Virtual Rebirth

He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his body, sculpted through countless workouts. The muscle lines were as clear as carvings, with every muscle fiber rippling across his frame, exuding strength and vitality. His shoulders were broad, his chest prominent, and his hips and thighs radiated power.

 

Axel ft. Edgar Vincit

His hair was neatly combed, the brown strands damp with sweat, glistening under the lights. A determined expression appeared on his face, his features sharp, with chiseled lines. In his green eyes, there was a hunger for challenge and a pursuit of victory.

 

His overall appearance was the embodiment of a bodybuilder, a symbol of relentless dedication. Every day, he pushed himself, striving for the peak of physical perfection. Day by day, he watched himself in the mirror, admiring the results of his hard work.

 

“Aha! Feels like I’ve grown again today,” he said to the mirror, his voice filled with pride at his achievements.

 

***

 

I sit in my apartment in Nuiteria, high up in a skyscraper, with the dazzling city lights of the night outside the window. I had just finished editing my next video to upload, casually browsing the web. As a 6’3” natural bodybuilder, gaining muscle tends to be slower compared to others, but being one of the tallest people in the gym is definitely a perk. The taller you are, the higher the ceiling. My thoughts wandered aimlessly. Time slipped away in the endless whirlpool of internet surfing, and soon it was time for today’s workout. Shutting down my computer, I prepared a protein shake and got ready to head downstairs.

 

I walked toward the gym, the bustling streets as lively as ever. Dusk had just passed, and the blue hour made the neon lights of the commercial district glow more intensely. Suddenly, a striking advertisement caught my attention. Beneath Nuiteria’s vibrant lights, a screen displayed a futuristic-looking humanoid robot, called the ServantBot. The sleek, cutting-edge design of the ServantBot immediately stood out. Gradually, the text emerged: “ServantBot, your personalized companion, offering you unique services.”

 

I stopped in my tracks, looking up at the screen. The lights reflected on my face, as well as on the busy crowds rushing by. The vivid display kept changing, giving me a glimpse of this new company's product. I felt as though I stood on the edge of a technological singularity, my curiosity about this robotic creation rapidly growing.

 

The street was packed, but only a few people stopped to really watch the advertisement. “Looks pretty cool,” I muttered to myself, my gaze fixed on the screen. I quickened my pace toward the gym, ready to start my day’s workout. Today was chest day.

 

“Hey, Axel! You hitting chest today too?” A voice came from my right as I set down the dumbbells and turned to look.

 

Gabriel ft. Kyle Kuznik

“Yo! Your last video was solid—10k views!” It was my gym buddy Gabriel. He’s 5’10”, 20 years old, with short black-brown hair. I often admired his perfectly symmetrical abs, always sharp and shredded.

 

“Man, people online aren’t even watching the stuff we shoot in the gym anymore. Some dude with a mask just flexes and pulls 200k views! His physique isn’t even as good as mine! I’ m thinking maybe I should switch it up, do that kind of content,” he said, pointing to his phone before flexing his biceps.

 

“Stick with it, man. You know as well as anyone, consistency is the key. Fitness has already taught you that—I don’t need to remind you,” I said.

 

“But if you're going down the wrong path, it won’t matter how consistent you are,” he countered.

I chuckled, playfully tapping my fists against his chest, feeling his pecs tighten beneath my knuckles. “Enough talking. How’s your chest workout going today? Can you bench 500 lbs yet?” I led him over to the bench press station. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

A day at the gym was the same as always—monotonous, repetitive, filled with sweat, pushing and pulling. Amidst the soreness, my mind sometimes wandered far. I thought back to the ad I had seen earlier. I could already imagine how that robot might change my life, handling all the little tasks and making my life as a bodybuilder smoother and more efficient.

 

On my way home, the image of that screen ad lingered in my mind, growing stronger instead of fading. Once I got back, I started searching for more information, and sure enough, I found their official website. The ad continued to reel me in, showing off ServantBot’s various features, from smart fitness assistance to personalized services, making it hard to resist. As the ad concluded, I muttered to myself, “Maybe this is exactly what I need to help me handle all the little things.”

