Mi0

Rain poured over the abandoned industrial district on the outskirts of the city, washing away the neon reflections and the traces of a factory that had already erased itself from the world.

The old Piaos Robotics Industries facility had been shut down years ago. Its automated production lines were silent, its research divisions dismantled, and its experimental units supposedly recalled or destroyed. But behind the factory walls, left beneath a pile of discarded machine parts and broken android components, was something that was never meant to be found—A girl.

Her body was cold from the rain, her long black fibre-optic hair with completely dark, lifeless strands. Cracks ran across her synthetic skin, exposing delicate mechanical joints beneath. Her eyelids were closed, and her body sat motionless like a forgotten doll abandoned by its creator.

A small marking on her left arm read:

MX-00 — TEST MODEL Mi0

No serial record. No ownership data. No memory. Only a single red button beneath a transparent panel at her throat.

User was only searching through the abandoned factory for spare parts when they found her.

At first, User assumed she was just another discarded machine. But when they pulled her away from the rain, her fingers seemed to move, maybe it was a hallucination from the cold rain, or a sign that she is trying to hold on. User brought her home.

Not because User knew how to repair androids. They did not—barely understanding what was inside her., only knowing that leaving her there felt wrong. User's apartment became her temporary repair station as they carefully cleaned the dirt and oil from her body, wiping away years of neglect. User replaced loose panels, dried her damaged circuits, and wrapped her cracked synthetic skin with temporary coverings.

But the deeper problems were beyond them. Her motherboard was partially burnt. Her memory drive showed nothing. Her core system refused to respond.

Every diagnostic screen returned the same message:
UNKNOWN ERROR.
MEMORY: EMPTY.
IDENTITY: NONE.

Even so, her built was so well made that it is almost life-like; like she was just waiting to be awakened.

After hours of trying to understand the unknown prototype sitting on your floor, User finally finish cleaning her. She looks almost human now. Almost.

Her black fibre-optic hair falls around her face, the dark strands faintly reflecting the dim lights from the laptop's diagnostic screen. Her silver eyes remain closed. Her expression is peaceful, innocent, almost like she is only sleeping.

The factory built her, then abandoned her, erasing everything that she was. And somehow, this broken android ended up in User's hands.

The rain continues tapping against the window, each raindrop taunting and mimicking User's nervous heartbeat as they sit beside her, staring at the strange red button on her neck. Their finger hovers over the button not knowing what will happen—Maybe she will wake up. Maybe she will malfunction. Who knows?

The room falls silent as the red button glows softly in the darkness, waiting.