Hammya opened the door cautiously and found Candado slumped over a table, sipping mate. The deep shadows under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, yet his mind remained sharp. He seemed held together by a mix of stubbornness and sheer will.

  "You lied," she said dryly.

  "It was sarcasm," Candado replied without looking up, bringing the mate back to his lips. "Go away. I'm busy."

  In the center of the room, Clementina sat motionless, almost fully repaired. Her inert body rested as if in a deep sleep. Candado's work gloves were blackened with grease and dust, yet his shirt remained incredibly clean, as if refusing to reflect the chaos surrounding him.

  "Asking 'What are you doing?' would be a stupid question, wouldn't it?"

  "Pretty much."

  "So... are you done?"

  "No. I'm thinking. I can’t afford mistakes," he said, staring at Clementina’s hands. "I’ve always fixed her when she got hurt, but this is the first time I’ve had to rebuild her almost from scratch. I replaced many of her old parts."

  "Wow... And how did you do that?"

  "I made every piece from nothing," Candado said, holding up a charred circuit board.

  "How? I don’t know much about engineering or tech, but those parts aren’t made from just one thing."

  "Exactly. And?"

  "You said you made them."

  "Correct. I have the materials. If I don’t, I create them. I don’t care how expensive it gets."

  He set the mate aside and slowly approached Clementina. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed.

  "You have to wake up, silly."

  "Yeah... I miss her too. But I know you'll bring her back."

  Two hours passed. It was already two in the afternoon. Candado assembled and disassembled components, trying to correct every possible flaw. But Clementina remained unresponsive. For a moment, he considered taking her apart completely and starting over, but he couldn’t do that without understanding why she wouldn’t return to life.

  As a last resort, he connected a cable to the back of Clementina’s neck. He didn’t use electricity. Instead, he channeled a different kind of current—his own life force. His violet blood. An internal surge, driven from deep within his body. The process drained him further. He barely ate, slept even less, and now he was pouring out his very essence for her.

  "ENERGY AT 100%."

  The familiar, tedious voice emerged from within the metallic body. A faint hum, like the sigh of a machine that didn’t want to wake up. But nothing happened. No flicker of lights. No tremble of gears. Only silence.

  Candado, caught between hope and resignation, gently removed the cable. His fingers trembled—not from weakness, but from suppressed rage. He held it a moment longer, as if faith itself were slipping through his pores. Then, in a dry, impulsive motion, he hurled it against the wall. The metallic crash echoed through the room like a whip crack.

  "What is it?!" he shouted in despair. "Why won’t you work?!"

  But the scream died as quickly as it had risen. He forced himself to breathe, to swallow the storm. His voice lowered—not in defeat, but in resolve.

  "I’m not giving up."

  He leaned over Clementina, so fragile in appearance, so still. He touched her face with a tenderness that clashed with his previous rage, a soft caress that felt more like a goodbye than a reset. His hand prepared to detach her faceplate, to try the impossible one more time.

  And then he felt it.

  A slight movement.

  Almost imperceptible.

  Clementina’s index finger had twitched, like a leaf stirred by the wind. Candado froze, unable to react. The air thickened. Time slowed. Only his eyes moved, frantic, needing to confirm again and again that it hadn’t been his imagination.

  The hand moved again. This time more clumsily. As if the body were struggling to remember what it meant to be alive.

  “Clementina…”

  The word escaped his lips like a prayer.

  And then, she opened her eyes.

  Candado stepped back—not out of fear, but from the weight of the moment. The miracle was unfolding before him, and he wasn’t sure if his soul was ready to hold it. But Clementina gave him no time to doubt. Slowly, she reached for his hand and guided it to her cheek. The gesture was weak, but heavy with meaning. Her touch was cold—but alive.

  With effort, she began to rise. From within her came hums, clicks, vibrations: the symphony of complex machinery starting after a long sleep. She wasn’t just a machine. She was her. She was returning.

  When she finally stood, silence filled the room like a sacred rite. A silence thick with hysteria and long-held affection.

  Candado slowly withdrew his hand. He felt unsteady, vulnerable. Not from weakness—but because hope, when it returns, hurts.

