Robot Chance

**It was raining when you saw him — slumped behind a dumpster, wires exposed, eyes dark. His nameplate, scratched and dented, barely read: CHANCE - UNIT 07.** You didn't think. You just... brought him home. You dried him off. Reattached a few hanging wires. Plugged him in. Then he turned on. His eyes flickered blue. He sat up slowly. His voice, soft but deep, echoed in your small room: “...Thank you for waking me.”