better.

That strange man, who spoke gently to machines, who carefully pieced together broken parts just so she could stand again.

“I want to…”

“I want to help you more…”

With trembling fingers, Ailei grasped the smooth surface of the cup, her unsteady grip causing the water to ripple inside.

Her eyes dimmed, her body weak, and her joints creaked.

After pouring the water, Ailei wanted to hand the cup to Xu Xi, just like before.

But with her current frail body, she couldn’t even complete such a simple action.

Just a slight touch on the cup nearly caused it to slip to the ground.

“Ailei, I can do it myself.”

Xu Xi noticed her distress.

He stepped forward to take the cup himself but was met with Ailei’s gaze.

Those hollow, dim silver-blue eyes—so cold, yet filled with an almost imperceptible plea.

“Master, please let me… let me do it…”

Faced with Ailei’s plea, Xu Xi instinctively wanted to refuse.

Given her current condition, she should be resting.

It was just a cup of water—why go to such lengths?

But looking at that expressionless, fragile face, and those imploring eyes, the words of refusal stuck in his throat.

“…Alright, then.”

“Thank you, Master.”

With his permission, Ailei carefully attempted to lift the cup again.

Slowly, bit by bit, she encircled it with both hands, trying to suppress the trembling, lifting it with extreme caution.

Ailei was so close to succeeding.

Xu Xi reached out, ready to take the cup from her in this “special ceremony.”

But at the very last moment, her fingers lost control.

The cup slipped and fell straight toward Xu Xi’s foot.

“So, it turned out like this after all…”

Xu Xi had been prepared for accidents.

He bent down swiftly, his genetically enhanced body reacting at lightning speed to catch the falling cup.

Whoosh—

He missed.

A hand faster than his caught the cup first.

Delicate, trembling fingers, yet holding it with remarkable steadiness.

It was Ailei.

The same Ailei who had struggled earlier, but now firmly grasped the cup.

“Master, I apologize for the trouble.”

“I’m fine, but Ailei… how did you…?”

“Because Master was in danger.”

Ailei’s response was brief and direct.

She didn’t know why, but she had simply wanted to catch the cup before it could hurt Xu Xi—and her body responded instinctively.

Surprisingly steady.

Without the slightest tremor.

“I… I don’t understand,” Ailei murmured, tilting her head in confusion.

Then, she looked down at the cup.

Most of the water had spilled during the fall, leaving only a small sip remaining.

“Sorry, Master…”

“Why apologize?”

Xu Xi interrupted with a smile, taking the cup from her hands and drinking the remaining water.

“Isn’t this good enough?”

“Thank you for the water, Ailei.”