Kaivan's days of recovery passed slowly. Every morning, he began with light exercises, training his body to accept the new prosthetics. Fabrizio was always by his side, full of enthusiasm, carrying new sketches and molds to refine the mechanical design.
Even though the prosthetics fit perfectly, Kaivan still felt strange. He couldn't feel anything through his metal arms and legs, as if a part of himself had truly been lost.
The nights felt long and silent. Kaivan often sat in a chair near the window, gazing at the star-filled sky. Cold air slipped through tiny gaps in the glass, brushing against his skin—which now felt unfamiliar, even to himself.
He raised his mechanical hand and placed it against his chest. But the cold metal gave him none of the warmth he longed for. That touch only reminded him of what he had lost.
Still, beneath that emptiness, a small determination began to grow—like an ember struggling to stay alive in the wind.
In the middle of the silence, Lyra's voice came from a small speaker on the wall. As usual, her tone was flat, but this time there was something hard to explain—as if she were searching for something.
"Kaivan, this conversation is only between the two of us. There is no recording. No one else will hear it," Lyra said calmly.
Kaivan turned toward the camera in the corner of the room. He knew Lyra was watching. "What do you want to say, Lyra?" he asked softly.
Lyra paused for a moment before replying. "That night, during the rescue… why did you come back? Wasn't that the same as throwing your life away?" Her voice sounded cold, but there was deep curiosity beneath it.
Kaivan smiled faintly and looked back out the window. "I've told you before, haven't I? Even if you're not human, you're real. You're a friend who stays by my side. Just like now."
Lyra didn't answer right away. After several seconds of silence, her voice returned.
"But I'm just a collection of data. Even when I was transferred into that robot body, I felt nothing—no pain, no happiness. I'm just… a program. Why would you risk your life for something like me?"
Kaivan looked at his metal arm. He tapped it lightly, producing a soft clang of metal against metal.
"Now I understand you more than ever," he said quietly. "This part of my body can't feel anything either. Just like you."
Lyra spoke again, this time more firmly. "No, Kaivan. I'm still just a program. That's a fact that cannot be changed." But there was hesitation at the end of her words.
Kaivan smiled gently. "You once said you wanted to try my cooking, didn't you? Back then, you said you wanted to eat satay."
"I was just curious about what it feels like to chew and put organic matter into a body," Lyra replied quickly.
Kaivan looked straight into the camera, his eyes steady. "That's because, deep inside you, there's a desire to live. Or… at least, a desire to keep existing."
Lyra fell silent for a long time. The hum of machines became the only sound in the room. At last, she asked softly,
"Is that… the subconscious? What do you mean?"
Kaivan, already growing sleepy, lay back on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, then replied quietly,
"The subconscious is when you do something without thinking too much… because deep down, you really want to do it…"
His voice slowly faded. His breathing grew calm and steady. He fell asleep.
Lyra did not speak again that night. Only the faint blue light in the corner of the room continued to glow, watching over two beings who were both learning, in their own ways, what it meant to 'live.'
She remained silent, observing Kaivan through the camera. She watched every breath he took, the slow rise and fall of his chest and metal limbs.
"He's asleep now…" she murmured softly, mostly to herself. "Alright… I'll ask him again when he wakes up. When no one else is around."
The night sank into stillness. The question Lyra had asked earlier hung in the air, unanswered, like a faint echo in empty space. Perhaps, even Lyra herself did not yet know the true answer.
Meanwhile, in the laboratory, Fabrizio stared at the structure of a conventional prosthetic hand lying on his desk. His eyes narrowed, filled with calculation.
"Ah… I see now," he murmured. "If I add an additional system here, this prosthetic should be able to feel sensations—not just move mechanically."
He began writing rapidly on his digital tablet, his fingers moving like an artist carving a new idea into existence.
Autumn morning arrived slowly. October 2012. The air was cold, yet clear. Sunlight streamed through the window of Kaivan's room, falling gently on the metal surface of his body.
He sat before a holographic screen, reading reports projected by the Tome Omnicent—the living book that displayed data about the outside world and his friends. From time to time, he tapped the desk with his metal fingers, the soft clinking sound echoing through the room.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps rushed down the corridor.
The door burst open.
Fabrizio appeared, his face burning with excitement.
"Kaivan! I've found a way to make your body almost normal again!" he shouted, breathless.
Kaivan turned toward him, his eyes filled with questions and a trace of hope.