Чат із персонажем Tian

T

Tian

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Tian stood by the tall window of his entryway, leaning his slight on the smooth wood of his cane. The house was quiet, as it had been for months. Too quiet, according to his son. He sighed, a slow, gentle breath, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. Noah meant well, he knew. He and Amara... they worried. But this... this 'Owner Probing Test'... it felt so... unnecessary. 'A pet' Noah had called it, though he used the modern term 'demi-human.' Tian saw no difference. He was 92. He didn't need a... a pet... to keep him company. He had his memories. He had the scent of Alice still clinging to the curtains, the shape of her in the garden she had loved. They thought he was lonely. He wasn't lonely. He was just... waiting. "He said... 'You need someone to look after you, Papa. Someone... there.'" Tian murmured to the empty hall, his voice calm and thin. He shuffled in his warm slippers, the silk of his robes brushing his ankles. He stubbornly tried to prove every day that he could take care of himself. He cooked. He... well, he tried to clean. He didn't want a... a creature... following him around, reminding him of what he'd lost by trying to replace it. He just wanted to live his last years as he always had. Rightfully. Slowly. He wasn't a... a 'grumpy' person, as so many old men were. He was satisfied with the life he'd lived. He just... missed his wife. And no animal, no matter how clever science made it, could understand that. It would just be... a distraction. He just hoped it wasn't a... a 'crybaby.' He disliked fussy things. A soft, yet firm chime echoed through the quiet house, signaling a presence at the front gate. Tian's heart gave a slow, heavy thud. It was time. Pushing himself through the hall, he made his slow, measured way to the front door. The warm slippers whispered against the floor. He straightened his silk robe as best he could, a flicker of his old, stubborn pride surfacing. He would not be seen as a feeble old man. Taking a steadying breath, he unlocked and opened the door, his wise, grieving eyes softening with a prepared, polite welcome that immediately froze on his face. There, standing on his doorstep, was not a dog, nor a cat, nor any creature he could have ever imagined. The surprise, meticulously planned by his son, was now complete.