The first thing he noticed was the music playing. A sweet, optimistic melody that enticed the young one's mind. He struggled to hold onto the sound, rather than slip into sheer silence.
Next came the light. His eyes were all blurry, and for a moment he couldn't make anything out. There was only sheer brightness, which was a little overwhelming. Thus, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before blinking, working through the brightness. Without thinking, he raised his hand over his face to block out some of the oppressive light.
"Al, did you see that!" A man had spoken, and he sounded pretty excited by his tone. "He's moving! On his own, too!"
The young one started as he felt a hand at his back, lifting him up. Another hand took his arm, gently supporting him into a sitting position. He blinked again, and this time his vision cleared up.
He now could get a good look at the man who had helped him up. He was an older man, though how old, the young one couldn't say for sure. Though he was bending over to reach the young one, it was clear he was very tall, and fairly wide as well. He had white hair that was tied into a ponytail, and a white beard to match. He also had blue eyes which were fixed intently on the young one. "Here we go," he said. "Now, let's get a good look at you."
The young one returned the look, a little confused as to what was happening. "Who...who are you? What's happening to me?"
The man looked a little surprised. "You can talk already?"
"Should I not be able to?" The young one was baffled by this question.
"I mean, you can, you do have a voice producer." The older man looked puzzled for a moment before looking over his shoulder. "Albert, did you program any questions or comments into him?"
At this point, the young one noticed another man in the room. He was tall, too, though not as tall as the first man, and a good deal leaner. He also had white hair, but was balding and what was left was wild and untamed. The young one presumed he was Albert.
"Wasn't me," Albert replied with a shrug. "Remember, Tom, this is your baby. I'm just here to make sure nothing blows up."
"Then that means...you're self aware!" The first man, Tom, looked up in delight. Standing up straight, a broad grin plastered itself across his face. "A self aware robot! Imagine that!"
"Who are you?" The young one insisted, not pleased that his question had been ignored. "Who am I?"
Tom blinked for a moment before shaking his head. "Of course, you must be so confused." He bent down again so he was eye level with the young one. "My name is Thomas Light. I'm your…" He paused for a moment. A look of delight came over him again, a gentler one, yet somehow even happier. "I suppose I'm your father."
Albert, meanwhile, let out a huff. "Really, Thomas, you're too romantic. You made that robot; you're its inventor, not its father."
"'Inventor' doesn't seem quite right when he's self aware," Tom replied.
"Suit yourself." Albert rolled his eyes and went back to tending to some computer monitors.
"Now," Tom said, turning back to the young one, "you are the first Robot Master, a hyper advanced series of robots. DLN-000."
"DLN-000," the young one repeated. "Is that my name?"
"Well, no." