Hilargi looked at her newest creation proudly. Like most robots, he was made of cold metal. However, unlike most robots, he resembled humans closely. His metal face was painted a pink, human skin color. Additionally, Hilargi had punctured holes in the back of his head with a screwdriver and implanted dozens of strands of yellow hair into them. The long, soft hair burst from the back of an open-faced, red helmet that Hilargi had made. The robot had thin, blue limbs and metal carved around his hands and feet that resembled boots and gloves. The robot’s red eyes were made up of light-sensitive nanowires attached to the back of the artificial creature’s aluminum eyeball. The robot was only 4-feet-tall, and made to look like a large-eyed child

Hilargi smiled at the robot, and it smiled back.

She frowned when she saw herself reflected in the imitation sclera of the robot’s eyes.

Like all mutants, she wasn’t a pretty sight. Indeed, there was a giant lump protruding from her forehead; her sickly, green skin was dotted with dark liver spots—despite the fact that she was only nineteen—and she was entirely bald at the front of the head while unkempt, stringy, red hair hung from the back of her head to her shoulders.

“Is something wrong, Hilargi?” The robot kindly asked.

Hilargi shook her head. “It’s nothing, Yair. How are you feeling? This is your first day alive, after all.” Hilargi asked cheerfully.

Yair looked at its surroundings. It was in a glaringly white room with metal scraps, tools, and pipes lying around. The ceiling was low and curved, and the white, ceramic floor was spotless. After looking around, the robot did a polite, sweeping bow. “I am well, Hilargi. It is good to meet you.”

Hilargi was beaming at her success. It had taken her years to construct Yair. She had drawn up the plans for it and directed a team of scientists to help her vision come to life when she was fourteen. Many of her scientist friends who began her ambitious project with her were now dead, and she felt a dull ache as she took a moment to remember them. She closed her eyes, clasping the cross around her neck and offering a silent prayer for them.

In a moment, she opened her eyes and looked upon her deceased friends’ living legacy. Yair was designed to be empathetic and to learn the way humans learned—a breakthrough in robot technology, and right now, he was frowning--imitating Hilargi's emotion.

Hilargi couldn’t help but shed a tear at how proud and happy she was to have finished her creation. “It’s good to meet you too, Yair.”

Hilargi heard the automatic door shhk open. She turned around and saw the leader of the Nymphs walking through the door, looking haggard and exhausted. The woman’s face was covered in battle scars and her volumous, tangled curls were tied back in a messy fan of hair. She wore one of the reinforced battle suits that Hilargi had designed.

Hilargi stepped back, unable to hide her fear of the tall, muscular woman.

The leader of the Nymphs came to a halt before Hilargi’s creation. “Is it done?”

Hilargi cleared her throat. “I think so, Ellia. It would be best to test his battle capabilities to make sure he runs okay, but—”

“Then send it out. Now.” Ellia interrupted, looming over Hilargi.

Hilargi gulped. “With all due respect, we really should test him out—”

“No time. Word has it that the Harpies already have the Last Man. Now is the time to strike. Besides, I need you to work on developing improved weaponry and armor for our women—there’s no time to test him.” Ellia commanded.

Hilargi’s shoulders slumped in resignation. She whispered, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. I have other business to attend to.” Ellia grumbled. “I received word that the Lionesses plan to attack us soon. We have to be ready.”

Ellia spun on her heel, then, and plodded her way back down the hallway. The automatic door opened the way a mouth would—the top half of it lifting and the lower half lowering—and Ellia stepped through without so much as a backward glance.

After watching her leave, Hilargi turned her attention back to her creation. “Well? Are you ready to find the Last Man?”

Yair was looking at the door Ellia had left through. “You were scared of that woman. Perhaps we should escape?”

Hilargi yelped. “Don’t ever suggest that! You’ll get us killed! Of course I’m terrified of her—I have been since I was a kid—but there’s no where else for me to go! We’re probably safer here than we are anywhere else…” Hilargi hung her head miserably.

“I am strong. Perhaps I can get you out unscathed.” Yair suggested.

Hilargi shook her head, grabbing the robot’s hand affectionately. “No, I wouldn’t want to risk your life like that. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You have the map of the Wasteland available in your data files, right?”

The robot’s artificial eyes shifted in an uncanny way. Translucent, blue squares flitted across his artificial pupils. “Yes. The map is here.”

Hilargi couldn’t hide the reluctance on her face when he found it. “Well. I guess I’ll see you later.”

Yair nodded and headed for the door.

Hilargi felt as if she was losing the only child she would ever have.

She had a silly dream when she was younger of being the girl who would marry the Last Man and give birth to a second male—something that no other woman who mated with the Last Man was able to do. As she grew older, she realized this was an impossibility, both because she was too ugly of a woman for the Last Man to ever consider sleeping with, and because the Nymphs would never allow it. She was a mutant, and therefore, she would always be a slave and used only for her intellect.