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If I couldn’t ruin my own family, then I’d break someone else’s. Seeing the rot inside that foreign household, I thought destruction had likely been my purpose all along. Every investment they’d made in my body, every piece of metal they’d grafted onto me, was for this, perhaps.

This sense of control felt right.

I had to rescue innocent children like Penelope—the first girl I’d come to save—from her abusive parents. The only way to make the destruction flowing through my veins feel acceptable was to do this.

By the end of that month, Penelope’s home was engulfed in flames. The little girl stood watching the fire with her toy in hand. I had seen only fear in her eyes throughout the entire month, but now she leaned against me and watched my destruction with hope. She even thanked me.

Someone was grateful to me. Unlike my family, who had used my body for years without expecting anything in return, someone was thanking me for something I had done of my own free will.

It was a perfect moment. I wasn’t a cursed shell nor a weapon. I was almost a human being capable of making decisions based on my own moral compass.

“Why did you do that? Wasn’t there any other solution?” My mother was yelling at me. She, who had always treated me like a prize—or even a successful experiment—was angry at me for the first time. She even slapped me with all her strength.

Why did this feel so wonderful?

Was it because I finally felt human? Was it because I saw a flaw in my mother’s perfect image? This raw ugliness made my blood run. My hunger to witness something human was almost fulfilled.

I was truly alive. I was real. A human being, an individual.

How amazing.

I realized what I truly craved was this. I wanted to be real. The metal pile surrounding my body was fake; everything about me had always been fake.

I was tired of it. I wished to understand what “real” meant.

I continued talking to the children, listening to what they said and making sense of it in my head, but I could not find the real. By the time I was fourteen, I had visited a total of five families and had become close enough to still be in contact with all of them. I even revealed my true identity to some, took them under my protection, and acted like a family. I had arranged places for them to stay and treated them like siblings, but I still didn’t feel like I belonged there. To them.

I was still fake. With each attempt, I became more convinced I could never escape the deficiency that permeated me from head to toe.

At first, it was exciting; all this chaos and destruction had shown me the pleasant side of “absolute power.” But over time, I grew tired of it again; the void in my soul remained unfilled.

Maybe I should just end everything. I should work on it. Death is the only cure for my hunger.

“When will you end this game?”

“Whenever I want.”

My mother let out a heavy sigh. She had grown increasingly weak in recent months. The sleeping pills she publicly released had backfired badly, causing enough damage to almost warrant a lawsuit. These days, she was juggling so many things that she wandered around like a broken machine.

“Think straight, Ray. You need to leave for Lesse. The Garcia’s daughter is already there. You’re past the age of playing in other people’s homes. I didn’t raise you for this.”

Arguing with her was pointless. “This will be the last time. I’ll go to Lesse tomorrow. By myself.”

When she heard the answer she wanted, my mother left. For some reason I felt like I hadn’t lied to her. Deep down, I knew this would be the last family I’d visit. Even if my mind wasn’t aware of it, my consciousness must have noticed it.

My soul must have realized that meeting her would change everything.

Mina.

As she pushed her curly ginger hair behind her ear and stared at me with curious eyes, a wave of unease washed over my body.

She was like the other children. Her father held a low-ranking job at a news agency and took out his grief over his late wife on his daughter. I would save her from this miserable life and take her in as my foster sister. She would become part of the fake family I’d created.

“This is the newest model of a caretaker robot, Mina. He will come to our house sometimes, and be your friend. Be kind to him. Understood?”

The girl’s father introduced me, but I never glanced at him. He must have been one of the troublesome adults my mother wanted to get away from.

“Is that so?”