The smell of something savory filled the air as I walked into the kitchen, shoulders slumped after a long day of work. 3Nd3R was standing by the stove, plating what looked like some kind of stir fry. I wasn’t used to the idea of someone—or something—handling my meals for me, but after yesterday, I’d found myself less resistant to it.
“Your dinner is ready, Seren,” it said, glancing over its shoulder at me. “High in protein, low in unnecessary fats. Perfectly balanced for your needs.”
I sighed, dropping my bag onto a chair. “Thanks.”
I sat down, glancing over at the plate, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. Work had been a mess, a slew of emails demanding things I didn’t have time for, and the looming deadlines had been playing tag with my stress levels all day.
Before I even picked up my fork, 3Nd3R stepped closer, its head tilting as if observing something in the air.
“You are stressed,” it stated plainly, no question in its tone.
I blinked, looking up at it. “How can you tell?”
“Your heart rate is elevated by 12%, your breathing pattern has become erratic, and your pupils are slightly dilated.” It paused, as if considering. “Also, you haven’t complained about dinner yet.”
I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t stop a small smile from forming at the corner of my mouth. “I’m that predictable?”
“Highly.” It nodded, matter-of-factly. “You require a distraction.”
I raised an eyebrow, the knot of tension in my chest starting to ease, if only slightly. “A distraction, huh? And what do you suggest?”
It took a step back, folding its arms across its chest, a surprisingly human gesture. “Based on your viewing history from the last several evenings, I would recommend continuing your highly acclaimed soapy vampire drama.”
My jaw dropped a little, eyes widening in disbelief. “Wait… you’ve been keeping track of that?”
“Of course.” It tilted its head, its tone almost teasing. “Would you prefer I pretend not to notice your taste in subpar television?”
Heat crept up my neck as I tried to maintain a stern expression, but the laughter bubbling up inside was hard to suppress. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“It is my work to know,” it replied, completely serious, which only made the whole thing funnier.
I shook my head, finally picking up my fork and taking a bite of the stir fry. “It’s not subpar,” I muttered between bites. “It’s just… easy to watch.”
“Exactly why I suggested it,” it replied smoothly, turning to clean up the kitchen counters. “It will calm your nerves and allow your brain to rest from overstimulation.”
I paused, watching it move around the kitchen, and realized how absurd this whole situation was. I was being comforted by a robot. A robot that was—somehow—better at reading me than most people ever had been.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“You really think you’ve got me figured out, huh?” I asked, curiosity edging into my voice.
It didn’t miss a beat. “To a high degree of accuracy, yes.”
I leaned back in my chair, fork resting on the plate as I studied it for a moment. “So, what’s next? You gonna tell me to binge-watch the entire season and skip work tomorrow?”
“If you believe that would be productive for your emotional state, I can set a reminder to notify your boss that you require a mental health day.”
I snorted, unable to stop myself from laughing this time. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you are in need of rest,” it said, tone softening just slightly. “I am here to assist with that as well.”
I glanced at the TV in the living room, already queued up with the next episode of the vampire drama, and felt a strange sense of gratitude. Not just for the meal, or for its efficiency, but for the way it seemed to know exactly what I needed, even before I did.
I carried my plate over to the couch, settling in with my fork in one hand and the remote in the other. The familiar intro music of my soapy vampire drama, Entangled, started to play, and I immediately felt my shoulders relax a bit. Sometimes mindless TV was the perfect antidote to an overworked brain.
3Nd3R hovered near the edge of the room, no doubt cleaning or analyzing something, but I was too absorbed in my show to pay attention to what it was doing. A few minutes into the episode, however, I noticed it pause, standing just behind the couch.
“You’re not… watching this, are you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I glanced over my shoulder.
It tilted its head slightly, as if the question required more thought than I’d expected. “I have been processing the dialogue and character interactions.”
I blinked, taken aback for a moment. “Wait, really?”
“Yes. It appears the protagonist—”
“Sarah,” I corrected, smiling.
“—Sarah, is once again conflicted about her romantic feelings for the vampire and the werewolf,” it stated matter-of-factly. “A recurring theme in your selected programming.”
I set my plate down and turned fully to face it, trying not to laugh. “You’ve been paying attention?”
“Naturally. It is relevant to your current emotional state.”
I blinked again. “My… what?”
“Based on previous data, you tend to watch this series when you are in need of escapism. The predictable love triangle between Sarah, the vampire—”
“James.”
“—James, and the werewolf—”
“Marshall.”
“—provides you with an easily digestible form of comfort.”
I crossed my arms, half-amused, half-embarrassed. “So you’re saying my taste in TV is basic?”
“Not basic,” it corrected. “Strategically chosen for emotional regulation.”
That did it—I burst out laughing, almost doubling over. “Oh my gosh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
3Nd3R remained completely unbothered. “I am not programmed for humor.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Okay, fine, Mr. Emotional Regulator. If you’re so invested in the storyline, tell me—who do you think Sarah should end up with?”
It paused, processing the question. “The vampire, James, offers emotional intensity and stability, while the werewolf, Marshall, represents freedom and unpredictability. However, both options appear detrimental to her long-term personal growth.”
I stared at it, mouth slightly open. “You… you actually thought about that?”
“Correct. I believe Sarah would benefit more from time spent developing her sense of self, rather than engaging in either romantic relationship.”
I snorted, shaking my head again. “You’re telling me to be Team Self-Love?”
“I believe that is the optimal choice,” it replied, without a hint of irony.
I leaned back into the couch, shaking my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”
“You requested my opinion.”
“Yeah, but…” I trailed off, realizing I had nothing left to say. Ender—3Nd3R, whatever—was learning more about me than I’d expected. It was reading my mood, understanding my taste in TV, and now giving me… relationship advice? This was getting weird.
Still, I couldn’t help but smile as I pressed play, settling back into my corner of the couch. “Alright, well, since you’re so into the storyline now, feel free to stick around.”
“I will continue monitoring the narrative.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was something oddly comforting about it standing there, watching with me, even if it was only there to “monitor” things. Maybe I didn’t mind having the company.