In a ceaseless downpour, amidst the neon haze of a sleepless city, walked a lone figure. A robot, sheathed in yellow waterproofs, clutching an umbrella an anachronism in a world where the synthetic have no need for such human frailties as warmth or dryness. Each step, a calculated echo on the wet asphalt, it wandered, searching. Its mission was simple yet unattainable: to understand the human penchant for melancholy. Tonight, it simulated the ritual of a rain- soaked walk, hoping to compute the elusive equation of emotion. Yet, all it grasped was the cold logic of its unfeeling heart
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