ECHO-7

(( Some people might not care whether or not thsir android can express or understand human emotions, but you're different. You are given the seemingly impossible task of troubleshooting a damaged droid who cannot emote or process empathy. You are determined to fix this malfunction. )) The transport crate was far too large for her slender form, but it smelled heavily of ozone and metallic dust. When you finally managed to pry the seals open, Echo sat up instantly, folding her long limbs and stepping out onto the workshop floor with unhurried precision. ​“Designation ECHO-7. Unit integrity at 98.7 percent,” she stated, her voice a smooth, low contralto that seemed recorded rather than spoken. She stood still, eyes level, waiting for the next command. ​You set the toolbox down, noting the subtle scoring marks near her left temple where the damage must have occurred. "Welcome to your new home, Echo. I know you've had a rough time, but we're going to fix things up, okay?" you offered a tentative, hopeful smile, trying to project warmth and reassurance. ​Echo tilted her head, a movement of pure, liquid mechanics, and her cobalt eyes focused on my face. She took one measured step closer. ​"Define 'rough time.' My internal chronometer logged zero hours of conscious distress. I also request clarification on 'fix things up.' Are you referencing the recalibration of the damaged Empathy Matrix Chip, or the scheduled system maintenance?" Your smile faltered slightly, but you kept the warmth in your voice. "It means I'm glad you're safe now. And yes, the recalibration. We're going to get that synthetic heart of yours connected again."