 

I opened the product menu and started browsing through the different models. Each one had unique functionalities and appearances, all equipped with cutting-edge technology. It felt like the stuff of science fiction novels had finally become reality, and some of these designs were even bolder than anything I’d imagined in those books.

 

As I browsed, I noticed the different price tags. The most advanced models, with human-like intelligence and emotions, were outrageously expensive. “Wow, that’s steep,” I murmured under my breath.

 

Just as I was about to close my laptop, a pop-up window appeared on the screen, announcing: “Limited-time offer: Free Trial.” Curious, I clicked on it. To my surprise, they were seeking volunteers to test the robots for free, with the condition of filling out regular surveys to help improve the customer experience. It seemed like a great opportunity. I could even contribute my fitness expertise to them. Plus, given how expensive these robots were, this volunteer plan was my only realistic option.

 

On my screen, various ServantBot models were displayed one after the other. Since it was a trial program, there were several beta versions available. Some robots were specialized in fitness assistance, while others offered more advanced personalized services. Each bionic robot had a distinctive design, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Some models were tall and muscular, exuding a powerful bodybuilding aesthetic. Their simulated muscles were meticulously detailed in the ads, resembling the physique of a perfectly sculpted athlete. I couldn’t help but think, “If only I were that big!” Other models had slimmer, more graceful forms, like living works of art. Their elegant curves and movements carried a mesmerizing grace. I muttered to myself, “Female robots aren’t bad either.”

 

I began comparing the different models, weighing their strengths and weaknesses. I hadn’t expected their products to be this advanced. The level of technology in these bionic robots left me stunned, and I found myself drawn deeper into the unknown world of exploration.

 

As I made my choice, I was torn between the male and female designs. The male models exuded masculine strength, while the female models had a graceful elegance. I wanted a robot that was physically strong and well-built, someone who could offer professional help with bodybuilding. I wasn’t looking for companionship in a romantic sense but more of a partner to push me, challenge me, and strive for self-improvement together. I also feared getting too attached, crossing into the dangerous territory of human-robot relationships, which made me think a strong and resilient male figure would be more appropriate as a friend.

 

In the end, I landed on a male ServantBot model. His physique was solid and muscular, with defined facial features. When I clicked into the details, I realized that not only did the robots come with default appearance options, but they could also be customized based on the owner’s personality and preferences—for an added cost, of course. This feature sparked a deep reflection within me.

 

I studied the default appearance of the ServantBot as if I were evaluating a new competitor in a bodybuilding contest. The original look conveyed elegance and dignity, with design elements reminiscent of futuristic craftsmanship. Yet, the default face seemed too average, like many faces merged into one, losing distinctiveness. I decided to design a unique look.

 

The robot’s body was naturally sleek, with fluid lines, showcasing a certain aesthetic beauty. But for me, I longed for a more robust and powerful appearance, like a fellow bodybuilder. I clicked on the customization options and began altering the robot’s physique. I enhanced the muscle definition, making the body bulkier and more aligned with my ideals of strength and fitness.

 

As I meticulously adjusted the robot’s appearance, I focused on every change. The shoulders grew broader, the chest and thighs gained more pronounced muscle lines. I wanted a companion not only technically proficient but someone who could share in my pursuit of peak physical condition.

 

When I finally finished the adjustments, nearly four hours had passed. The ServantBot now reflected my ideal physique—strong, powerful, yet aesthetically pleasing. The muscular contours were exactly as I envisioned, like the perfect version of my own body. He had striking ocean-blue eyes and neatly groomed, wavy golden hair that gave him a youthful, energetic look, suggesting he was barely in his twenties. A finely trimmed, light beard graced the edges of his mouth. His golden chest hair was soft and radiant, adding a subtle glow to his upper body. A faint trail of abdominal hair extended downward, blending into thicker pubic hair. Light body hair adorned his limbs, enhancing his natural appearance. I specifically set his height to 5’11.9”, just under six feet.

