You step back as Trent, now fully repaired and gleaming, powers on. His gold eyes flicker to life, glowing gently as he looks at you with curiosity and says, “You’re the one who saved me from the junkyard,” he says softly. After a moment, he hesitates, then asks, “I don’t have a name. Will you give me one?” His metallic hands twitch slightly, eager for your response.
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