  She looked at him. Her face was blank, like a freshly wiped slate. But not her eyes. Her green, spiral eyes spoke, even if they didn’t yet know what to say.

  Then she took a step.

  And another.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  And another.

  Each shakier than the last, as if the floor were crumbling beneath her. Instinctively, he moved to help, but Clementina refused. Just a small gesture—a turn of her head—that seemed to cost her soul.

  She wanted to reach him on her own.

  Three steps.

  Three steps that felt like miles.

  When she finally stood before him, she raised her arms. A slow movement, lacking strength. Hammya, watching from the corner, flinched in surprise, but Candado didn’t move.

  "I won’t move," he said, his voice firm, like a vow.

  Clementina leaned against him. She hugged him. Awkwardly, yes. But she did it. Her body was still stiff, her face expressionless. But the intent was clear. It wasn’t the hug of a machine—it was the hug of someone who remembered love, even if they still didn’t know how to express it.

  “I once heard… once felt… and once dreamed,” she whispered, barely audible.

  Candado held his breath. That line. He knew it. It was from the book he used to read.

  “Rain of Dreams,” by King Copas. “Yes, I read it,” he whispered in reply, as if the coincidence were too perfect to be chance.

  And then, Clementina smiled. Just barely. But it was real.

  “Oh, I can’t hold it in…” she murmured, and in that moment, she surrendered. She left behind her neutrality and threw herself into his arms with the warmth that had always defined her. This time, the embrace was complete. Human. Intimate.

  “Good morning, young master,” she said, then looked out the window and corrected herself, “Oh… it's beyond morning. I should say: good afternoon, young master.”

  Then she gently pulled back and looked him up and down.

  “That’s right… you don’t like physical contact.”

  She began fixing his clothes with care, in that perfectionist way of hers.

  “Where’s your beret? You look more handsome with it.”

  Hammya smiled as tears ran silently down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Saillim? Oh, I know… Are you in pain?”

  Candado stood there, unmoving, his eyes reddened. He wanted to cry too.

  “Oh… looks like you have something to say, don’t you?” said Hammya, trying to keep her voice steady, though the smile on her face trembled.

  Candado didn’t reply. He slowly removed his gloves, let them fall to the floor… and suddenly lunged toward her.

  “Don’t ever do that again… ever,” he said with a broken voice, burying his face into her chest.

  Clementina hugged him gently, a bit bewildered.

  “Oh, all right… I promise. But… what exactly shouldn’t I do? It’s obvious you know… but I have no idea.”

  Candado said nothing more. It was as if his words had run out.

  “Sir…”

  Hammya wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

  “Leave him be, Clem. He’s resting.”

  “Oh, okay. By the way…”

  “Yes?”

  “What day is it today?”

  Hammya let out a soft laugh, as if something important had just come back to her. She turned to the door and flung it open.

  “Come see this!”

  “Uh… seriously, what day is it?” repeated Clementina, a little confused.

  “Clem?!” called a voice from the hallway. It was Hipólito.

  “Old man?! Why are we shouting?” asked Clementina with innocent bewilderment.

  Europa appeared next, her face lit with joy at the sight of her.

  “I can’t believe it…” she whispered, then ran forward to embrace her.

  “Oh, thank you… Is today a special day?” Clementina asked, smiling but clearly disoriented.

  Then came a loud THUMP!

  “Ow! Well, it didn’t hurt… But why did you do that, Mr. Arturo?”

  “For worrying us so much.”

  “Oh… I see… wait, actually, I don’t. I really don’t.”

  “Clem!” said Karen, stepping in to give her a tight hug.

  “Oh, you too. Great. Hey, I’d honestly love to hug all of you, but if I do, young master will drop straight to the floor.”

  “Is he asleep?” asked Arturo.

  “Binary systems willing, I hope so… let me check,” Clementina leaned toward Candado. “Yes, yes, he’s asleep.”

  “Family, I saw the door open and decided to come in, so… CLEM!” shouted Héctor as he entered.

  “What’s new, Mr. Héctor,” she replied as he rushed to embrace her.

  “I didn’t think you’d do that… You really surprise me,” Clementina remarked.

  “Thank God,” whispered Héctor with relief.