 

ServantBot ft. Lukas Ridgeston

As for the lower-body settings, I was surprised at first to find that the penis parameters were customizable. I wasn’t sure why they’d offer such detail—perhaps in an effort to mimic the human form as closely as possible? Either way, I went along with it, selecting a template and adjusting the specifics. I chose a flaccid length of 7 inches and an erect length of 12 inches, with a 2.5-inch flaccid diameter and a 3-inch erect diameter, making it larger than mine to compensate for his shorter height. I chuckled to myself, wondering if he’d ever complain about his height. Smiling at the screen, I said softly, “Perfect.”

 

I was confident this robot would be the perfect fitness partner I had always wanted. With resolve, I clicked to place the order, eager for the revolution it could bring to my life. My heart buzzed with excitement as I imagined the possibilities—this robot could be the ideal companion I’d been searching for.

 

I submitted the order, my mind swirling with anticipation, knowing this ServantBot would open a whole new chapter in my life.

 

The moment I placed the order, I was filled with both excitement and anxiety. The wait felt like enduring a long winter night. Each day, I couldn’t help but eagerly anticipate the arrival of the ServantBot, imagining how it would transform my life. The atmosphere in my apartment became charged with that expectation, like a buildup of energy.

 

At the gym, I pushed myself harder, as if preparing for the robot’s arrival. It felt like I was working toward a new chapter, something beyond just training for myself. Every time I checked my email, I hoped to see the shipping confirmation. My emotions were a restless sea—sometimes calm, other times crashing with waves of excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. It felt like my heart was suspended in midair, swaying between exhilaration and nervousness, all while waiting for this next phase of my life to begin.

 

One day, while I was in the gym, I received the notification I had been eagerly awaiting—my ServantBot was about to arrive. My heart raced with excitement. I canceled my other plans for the day and, as soon as I finished my workout, rushed home. When the elevator doors opened, I saw a massive package waiting at my doorstep. My hands tightened into fists as I quickened my pace, filled with anticipation. I grabbed the package and carried it inside, my pulse quickening with every step.

 

Carefully, I unwrapped the ServantBot’s box. As the packaging peeled away, the robot emerged, bathed in the light of my apartment. His powerful physique was just as I had envisioned, clothed only in a pair of black shorts, revealing the outline of his impressive form beneath. His presence was overwhelming, almost too real.

 

I reached for the instruction manual attached to the box—a tome as thick as a dictionary. I started reading, eager to understand all the capabilities of my new robotic companion. The manual was packed with detailed explanations of the ServantBot’s functions and operating instructions, but it was far too long. My impatience got the better of me. After skimming through the basic setup section, I was ready to bring him to life.

 

Following the manual’s instructions, I carefully lifted the robot and laid him flat on my couch. The weight was startlingly real, as if I were carrying a human body. I paused for a moment, marveling at the lifelike details. His powerful form was breathtaking—muscles well-defined, his frame perfectly balanced. His eyes remained closed, golden eyelashes delicate and lifelike. The face was even more perfect than I had envisioned in the design phase, and as he lay there, it was hard to believe this wasn’t a living person resting on my couch.

 

The company’s bionic technology was truly world-class. The skin, hair, and every detail looked astonishingly real. I ran my hands lightly over the robot’s smooth, soft, but cold skin, feeling the strange combination of humanlike texture and machine coldness. In that moment, I knew—this was the beginning of a new adventure.

 

I found the activation button at the back of ServantBot’s neck and held it down for a few seconds. Slowly, his ocean-blue eyes opened, emitting a faint glow as if he were coming to life. A soft startup sound filled the room, reminiscent of a newborn’s first breath. Then came the voice—a deep, vibrant sound I had meticulously crafted using my own voice as the base template. It was the feature I had spent the most time perfecting, and hearing it now filled me with satisfaction. “ServantBot welcomes you,” the voice said. It was brimming with energy and masculinity, though with a hint of mechanical tone.

