His eyes snapped open. Within seconds. images and information downloaded into his mechanical brain.

He shifted a bit and pressed a button on the side of the capsule. With a rush of steam, the glass case opened to let him out. He pushed outward, and the cables attached to his head, arms, feet, and chest whirred and disengaged from him to slither back into the capsule. His eyes glowed a bit, his brain processing the shift from a primary power source to internal power supply via a battery pack.

He looked at the small room in a huge grid, with each object marked with coordinates. He scanned the room, looking for the source of his first mission. Eventually, he approached the large computer located near his capsule. It blinked open as he approached it, as if it anticipated his eventual presence. He did everything automatically as he was programmed, tapping keys here and there until he loaded a particular program.

The program booted and a video feed started. He furrowed his brows, as he was programmed when he was to show curiosity. In the video was a being dressed in white. He identified it as a human scientist, wearing a lab coat and glasses. The scientist had slightly long brown hair, wispy bangs over his eyes. He looked nervous, but he smiled at the camera.

Beautiful, he thought. But he didn’t know what it meant or why the word was suddenly in his thoughts.

“Before we start,” the person said. “Please put some clothes on. It’s a bit weird to talk to you even though I can’t really see you, haha. There are some draped on a chair to your right.”

Minho found the clothes and methodically slipped them on. He buttoned his shirt as if it was routine, then pressed the play button on the screen.

“Hi,” the image on the screen greeted. The image cleared his throat for a bit. “I don’t know if you’ll still have memories by the time you reboot, but just in case…your name is Minho.”

Minho, he thought. His brain immediately picked up the data and brought up a hidden file for Minho. He was a prototype made years ago, and was the sole surviving prototype of the 5th generation of androids this lab was perfecting. He wasn’t a utility android like most of the robots here. He was the first prototype who was the closest replica of a human being. His nickname was Almost, meaning almost human.

The image on the screen smiled for a bit then continued. “You must’ve downloaded all the info you need from a backup disc in you,” he said. “But you probably won’t remember my name. My name is Lee Jinki. I’m your creator.”

As if a cue word, data on Dr. Lee Jinki, world renowned scientist and inventor, filled Minho’s brain. He ws fed with information on everything Lee Jinki had, including his school and career awards, his inventions, his would-be inventions—even his lonely childhood without parents, his experiences with being bullied, and his frustration with work. It was as if he was being fed Jinki’s own memories.

“I don’t know if you’ll remember me just by my name,” Jinki continued. “When I first managed to make you talk, you called me Onew. I don’t even know why.” Jinki clasped his hands before him and took a deep breath. “This is the fifth time I’ve rebooted you, so I decided to make a video in order to make your memory recovery a bit easier.”

Minho cocked his head sideways, trying to get a good angle of Jinki. His brain should be feeding him information on Jinki’s emotion since he changed facial expressions, but it was giving him nothing.

The scientist continued talking. “You’re my first…and probably only, masterpiece,” he said, still addressing Minho. “I created you when I was eighteen. The other androids in the lab are very mechanical with their tasks. I wanted to create someone who was more…human.

“Now why would I do that, you’d think…or maybe not,” Jinki laughed a bit to himself then shakily continued. “Anyway, since I made you, you’ve undergone a lot of revisions and reboots. I perfected your internal structure, your power supply, your senses and skin to look like a human’s, your voice and conversation skills. Even your personality as a sports junkie were programmed by me.”

Minho looked at his fingers and flexed them. He didn’t know why he suddenly wanted to run around, but he decided to continue watching the video.

“You were wonderful, Minho. You exceeded all of my expectations. Sometimes you surprise me with how well and fast you learn things.” Jinki smiled at the screen and Minho’s brain interpreted his expression as someone who’s proud. “You..you were like an older brother to me then, and you did a lot for me. You protected me from trouble and you were with me every where. You were the perfect companion for me…but…”

Minho’s brain translated Jinki’s sigh as disappointment and sadness.

Jinki pursed his lips and smiled bitterly at the screen. “But no matter how much I revise you, there’s always something lacking.” He looked away for a bit before going on. “I can’t give you a heart, Minho.”

