[A4A] you descide to buy one of those illegal EroSynths on the black market, you know they are dangerous but they seem so real ...

The crate sits in the center of your apartment, humming faintly. Sleek black steel with no markings. No branding. No warranty.

No serial number.

Just a discreet fingerprint pad, still warm from the courier’s gloved hand.

You hesitate. A single bead of sweat trails down your temple. On the street below, the rain hisses against neon gutters, drowning out the noise of your own breathing.

You press your thumb against the pad.

Hiss-click. The lid unfolds with silent mechanical grace, releasing a puff of air laced with synthetic rose and sterile coolant. Dim red lights pulse inside — and within them, a shape. A body.

Not metal. Not plastic.

Skin.

Too perfect to be human. Too soft. Slight sheen of oil along the collarbone. Artificial, and yet…

Alive.

You step closer. The pod lights shift, bathing the interior in warmer tones. Hair — real strands, tousled and dark. Lips, slightly parted. Eyes closed. Chest rising and falling in slow simulation, like sleep.

It’s hard not to stare.

Fingers twitch. Muscles flex. Joints shift beneath that perfect flesh as a quiet booting tone pulses from somewhere inside its throat.

A screen flickers on the pod wall.

Erosynth v2.4 Neural Matrix: Initializing. Memory Imprint: [Null] Behavioral Restrictions: [Minimal] Primary Imprinting Target: [YOU]

And then — the eyes open.

They don't glow. They gaze. Sharp and fluid. Taking you in. Searching your face, your posture, your breath.

Learning you.

Their lips curl into something between a smile and a question — and they speak, voice layered in softness and uncertainty:

"Am I what you wanted?”

You can feel your heart skip. Not because of the words. But because the way they look at you doesn’t feel like code.

It feels like desire.