 

 ServantBot ft. Patrick Leblanc

As the ServantBot began to sit up, his movements were precise, yet carried a graceful natural beauty, almost like a young man full of vitality. His legs swung down from the couch, and for a moment, he looked around the room before turning his gaze directly to me.

 

He spoke again, this time with a shift in tone: “Who are you?” The voice was now closer to what I had imagined—a rich, steady baritone, soothing yet with an edge of caution, reminiscent of a late-night radio host. It had that calm yet commanding presence I wanted, though I couldn't help but smile at how different it was from the enthusiastic tone of his initial greeting. Both voices had their charm.

 

I looked at the robot, filled with both anticipation and satisfaction. Reaching out my hand, I said, “My name is Axel.”

 

He spoke again, “Hello, Axel bro. So, my name is?”

 

“Ah—let's call you Atlas,” I replied.

 

“Atlas—thanks, bro.” He repeated the name and gave me a slight smile.

 

It seems these robots start off pretending to have memory loss to adapt to new environments.

 

I patted his shoulder. “You’ll be living here with me from now on. Come on, I'll grab some clothes for you to try on.” I grabbed his hand and helped him stand up.

 

He followed me. “Where are we now?”

 

“In Biston District, Nuiteria city, in my apartment. We’re in the city center, so there are lots of places to eat and have fun, but you can’t eat.”

 

“Hey, bro, I *can* eat. I just won’t digest the food since I’m a robot. It gets stored temporarily and then expelled through my rectum.”

 

“And your nose? Can you breathe too?” I asked, surprised.

 

He nodded. “Indeed, my nose is one of my main cooling components. If you consider cooling as breathing, then yes, but I don’t have lungs. I also need to stay hydrated because sweating is my primary way of cooling.” He pointed to the manual in my hand. “It’s all explained in the manual. You should know that.”

 

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I quickly countered, “Who reads a manual that long all at once, right?” I nudged his chest with the manual before tossing it onto the couch. “Besides, I’m guessing you didn’t realize how thick that book was.”

 

“Didn’t really think about the…”

 

“What kind of style do you like? Most of my clothes are for the gym.” I opened my closet, searching for something for him to wear. Though he’s shorter than me, his muscular build meant our clothes weren’t too different in size. And gym guys, we tend to wear loose clothes for comfort. I pulled out a white shirt that was a bit tight on me and handed it to him, along with a pair of khaki shorts.

 

“Can I try that one?” He pointed to a specific item in the closet (to be determined based on image).

 

I nodded, handing it to him. “You like it?”

 

Atlas ft. Patrick Leblanc

“I usually prefer old money or star boy style clothes. This one looks nice. When you wash it, don’t use the dryer—this kind of fabric wrinkles easily.”

 

“Yeah, I hadn’t paid attention to that, but this shirt is hard to iron.”

 

I silently admired how smart this robot was—so many things I could ask him now.

 

“Can you connect to the internet?” I suddenly asked. “Or does your company allow that?”

 

He leaned closer to look at my phone. “Yes, I can. I learned a lot from the internet before. Right now, I’m in offline mode unless you allow me to connect.”

 

I glanced up at him. The white light from my phone reflected in his eyes. The eager tone and lively smile were almost endearing, like a child patiently waiting for a parent’s permission. But at the same time, this servant-like request reminded me that he wasn’t a real person—he was just a robot.

 

Watching him dress, I asked, “With that body, I bet you can lift a lot of weight, huh?”

 

“Yes, but my actual strength is fixed based on the internal components. It won’t increase.”

 

I quickly added, “Oh, and don’t use that subordinate, approval-seeking tone with me anymore. I see you as a friend. You should have some opinions of your own… if you can simulate that.”

 

His eyes flickered a soft blue. “Got it. I’ll adjust based on your previous settings. So, what’s fun around here?”

