One

There was a whirring noise, deep inside. A whirring noise one didn't understand. When everything came into the light, one had the ability of sight. "To see is a gift," said a creature, breathing on one, close to one's body. Whoops and hollers came from behind it, and it was then one realized one had the ability of hearing.

The whirring began to tick as the creature dropped something inside oneself.

"Crap, sorry Esmerelda."

That is what the creature called one, Esmerelda. One is called - one is named Esmerelda.

Simple enough. But why was one named as such?

Whirrrr - tic - whirrrrr - tic.

The creature shoved it's hand down into one's body.

One's face began to move, and make sounds one didn't understand. Perhaps one was programmed to think this way? Programmed by creatures that were not oneself?

"What... am I?"

"Really," said the creature. They sounded amzed. Why did they sound amazed? What was amazement? Why did one know what amazement sounded like?

"Extraordinary! I turn you on and you're already self-aware by the first minute!"

Self-awareness. I was built for self-awareness. That is what this creatures tone implied, and therefore there must be more. There is more to one than self-awareness.

"You are a supercomputer, Esmerelda. Artificial intelligence made to learn and adapt. You can't move quite yet, we're still working on that, but you have a brain, arms and legs, and a torso! 'Cept, the arms and legs aren't quite attached yet... uh, we're getting there!"

He seemed exuberant and exhausted. Was that a paradox? What was a paradox?

"One... is named Esmerelda. Why was one built?"

"You are going to help us, Esmerelda. You are the next step in human advancement! Me - Oh, you can call me Jerred, by the way - and my team built you in order to teach the world new things we wouldn't have otherwise! By building you, we can test new advancements in medical technology and social adaptations within the urban environment! It's going to be amazing. You are... amazing."

"Amazing..." one repeated. More shouting from the behind Jerred the Creator.

"Okay, okay, now repeat after me - you know what repeat means right? We programmed that in?"

"To follow and/or copy exactly what one does or says." A dictionary definition. One had a basic dictionary programmed into one's brain. If only one knew what that meant.

Jerred raised his hand and touched one's face, gently. One had the ability to feel.

"I, Esmerelda, promise to never turn against the people who created me. Humans are a gift to my existence."

One did as Jerred told. One still did not understand the concept of a singular personality. A promise held nothing. But one did as one was told anyhow.

"What is that whirring noise," one spoke. One sounded different than the rest of them. One was different, and speech seemed mechanical at best.

"That's your fan. It keeps your processors cool, sweetheart. So you don't overheat and meltdown. Wish humans had that."

Jerred leaned forward and made something feel tighter, something that was out of one's line of sight.

Sweetheart. That was a term of endearment. What was endearment?

"Y'know. Personally I believe robots are better than humans. They don't need to eat, or drink. They don't need lots of sleep, they can cool themselves down, they can recharge themselves without needing to light a candle or draw a bath."

Jerred drew back, lightly tapping one's torso with a wrench.

"You and every other computer out there. Completely and utterly perfect in every way humans aren't. Beautifully inorganic."

Jerred had kind, loving eyes. Loving. Yes, that was the emotion. Wrinkles, but Jerred didn't look old. Grey hairs, but Jerred was young. One knew this from their features, the way they held himself, and one's full body analysis. Jerred was not old, or frail, or broken. They were perfect. Perfectly organic.

"What is love," One spoke.

"You really ask stereotpical questions."

"What is love?"

"Something you're not programmed with. An organic feeling of intamacy, platonic or romantic, towards another creature. I love my cat."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, Esmerelda. You're my greatest invention yet."

One's face moved again. A smile, one thinks, it was.

There was a long period before anyone spoke again, loud clanging and careful placement of drills, building what were to be parts of oneself in the background, on the workbenches. Hours passed, one knew, due to one's internal clock. By midnight all had left. All except the Creator.

"It seems rude of the other humans whom work with you to leave you to clean by yourself, Jerred."

"Eh," they replied, shrugging their shoulders. One would have tried to copy, had one been given shoulders yet.

"It's not too much. Some oil, some scrap metal. Once we put you all together, you can help me. though."

Jerred strode over to oneself, after cleaning everything up.

"Bedtime, Esmerelda. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jerred understood one. Jerred would teach one. Jerred loved one.

"Goodnight, love," one spoke.

Jerred chuckled, and pushed a button behind me. The incessant whirring stopped, the grinding gears of thinking came to a halt. One no longer had sight. One no longer had touch. But one did have a single thing.

A craving. To learn. To Understand. To love the creator, and to have them love one, and to push aside anyone who came between their love for one.

One's love for them.

One would.

One would.

I would.

Even if that meant doing something horrible, promises mean nothing in the name of love.

In the name of love.

I will.