“You didn’t tell me it would just pop out of thin air!”

  “To be fair, I didn’t know that would happen either.”

  “Are those wires? Oh, the glasses are LED screens. It’s like something from a sci-fi novel.”

  Spontaneously coming into existence was a weird experience. One moment, there’s nothing, and suddenly there are two voices in your head talking about things you understand without knowing why you understand them. The voices felt strangely familiar. Comforting, perhaps. One of them was monotone while the other sounded like a very avant-garde text-to-speech program, whatever that was.

  Huh. There sure was a lot of useless information in that status. At least he knew his name now. Even though he couldn’t see, or move, or do anything at all. He did know his name was Wiseman. He had a feeling that it was an unimaginative mash-up of his parents’ names. Still, it could have been worse. He didn’t know how he would look them in the eyes if they named him Savman.

  “Why isn’t it… he, doing anything?”

  “Give him some time. He was just born.”

  In the next moment, Wiseman sat up in an instant, having finally figured out how a nervous system worked. His glasses, which were actually his eyes, flickered to life and emitted a faint white glow as he observed the situation. In front of him were two men, probably the ones who were speaking earlier. He recognized them as his parents, or whatever they were. Creators, maybe?

  One of them looked perfectly normal, clean-cut hair, square glasses, and a slightly too rigid posture. The other one was much stranger. He was there, but also not there. He looked like a translucent hologram. Calling it a he was maybe a bit too generous. It was an old monitor with metallic spider legs, sporting a golden eye in the center. He knew he should have found it unpleasant, but there was something comforting about it.

  “I think he can see me,” The monitor, Savant, waved one of his many metallic legs in front of Wiseman’s eyes. “Oh yes, he can totally see me.” Wiseman watched as the mechanical creature morphed into something more human. It wasn’t a perfect recreation of a human man, but it was close enough.

  “See you? Like the text? I thought you projected the text on my retinas.” The other man, Norman, tapped his foot in contemplation as he studied his creation… son… thing. It sure was unpleasant to be talked about without being able to respond.

  “No, he can totally see me. Actual me. More than the text you can see.” Savant waved his now-human arm around, his grin getting wider whenever Wiseman followed the motions with his head. “I think it has something to do with being half of me. I can give him a status, too. I think he might be vaguely connected to the collective consciousness of my species.”

  “Interesting.”

  Twenty minutes or so later, Wiseman felt confident enough with his body to stand up straight. He slowly rose to his feet, he was taller than the both of them, and very slender. His skin was pale, too pale, and had an artificial texture to it. His hair reached down to his waist, pitch black and pin-straight. His eyes, well, he had none. The thick, round glasses that covered where his eyes would be was what he used to see.

  For the most part, Wiseman could pass off as a human if he hid the wires sticking out from the back of his neck. He could move them around like an extra set of limbs or tuck them away in his hair. Oh, he would probably have to keep his mouth closed, too. Humans didn’t usually have razor-sharp teeth.

  “We should probably find you some clothes.” Norman clapped his hands together, not the slightest bit unsettled by the artificial human he had created. If anything, he was stoked. Wiseman looked like just the type of person who would enjoy alchemy. If he didn’t, well, there were a lot of other things to do.

  Wiseman followed silently behind, taking in the surroundings as they walked. Walking around was such a strange experience for him. He recognized everything, but only vaguely. It was like walking through a place you had seen in a dream. Everything was so dark, only illuminated by the moon and his ever-present LED screens. He couldn’t help but wonder how his human father navigated so well in the dark.

  “Here you are. They are Rowboat’s old clothes. They’re too big for you, but nothing is open this late.” Norman explained as he handed him an oversized shirt from the laundry basket. It looked like a nightgown on his slim frame, but all the other clothes in the home were far too small for him.

  “Mmmmthaaaeeehhh…” Wiseman made a strange artificial noise that was meant to be words of thanks. He had tried using human vocal cords to speak, something he apparently didn’t have. Having two sets of memories for how to navigate a body was so confusing. “Thank you, Father.” His voice sounded like Savant’s, but somewhat more human. It was like a person speaking through a voice changer.

  “Oh! You speak. I should have expected that.” Norman didn’t so much as bat an eye at being called father; he was used to it at this point. Besides, this was technically his only biological child. Strange as that may be. “It’s late. We’ll fix you up a room tomorrow, but sleep in my bedroom tonight. Do you sleep?”

  “I think so.” He had no idea, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. If he couldn’t, well, then he’d just have to stay up with his other father. Calling them both father would be confusing, wouldn’t it? Father and Dad, it was. If he was unable to sleep, then he’d just stay up with his dad. The same dad that he could vaguely hear talking to someone in another dimension about the power of soulmates and making the impossible possible.

  “Goodnight, Wiseman.” Norman said as he tucked himself into bed, not wanting to think about the implications of being able to create life from nothing and how he would explain it to the others.

  “Goodnight, father.”