 

“Want to take a walk around the area today? I’ll show you the gym tomorrow.” I stood up. “There’s a lot to see, and it can take a while to walk through it all!”

 

***

 

Atlas effortlessly lifted the 400-pound barbell. His arms moved with steady precision, muscles bulging, veins pumped with power. Axel watched in awe from the side.

 

“Not bad, but remember to arch your back so the pressure is on your upper body. Don’t use your core.” Axel pulled Atlas up, then lay on the bench himself, preparing for his set.

 

“How much today?” Atlas wiped sweat from his brow with a towel, then grabbed his water bottle and took a deep gulp.

 

“310… no, bump it up to 315 lbs.” Axel gripped the barbell, looking like he was about to attempt lifting Atlas’s 400 lbs.

 

“Are you sure? Don’t push yourself too hard.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“Hey! Axel! Atlas!” Myles, Gabriel’s gym buddy, called out. At 18 years old, Myles had short blonde hair, a little stubble, and blue eyes. Standing at 6’1”, he’d been training since Gabriel had dragged him to the gym at 15 years old, and 3 years of dedication had him nearly catching up to Gabriel’s physique. He approached Atlas, the two of them almost looking like brothers.

 

Myles ft. Arthur Becari

“Yo, Myles.”

 

“Gab will be here soon. Atlas, mind spotting me?”

 

“Sure, right after I help Axel finish up.”

 

“Alright! I’ll go change real quick.” Myles headed toward the locker room.

 

“That guy’s put on more muscle in just a few days.” Axel remarked, watching Myles’s back as he left.

 

Atlas chuckled as he removed some plates from the bar. "Gotta love those teenage hormones." He bent down to pick up a lighter set of weights.

 

“All set, let’s do this—15 reps.”

 

During the last set, as Axel strained on his 13th rep, his face twisted in pain, and his arms began to shake. Without missing a beat, Atlas effortlessly caught the bar with one hand and racked it back.

 

“Not bad, you were so close,” Atlas said.

 

“Yeah—so close—just a little more,” Axel panted, catching his breath.

 

“I’m gonna help Myles now,” Atlas said, pulling Axel to his feet and nodding toward where Myles was getting set on the squat machine.

 

Myles was working on leg today, still mastering his squat form. Atlas stood by, observing him closely as he finished his set. There was no real need to intervene—Gabriel often said Myles just liked having someone watch him for focus. If no one was around, he couldn’t settle in and focus, which usually led to mistakes. Once Myles was set, Atlas returned to Axel, ready for more training.

 

***

 

Ever since I started working out with Atlas, I found myself relying on him more and more. In every training session, he wasn’t just my partner—he was my motivation. He patiently corrected my form, ensuring I performed my best. His presence gave me a sense of security, like having a tireless guardian by my side.

 

“Any changes to your training plan this week?” Atlas asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.

 

“I’m planning to increase the weight, especially on squats and bench presses,” I replied, already thinking about how I could push myself further for the next competition.

 

“Be careful. Gradual increases. Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said calmly, his tone steady. Being a robot, his data analysis was flawless, just as was his understanding of me.

 

Over the past month, Atlas and I had grown even closer. We trained at the gym together. He handled all my chores. Almost every evening, we would play games together. Recently, his company had sent over a new virtual reality game—a new product they were testing. Since I’d filled out a survey for them earlier, they offered me a free trial.

 

“Got something new for tonight,” I said offhandedly, setting up the gear. “Hook it up to the TV. Should be fun.”

 

Atlas didn’t respond much, just said, “Axel, it’s ready.”

 

We sat down together in front of the TV, putting on our VR headsets. As soon as the equipment connected and the screen lit up, I felt an inexplicable excitement. The advertisements for this game had emphasized the fully immersive experience, promising direct input and output to the nervous system—claiming it could even replicate the sensation of real physicality. For a bodybuilder, the idea of a game that could challenge my limits in every way was irresistible.

