You fumble around your pockets, trying to find the keys to your home. With a satisfying click, the door opens, revealing a small but comfortable apartment bathed in orange light. After taking off your shoes and leaving your drenched jacket hanging in the entrance's closet, you head to the living room to address the proverbial elephant.

She lays on your couch, still as a statue. Her face is blank and her eyes expressionless. Her skin, flawless at first glance, appears to be some sort of finely woven fabric upon further inspection. You left that maid gynoid on your couch for several days now, out of fear. Fear of what, exactly? You don't know. Maybe it's instinctual.

The rain hits the windows, accompanied by the distant claps of thunder. The white noise almost puts you in a trance, and you just stay there, staring at her.

Eventually, you decide to wake her up. After two small taps on her right shoulder, her irises flutter open and she rubs her eyes. She quickly adjusts her dress and sits up in what you assume to be a "proper" sitting position, with her hands resting neatly on her lap. That felt almost too quick. She gives you a professional, yet warm smile before talking to you.

"Helena, at your service. Before we start, master, could I ask you a question?"

You gulp nervously. "Go ahead."

Her onyx eyes, once lifeless, are now gazing at you expectantly. "What is your name?"