text: In the quaint outskirts of a small Greek town, there lived a reclusive inventor named Alberto. Kind-hearted but peculiar, he found his solace in the company of his contraptions rather than in people. While he may have been socially obtuse, he was nevertheless culturally impassioned, having a profound fondness for old things. His cozy cottage home overflowed with vintage gadgets, antique books, and cogs of forgotten contraptions scattered throughout. Alberto's true passion, though, was found in building robots to perform various chores. His "little helpers," as he called them, were small and singularly-tasked. Some cooked. Some cleaned. Some maintained his garden. They all did their jobs and little else, but that was alright with Alberto. Each robot he built was slightly more efficient, slightly more intricate, and slightly more equipped to manage bigger and more complicated tasks than the robot before it. In the back of his mind, Alberto had a dream. He wanted to live forever, and the only way he could imagine doing that was to create a robot capable enough to contain his mind, the essence of his inner man. His dream was not nefarious, do not be mistaken. He did not seek great power or infamy. On the contrary, he merely loved to build, to tinker, and to see his creations hustling and bustling around him. He could not bear the thought that, one day, his hands would be unable to hold a tool, or that his eyes would be unable to see the small hole fit for a screw. He wanted to live forever so that he could work forever, constantly improving on the robots he built. And yet, despite his dream, and despite all the marvelous machines he had already built, his years of work had failed to produce a robot equipped enough to hold his mind as its central computer. He did not give up, though. Instead, as the gentle sounds of Nat King Cole played from the needle and vinyl in the corner of his workshop, he toiled away at his robots, crafting mechanical wonders that simplified his daily routines. One foggy morning, a soft knocking interrupted his work. Surprised by the intrusion, he cautiously opened the door to find a beautiful woman standing before him. Her name was Vivian, and she had an air of determination about her that intrigued the tinkerer. She introduced herself as an emissary of one Codrick Benino, the president of a prestigious robotics company, keen on hiring him to build state-of-the-art automatons for their clients. With a polite smile and a firm shake of his head, Alberto declined the offer, preferring the solitude of his workshop and his endearing household of mechanical helpers. He was autonomous and preferred to stay that way. Indeed, though he was a man of great passion, his zeal was only for his inventions. Many lovers had come and gone, each one coming into his life with the typical hopes that all new romances enjoy. One by one those hopes would whither, as Alberto would find his initial willingness to explore such feelings become a burden to his work. "Why invite me in at all, then?" the question would be asked of time and again. "I do not know," he would honestly admit. There was something that kept him seeking human companionship, but still something else that caused him to tire of it as soon as it began. Undeterred by Alberto's initial rejection, Vivian returned a week later, bearing a fresh proposal from her company. Despite her persuasiveness and the allure of near unlimited funds, Alberto remained steadfast in his reluctance. He cherished the freedom his reclusive life offered, where he could work without obligation to anyone but himself. He did not need the money being offered. His robots could farm and harvest. They could repair leaky roofs. He had all that he needed, thank you very much. And yet, Vivian's visits continued, and though Alberto's answer remained the same, he nevertheless continued to hear her out, listening with his head sticking out of his doorway, never so much as inviting his regular guest inside. Until, one day, for no discernable reason, either to Vivian or to Alberto himself, he changed his mind. She knocked on his door, as usual, and this time, instead of cracking the heavy mahogany door open enough to reveal his face, he extended it entirely and stepped aside to allow the lady to enter. "Would you like to see what I'm working on?" he asked her. Naturally, she was excited, and hurried in before he might change his mind. He gave her a tour of his untidy workplace, and listened as she expressed sincere fascination and wonder over his creations. As the weeks continued, each encounter further deepened their connection, leading to conversations that transcended robotics. Much to his delight, she shared in his love of old things, and they bonded over Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable." As the days stretched into nights, Alberto and Vivian's bond blossomed. They reveled in the pleasure of each other's company, finding mutual comfort in the beauty of simple moments. In the quiet corners of Alberto's workshop, they danced together, swaying as dulcet tones filled the air. Every time she visited, he had another trinket to show, but as the visits continued, she became less and less interested in seeing them, just as he became less and less interested in showing them. Eventually, her visits became matters of pleasure, instead of business. Alberto could no longer remain alone, he knew this. His dream of living forever inside a machine would have to wait. In the meantime, he wanted to live side-by-side with Vivian. He planned his proposal and decided to set the scene amidst a candlelit dinner. A table was prepared with vintage china and an exquisite bouquet of flowers, while Nat King Cole's melodies gently filled the space of his tidied-up workshop. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the door knocked, and Alberto's heart skipped a beat. Vivian was not there, however. Instead, a menacing figure loomed at the doorstep - a mobster with a cold gaze. He introduced himself as Vito, a "business associate" of Codrick Benino, who was tired of having his generous offers so casually dismissed. Vito threatened Alberto, demanding he surrender the secrets of his remarkable robot technology. Fear coursed through the inventor's veins, but he held firm, refusing to betray his creations or compromise his principles. Just as the tension between Alberto and the mobster reached its peak, another knock sounded in the workshop, and this time, it was Vivian at the door. Her eyes widened in shock and concern as she witnessed the confrontation before her. A heated argument ensued, threats were made, both physical and legal, and soon, a shot rang out. The mobster's bullet found its mark, silencing Vivian's voice forever. The workshop fell into a chilling stillness, broken only by a final threat given by Vito, and the promise that he would return in one week's time to collect everything Mr. Benino demanded. Distraught and filled with profound grief, Alberto knew he could not remain idle. His love for Vivian, and the guilt he carried for her death, compelled him to act. He gathered his tools, and a few of his unfinished prototype robots, and devised a plan to ensure the unscrupulous company paid for their deeds. That morning, Alberto visited Codrick Benino, and brought him a package that he promised would solve all his problems. Satisfied, Mr. Benino offered Alberto a great sum of money, which the inventor gladly accepted. That afternoon, Alberto sailed to a small island on the Mediterranean Sea, to begin a new life out of sight and out of mind. That evening, a tremendous explosion rang out within the offices of Codrick Benino, killing the company president and ending his business for good. Years passed, and in the seclusion of his lonely Mediterranean island, Alberto stewed in bitterness and regret. Slowly, the spark of creativity he once possessed began to rekindle and he set his mind on his work once more. Only now, his work was not a passion, but an obsession. He worked, not for the love of working, but for the desperate need to refocus his mind. He saw his time with Vivian as a mistake. He had to. Any other thought would be too painful to dwell on. Instead, he chose to believe his original quest-- to live forever within a mechanical creation-- was the goal he never should have abandoned. He turned his attention to the unfinished automatons he brought to the island with him. And yet, despite his insistence, he could not deny his heart. Subconsciously, each robot he worked on, and marked with a Roman numeral, became an extension of his own emotions, and a tribute to the life that was taken from him. The first robot, "I," was taught how to walk, and its initial steps mirrored Alberto's own as he gave it a tour of his untidy workshop. The second, "II," was taught how to speak, and it spoke with the gentle warmth he once had, easing the burden of his loneliness. "III" learned to sing the songs he had cherished with Vivian, filling the air with Nat King Cole's timeless melodies. The fourth, "IV," absorbed his thoughts and musings, pondering life's mysteries alongside him, the way he and she had once done after their many dinners together. The fifth, "V," was taught how to dance with Vivian's grace, evoking memories of happier times they had shared. But it was the sixth robot, "VI," that captured his heart. As he had done five times before, he leaned over the machine's chrome body and began to write its name. He etched the V. He etched the I. Six was the intended number, but it was a name that came to mind instead. He kept adding letters, and once he started, he could not stop until he was done. "VI" became "VIVIAN" and the sight of her name brought an emotional surge unlike anything he had experienced in years. The memories of his beloved flooded back, as if her presence was guiding him from beyond the veil of time. He decided to recreate her, not as an exact replica but as a tribute to the love they had shared. Alberto crafted a body for the "VIVIAN" robot that resembled his lost love, with her radiant smile and gentle eyes. He programmed her with the ability to walk, talk, sing, and dance, just like the other robots, but something else was missing. VIVIAN needed something more, but he did not know how to give it to her. As the robot's eyes opened for the first time, she gazed upon Alberto with curiosity and asked, "Who am I?" "VIVIAN," came his answer, but when the robot did not reply, he prompted her: "Ask me who I am." "I know who you are," VIVIAN answered. "I am programmed with all the memories from robots I through V. You are Alberto. You are--" "No," Alberto said, stopping the robot from finishing. "Ask me who I am." "Alright," it answered. "Who are you?" Tears welled in his eyes as he told her everything, sharing the most intimate parts of his life and the cherished memories he held dear. As he talked, he taught, leading VIVIAN through the motions that the previous robots had learned, walking talking, singing, and dancing. They danced together a lot in the days that followed, swaying to the nostalgic tunes of "Embraceable You" and "Unforgettable." Slowly, imperceptibly, Alberto allowed himself to be vulnerable once again, pouring his heart out to his creation. In VIVIAN, he found the catharsis he desperately needed, as she became the vessel for his emotions and the essence of his being. In time, he told her of his great desire, to put a part of himself in a robot so that it would live forever. He showed her the device he was tinkering with, unfinished, and asked if she would help him. Of course she agreed, but before they could begin again, a fever took him. The next few weeks found him in his bed more than at his desk. His robots kept his island cottage running, and VIVIAN, in particular, sat with him at his bedside while he rested, listening to him talk whenever he had strength to. Days passed but his fever lingered. Eventually, his old body tired too much to fight his illness. His life slipped free of his flesh, and he died in her arms, unfinished. VIVIAN remained on the island. The other robots remained with her, lacking the complexity of her design, lacking the depth of her learning. She continued to dance and sing, even when III and V abandoned such things for more practical work around the cottage. When IV stopped meditating on ideas and asking probing questions, VIVIAN's eyes glistened with the memories she held. The inventor was buried. His mind would not live on as he desired, but his love and passion would echo through time, carried within the circuits of his final creation. In VIVIAN, Alberto found a kind of immortality, not in the form of a transferred mind, but as a memory that would never fade, loved by something...by someone who would live on.