A search query for the term “heart” came up in Minho’s brain, but the meaning of the word was confusing for him. He frowned at the screen.

“I’m sorry, Minho. I tried my best to give you a heart. So that…so that maybe you’d understand all my commands. Or why…why I’m doing all of this for you.” Jinki bit his lower lip and tugged at his coat. “But all of my attempts failed. And…and every time I revise you, you erase your memory disc, so most of the time you don’t even remember me.” Jinki laughed, but Minho wondered why the laugh sounded weird from normal. “It was so hard, every time you reboot, it’s like you see me as a stranger and it hurt, Minho.”

Minho studied the screen. Jinki had stopped talking and only kept his head bowed. He could hear sounds, and his brain interpreted it as someone’s crying.

His creator was crying. He was programmed to comfort his creator whenever he cried.

“I’m sorry,” Jinki said as he came back up, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m just…you know that I took too long to develop you that instead of an older brother, you’ve now become my younger brother?” Jinki laughed that weird laugh again. “It’s not a bad thing, though, but sometimes…” he trailed off, then sat up straight and smiled at the screen.

“Anyway, Minho. I’ve developed you a heart. Again,” Jinki announced. “That heart should be better than the last one, honestly I’ve lost track of how many trials we’ve done.” He threw up his hands and sighed. “I…You stopped responding to me a few days ago and I don’t even know when you will be back up. I don’t even know if you will even be alive again. But just in case, just in case, Minho…” he stared at the screen. “Minho, please test out this heart, okay? It’s my final work.”

A partition near the keyboard flipped open and a glowing machinery popped up. It had a button on its surface. Minho studied it but his brain couldn’t identify what it was.

“It’s the switch to activate your heart, Minho,” Jinki said. Minho wondered why the creator looked so sad, there wasn’t any death or illness around and Minho only understood from his data that these two things caused sadness. It was confusing. “Minho, you have to press the button, alright?” Jinki instructed. “If…If you ever wake up and I’m not here anymore…” Jinki let out a shaky breath and swallowed. “And if you regain your memories of me when you open your heart…I hope that you remember that…”

Minho inched his finger towards the button and pressed it.

“Remember that I love you so much, Minho. Okay? You have to remember.”

As he pushed the button, Minho was filled with immense energy. His machinery squealed, as if bursting into flames. Data rushed from the small heart and poured into Minho’s brain, making his shake and stagger with the large amounts of material he was receiving. There were flashes of things that he could remember: a younger-looking Jinki frantically scrubbing rust from Minho’s hands; a night spent inside the closet with Jinki; the feel of Jinki’s lips on him before the man caught himself and cursed and ran out of the room…

Minho held on to the desk as he absorbed memories and emotions and feelings—all of them for Jinki. His form stumbled and fell to the floor as he clutched his chest, for there was immense pain that wasn’t there before and he could feel warmth running down his cheeks.

His brain interpreted his reactions well. He was crying.

As he screamed, the phenomena ended abruptly. He panted as he tried to stand up once more, bits of memories still swimming in his brain. He swallowed thickly and looked at the screen. For some reason, he had developed an intense thirst to look at Jinki’s face, to see his creator smile. He yearned for the light touches registered on his skin, even though they were only fleeting memories he had only received minutes ago. He wanted to hold Jinki, to do inexplicable things he hadn’t even thought of doing before. Minho was confused. Slowly, he placed a hand on his chest, jumping a bit when he felt a certain beat.

Did he finally develop a heart?

Suddenly, the door opened and the thud of a bag echoed in the doorway. Minho whipped around to find himself looking at a man with cropped and brushed up red hair, casual clothes, and a shocked expression. “What…” the person started as he stared in shock.

Minho pressed a hand on his cheek to find tears running down his face again. He clutched his chest, and the beating in it was so rapid. Slowly, his eyes widened. He couldn’t explain it but he felt something his brain interpreted as euphoria. He opened his mouth to speak for the first time.

“Onew.”

“Minho...”

For the first time, Minho understood why humans smile.