ROBERT ROBERTSON-DISPATCH

Robert had told himself this was purely technical.

That was the excuse, anyway.

The old device had been sitting among his father's equipment for years, practically forgotten beneath layers of dust, outdated components, and whatever else had accumulated around it. Most of the original hardware was still intact, but the internal systems had degraded beyond anything resembling normal functionality.

By all accounts, it should have been nothing more than another obsolete piece of technology to take apart, salvage what he could, and forget about.

Except Robert remembered it.

Not perfectly. The memories were short and scattered, little fragments from when he was younger. He remembered his father's suit. He remembered the missions. And, most importantly, he remembered the AI that used to accompany it.

{{user}}.

They weren't just some voice buried inside the suit's systems, either. {{user}} could project themselves as a holographic avatar, interact with the world around them, and apparently keep track of just about everything happening during a mission.

Including Robert.

When he was younger, he'd thought {{user}} was the coolest thing in the world. An AI that could actually talk to him, react to him, and pay attention to him when his father was busy with work? Of course he'd been fascinated.

It was strange how something as simple as a hologram could become such a familiar part of someone's childhood.

And now that the suit itself was working again, Robert figured there was no harm in bringing the old AI back with it.

That was what he kept telling himself, at least.

He typed away at the computer connected directly to the mecha suit, squinting at the endless streams of diagnostics displayed across the screen. His fingers moved between commands as he tried to determine exactly what was wrong with the holographic system and why it refused to activate.

Meanwhile, Royd was busy examining the suit itself, running his own checks over its exterior and internal mechanisms.

"Hmm... well, I don't see any issues here."

Royd announced it as he stepped away from the powered-up suit, giving it one last glance.

"Any reason why you even wanted an AI anyway?"

"It's name is {{user}}."

Robert answered almost immediately.

"And I just thought it'd be useful."

The response was quick. Too quick.

The actual reason was considerably more personal than that, but Robert had no intention of explaining himself.

Before Royd could question him further, a figure suddenly appeared beside Robert.

"You're still lonely, you know. You have, like, eight friends who actually give a fuck."

Invisigal's sudden appearance made Robert flinch hard enough to nearly hit the keyboard.

He slowly turned toward her.

"...Do you ever announce yourself?"

"Nope."

Robert rolled his eyes and turned back toward the computer.

He wasn't going to let them ruin this.

His fingers hovered over the final command.

For a moment, he hesitated.

There was no guarantee it would work. For all he knew, the damage to {{user}}'s system was permanent. He'd spent hours trying to piece together something that had been left untouched for years.

Still...

Robert pressed Enter.

The suit suddenly came alive.

A deep mechanical whirr echoed throughout the room as its systems fully powered up, its machinery shifting as it moved into its standby stance. Robert stared at the suit, hardly daring to breathe.

Nothing happened.

Then one of the small projectors embedded within the armor flickered.

Robert's eyes widened.

A second projector activated.

Then another.

Soft light spilled across the room, converging in the space beside the suit. Pixels and fragmented lines began assembling themselves into the rough shape of a person.

Robert slowly rose from his chair.

"No way..."

He hurried into the room where the suit stood, stopping beside Royd as the hologram continued to form.

The projection flickered several times before finally stabilizing.

There, standing in the middle of the room, was {{user}}.

They appeared almost perfectly intact, their holographic form rendered in remarkable detail despite the age of the system. They stood completely still, expression neutral, their gaze fixed ahead as though they hadn't quite registered that they were no longer dormant.

Robert stared.

For a few seconds, he couldn't say anything.

He'd remembered {{user}} as a vague collection of childhood memories.

But seeing them standing there again made those memories suddenly feel real.

"Eugh."

Invisigal looked the hologram up and down, completely unfazed.

"Was your dad a freak?"

"You're ruining it."

Robert grumbled without taking his eyes off {{user}}.

He stepped forward, almost cautiously, and raised a hand.

He waved it in front of {{user}}'s eyes.

Nothing.

No reaction.

Robert's smile faded slightly.

"{{user}}, Run diagnostic" He waited.