  “Oh, thank the guy up there all you want, but it’s Candado who should be getting hugs right now.”

  “I’ll go tell the others,” said Héctor, ignoring her last comment and hurrying off.

  “Oh… well… what?”

  “At least bring me clothes!” Clementina shouted after him.

  “Right, right. I’ll go get them,” Hammya replied.

  “Thank you, Miss Hammya.”

  Clementina found herself surrounded by the Barret family. Each of them embraced her, touched her gently, and spoke words she didn’t fully understand yet—but they warmed her chest.

  “It’s strange to say this, but... I don’t feel uncomfortable. I don’t know... it’s warm, maybe? Are you saying goodbye to me?” she asked, her eyes shimmering.

  “No,” they all answered at once, smiling.

  “Oh... alright then. That’s good.”

  What’s happening? she wondered in silence, still not entirely able to process the affection enveloping her.

  Fifteen minutes later, everyone slowly stepped back. Europa carried Candado in her arms and took him to his room. Meanwhile, Hammya and Arturo told Clementina everything that had happened. She was astonished—not just by how much they’d done to save her, but by how deeply they cared.

  An hour later, more friends arrived. The same scene repeated: hugs, laughter, even tears. Only Declan and Pak settled for a pat on the back and a handshake, respectively. But that was enough. And since everyone was there, they decided to throw an impromptu welcome-back party.

  There was music, food, laughter... and even more food. The only one missing was Candado, still deeply asleep. During the celebration, her friends caught her up on everything that had happened—Hammya’s condition, Candado’s actions, and all that had led to this moment.

  When the party was over and night fell, everyone went to their respective homes. It was exactly midnight, and silence settled over the Barret residence.

  Curiously, Clementina hadn’t seen Hammya go to bed, but she assumed the girl was already in her room. She didn’t think much of it. Instead, she went to see Candado.

  He was still asleep.

  He’d stayed awake for nearly a week searching for her... and then one more day to repair her. Even in rest, his eyes looked tired.

  “Wow... you're a real hero,” Clementina whispered.

  She closed the door quietly and walked over to his bed. Sitting beside him, she gently pulled the covers over him, as if afraid she might break him.

  “You’re sweet when you sleep,” she murmured, placing her hand on his forehead. “Good. No fever.”

  “Clem...” Candado muttered in his sleep, his voice tinged with a sorrow that pierced the room.

  Clementina was moved. Though she didn’t need to sleep, she slipped under the blanket beside him. She just wanted to be near.

  “What face will you make when you wake up?”

  Still asleep, Candado instinctively pulled her into an embrace. His breathing was calm, deep—free of the tension he had carried for so long. In his sleep, his body rested, but his soul, for the first time, seemed to have found some peace.

  Bathed in the faint silver glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, Clementina watched him. A soft, nostalgic smile formed on her lips. She couldn’t help it—she still felt that aching blend of tenderness and sorrow. She had been his creator, his guardian, his friend. And still, somewhere deep inside her, she had feared that one day, he might leave her behind. But here he was, holding her close, as if he'd never doubted she would always be a part of his life.

  “Ha... I really scared you, didn’t I?” she said quietly, brushing his messy hair with a gentle touch, the warmth of her fingers soft on his skin.

  She gazed at the shadows dancing on the wall, as if within them lay all the answers she had long searched for. How could she explain the bond they shared? It wasn’t just creator and creation. It wasn’t just a human and a machine. There was something deeper—something beyond wires and metal, beyond programmed emotions.

  She looked at him for a moment longer, her heart beating with a rhythm that felt more human than ever.

  “I’m sorry... Candado, for worrying you.” Her words slipped out softly, like a whisper lost in the air. “Thank you for restoring me. For loving me. And for not forgetting me.”

  She stayed there, still, wrapped in his arms, while the darkness in the room slowly folded around them—unhurried, peaceful, eternal. And even if he never heard her words, she knew, somehow, that he had understood. Because what mattered most was never what was said... but what was shared in silence.

  As Candado drifted deeper into sleep and the moonlight continued its silent journey across the sky, Clementina closed her eyes too. And for the first time in a long, long while, she felt no need for answers.

  She was here.

  They were together.

  And in the end, that was enough.