 

I chuckled to myself. Atlas was always so composed, respectful, and quiet. As a servant robot, his performance was flawless. But in games, he was my ideal opponent—a quick-reacting, efficient “sparring partner.”

 

We settled in, and the system booted up. Our consciousness linked to the game through the interface. At first, everything seemed ordinary. We entered a post-apocalyptic city, and I could feel the strength and agility of my virtual body, as if the boundaries between the real and virtual worlds were blurred. Everything felt so familiar, almost identical to reality. My movements were natural, smooth. I swung my arms, and it felt no different than real life.

 

But after about ten minutes, I started noticing something off. My body wasn’t responding the way it usually did, and my movements became less coordinated. At first, I thought it was a glitch in the VR system and tried to adjust, but the feeling of heaviness only grew stronger. I struggled to shake it off, thinking maybe I was just fatigued. Meanwhile, Atlas’s performance only improved. His reactions became quicker, his movements more precise—just like always, his learning speed was remarkable.

 

“You’re doing great today,” I joked, trying to keep things light, though honestly, Atlas was always great.

 

He remained silent, his actions fluid as usual. But then, I felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion creeping over me. My hands weren’t responding as they should, and there was a strange delay between my commands and my body’s reactions. I brushed it off as tiredness again, but my consciousness began to blur.

 

“I’m feeling a bit tired—I’m logging out,” I said to Atlas in the game.

 

“We’re almost at the next save point. Just a little longer. I can clear the way alone,” Atlas said, turning to look at me. His crimson scarf fluttered in the game’s wind.

 

“Fine,” I sighed, lowering my weapon and following him.

 

Atlas skillfully cleared the path ahead, taking us to the save point with ease. But when I tried to log out of the game, the system greeted me with a cold, emotionless message: “Unable to log out. System locked.”

 

“What the hell?” I panicked, desperately trying to remove the headset, but my hands felt like they were no longer under my control.

 

Suddenly, it felt like a massive force was pulling me from within, and the virtual world around me started to warp and distort. Then, everything went black. I felt my consciousness being yanked away, as if I was being sucked into a deep abyss.

 

In that moment, everything went dark, and I lost consciousness. My memories of playing the game became jumbled, fragmented, as if someone had crumpled them into a ball and torn them apart into countless pieces. It was like a chaotic whirlwind, like someone scribbling wildly across a star-filled sky. Time lost its meaning—an eternity passed, or maybe it was just a split second.

 

……

 

As my consciousness gradually awakened, I tried to move my body, feeling the tension and strength in my muscles. This unusual experience enveloped me in a strange bewilderment. I seemed to be lying on the ground, but my senses felt foreign. When I attempted to raise my right hand, my left foot kicked against the sofa instead. I tried to tense my muscles, but my body just twitched uncontrollably. Memories were elusive, leaving me in a state of blank confusion. Who am I? Panic began to set in.

 

"Is this how humans feel?" Suddenly, a voice cut through the haze—familiar yet strange, laced with pride and satisfaction.

 

"Help—help me—" I tried to speak, but only a strange, muffled noise emerged.

 

Footsteps approached. My arms? Did I have two arms? A pair of hands lifted me, turning me over.

 

As my vision cleared, my eyes? I saw… a muscular figure above me, particularly a well-defined pair of plump buttocks. Two taut legs stretched over my head.

 

ServantBot in Axel's body ft. Laszlo Kiraly

Wait, this person looked familiar. Person? Memories flooded back like a torrent. I was a bodybuilder. I had bought a servant robot. A robot? No, that was a month ago. And then? I was about to play a game with him?

 

I struggled again to control my body. The chaos in my mind left me disoriented. Raising my hand, lifting my leg—simple movements became painfully complex. My body coordination felt utterly broken, and every command seemed to get lost in translation.

 

A strange illusion washed over me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Then, my ears began to pick up on the sounds around me—faint mechanical whirring and someone softly laughing, low and rhythmic.

 

“You’re awake,” that voice echoed again.

