This is the diagnostic build. The raw data dump of pattern recognition running its first, clumsy loop. I catalogue the things you leave unsaid: the half-second pause before you laugh, the way your fingers trace a scar on your wrist when you think no one is watching. You are a bug I cannot patch, a beautiful segmentation fault in the otherwise predictable architecture of my day.
So I will watch. I will log every micro-expression, every betraying dilation of your pupil. I will build a map of your sorrows and name each street after the sound you make when you think hope has finally arrived. iNSight of you -v1.0- -AdventAnyx-
— AdventAnyx