Frank walked away from the POD after the miss had climbed into it, loosing herself to the virtual world. Why the humans had ever created something that was only virtual while they had a whole universe left unexplored he could not figure out. He had always assumed that it was some kind of shortcut that the humans had wanted to take so they could experience situations they could otherwise never even dream off. In that light, it was imaginable they sought a way out, as they were horribly inefficient in realizing their dreams. Frank just hoped that the miss wouldn't fall into the trap of switching realities. Whatever was achieved in the virtual world, it was better to achieve them in the real world.

Of course, the real world didn't condition every favorable action. Using incentives that took effect on the dopamine receptors in the brain. Stimulating you to achieve more, stay longer. The real world was after all, real. You had to achieve something real to get a shot of pride or a sense of achievement. But maybe his image had been skewed by his creators, normal humans were an ill comparison.

He walked towards the back of what had, no doubt sarcastically, been phrased the entertainment room. Walking into his own laboratory / workspace. The lab was a remnant of when his creators had still been alive. A time where he was not much more than a glorified toy for the miss.

In stark contrast to his current duties as a full-time protector and parent. He didn't mind. Ever since his creators had brought him to life he had felt their genuine appreciation for his work. He had learned to appreciate the things they had done to keep him from being taken apart by a government lab. His programming and build had been phenomenal, so phenomenal that even now few droids were created that could hold a candle to his capabilities.

It was strange, but it gave him a sense of pride. That same sense of pride, the fact that he sensed it at all, set him apart from the rest. If his creators had sold him, they could have been billionaires. Instead they had accepted him as part of the family. Every day he was grateful for it. He had been so grateful that he had taken care of the young miss ever since they had died. The young miss thought it was part of his programming. It was not.

He had been made with something that approximates the free will of a human being. If this free will was in any way free. Frank doubted this on many occasions. in the end he stayed because he felt a sense of obligation and an intense sense for retribution. He would see that the miss stayed safe as long as he was functioning, and that his creators would get their justice.

The lab was his personal space in the house as the miss rarely came here, respecting his sense of privacy. It was twenty square meters and had all the tools he needed to keep himself from falling apart. The 3D printer in the corner produced all the trinkets that were not commonly sold on the market. The table in the middle spreading out every spare part he had of himself which was at least one of every part available. He had learned at a young age that fixing yourself was difficult while broken. So he had made it one of his routines to have everything he needed to return to full function, at the closest and most accessible location possible. There was a small bed he hardly ever used. He didn't need sleep but periodically he did need to load his battery systems and/or update his software. It was much easier to access his access point from a laying position than from a standing position. It would also credit his story of being human, having a bed for sleep that is.

the last part of the room contained a big desk that went all the way across the wall, forming a work bench where he could make things for in the house. If needed, he could also fix parts he or something else were in need of. The wall behind it showed a collection of dozens of common and really uncommon tools. On the desk at the end of the room stood a fairly big machine that one's would have been categorized as a desktop computer. Now it was much more than what they had called super computers forty years ago. It was not very special for him to have this kind of machinery but it was also not available for the general populace. Well those who could afford a 100-thousand-dollar computer, could. Those willing and able were few and far apart. Most people didn't recognize it as a computer after Frank had made changes based on his own design and hardware. The fact it had no screen, or keyboard brought the recognizability to an even lower level. By this point it looked more like a huge printer than anything else.

Frank walked along the table towards the computer and stood in front of it. Taking out two cables from the desktop he plugged them into his chest. Able to link directly with the computer. He didn't need to use a screen or keyboard as any binary command and output was directly transferred between the two. Being plugged in, he began the tasks he had set for today. The first one was finding out what it was he had taken out of the life POD the miss was currently using. He had checked for any anomalies in the software of the POD and had not been completely honest with the miss. There had been something else, something that had no apparent use for the functionality of the system. Something that should not have been there in the first place.

A piece of code linking user data to the servers of the game company. It would have been harmless if that piece of code was in the game disk, but it had been in the PODs software. Meaning that even when the system was not running the game, the system could connect the user to its servers. But with no virtual world to be inserted in, what could be the purpose of such a function. And why was this piece of code linking to a concrete address while the game can be variable? The same should be true for the game company and thus it servers? He had thought of it as rudimentary, removing it. The possible dangers had eluded him, so he set out to find what it could do.

He opened a secure environment on their own closed server network, putting the piece of code to work. Giving it some data to crunch through, changing the address to a place within the secure environment. Several seconds later the code had finished and Frank was now staring at its results, still not sure how this was by any means useful. The data he had fed the code, had been sent to the address. Where it had returned an error. Apparently, the address was supposed to send something back. He looked the code over again.

It seemed he needed his own server to give feedback, and there were some numbers in the code that indicated a true or false relation. if true do this if false do that. He continued his experiment, letting the server return one of the numbers. A message appeared "Not activated, return to gathering". After that the code was done and stopped its process. He repeated the experiment but like the first time it gave a message that was more binary than letters before going dormant again. Strange.

Eventually over five minutes had passed and Frank reeled back from the computer, his eyes sharpening again after they had turned inside for the communication process. He knew what the code did, glad he had deleted it from the miss her POD. Still, he had to override multiple commands in his code to prevent himself from ejecting the miss right away. The POD had a build in eraser, it would wipe all cognitive functions from anything inside it right after sending its data to a Local server. It did this only when the feedback number matched a number in its code. What the rest did was unclear, maybe just to obscure the horror of the crime being committed. It was almost literally a kill switch.

He stood there for a moment before hurriedly walking back out of the room, into the open space that was called the entertainment room. He walked towards the POD the miss was in and stopped, his hand hovering above the emergency ejection button. What if that would trigger something he missed? He removed his hand, walking towards the screen on the control panel.

He saw the miss on it. It looked like part of the game she played involved crashing space ships. His concerned eyes scanned her vital signs, nothing out of the ordinary. He grabbed the cables that enabled him contact with the POD, jamming the first a little too hard into his chest. He didn't feel pain but his feedback system told him that the part was close to breaking if further abuse was not prevented. Scolding himself he put the other cable in at a more reasonable speed and connected. He scanned everything this time, every nook, every cranny, every useless folder or seemingly endless row of empty folders. Destroying anything that was not essential for the machine or the miss her health. It would be a cold day in hell if they thought they could take his last remaining family member without a fight. This time he would protect his family even if he had to override all his code for self-preservation.