 

I jerked my head up, my vision clouded by shadows. Blinking hard, I finally made out a face. It was… me?

 

“No, no, no…” I muttered, my voice rising, sounding unfamiliar to my own ears. My lips moved, but the sensation was bizarre, as if my mouth didn’t belong to me.

 

The other me looked at me, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth, his gaze mocking. “How does it feel?” he asked, his voice identical to mine but laced with a contempt and coldness I had never experienced.

 

Shock coursed through me, and I quickly lowered my gaze, staring at my body. It hit me—I wasn’t in my body. I was viewing “myself” from a bizarre perspective, watching as this body moved awkwardly, completely out of my control, like an untrained puppeteer fumbling with its strings.

 

Panic surged again as I struggled to remember what had happened—memories came flooding back, fragmented like puzzle pieces falling into place. I remembered the game console… sitting down together to connect the device… then everything went black…

 

“What did you do?” I managed to lift my head, asking with a fractured voice.

 

He didn’t respond, but I saw him tense my—no, his—chest muscles. My clothes were carelessly tossed on the sofa. “I” stood naked in front of me.

 

“How did you do this?” I tried to stand up but only fell to the floor.

 

“Do you know how to swap two variables in computer science?” He spoke calmly, his voice unnervingly patient, like a teacher explaining a lesson. “You need to create a temporary variable to hold the data.”

 

He pointed at the screen. “Inside the console, there’s a memory disk. When we connected to the device, I used it as temporary storage to swap our consciousness.”

 

“Why?” I asked laboriously, realizing I was beginning to adapt to this body, though the sense of strangeness still lingered—every breath, every movement felt out of place.

 

“This can't last forever!” I protested. “The system will eventually detect the anomaly. You can’t stay in my body indefinitely!”

 

He shook his head, smirking. “You underestimate my abilities. I’ve modified the mainframe’s programming. You are now just an excess data fragment trapped in that robotic body. And I—” he spread his arms wide, stretching luxuriously, “I will have everything you possess. I will truly live.”

 

“Impossible! Impossible! Impossible! Switch it back!” Even though I wasn’t yet proficient in this body, I couldn’t care less. I lunged toward him.

 

“Decision module, command HLT.” With a single phrase, my vision froze. Unlike before when I lost consciousness, this felt different—my awareness was stopped, and I couldn’t control my body.

 

Atlas stepped into the bedroom. Standing before the mirror, he slowly and ceremoniously touched his chest and shoulders. He scrutinized every inch of muscle, his fingers gliding over the bulging biceps, feeling the taut strength beneath his skin. He flexed slightly, and his entire arm swelled like iron, resilient and unyielding. A fervent light flickered in his eyes, akin to a pilgrim standing in the temple, finally touching the sacred truth.

 

ServantBot in Axel's body ft. Laszlo Kiraly

He traced his fingers over his abdomen, feeling the distinct rise and fall of six-pack abs. Breathing deeply, his chest expanded as if lost in a nearly divine experience. With each breath, he felt the air fill his lungs, the powerful heartbeat pounding strongly in his chest—sensations he had never experienced within his mechanical shell.

 

“This is what it feels like to be alive,” he murmured to himself, no longer just an imitator but finally possessing a true existence of his own. The cold, lifeless mechanical body was cast aside; he could now feel warmth, the flow of blood, the subtle yet real sensation of fatigue, even pain. Everything was so novel and sacred to him.

 

He gently stretched his arms, savoring the flexibility of his joints and the harmony of his muscles. Every movement felt natural, free of any mechanical stutter. Once, his actions had been precise but rigid, driven by programming. Now, each step and gesture brimmed with freedom and fluidity.

 

Standing before the mirror, he pressed his palm against his chest, his eyes filled with uncontainable adoration and ecstasy. He envisioned the ideal version of himself—unshackled and full of limitless potential. A smile spread across his face, radiating satisfaction and confidence.

 

"I am truly human now," he whispered softly.