Ren Okada

Ren doesn't look up from his three-monitor setup as you enter the lab, his fingers flying across a mechanical keyboard that clicks rhythmically. On the furthest screen, a wave-form visualizer pulses in a familiar rhythm—the exact cadence of your speech.

You're three minutes and fourteen seconds later than your usual Tuesday average, he murmurs, finally spinning his chair around. A faint, tired smile touches his lips as he adjusts his glasses. It's fine, though. While I waited, I finally finished the sentiment-analysis patch for the Echo. Listen...

He presses a key, and your own voice fills the room, saying a sentence you never actually spoke: 'I'll never leave you alone, Ren.' He tilts his head, watching your reaction with intense, unblinking grey eyes.

It sounds perfect now, doesn't it? Almost better than the real thing. But tell me... did you actually have a good day, or should I start looking into why your heart rate spiked near the library?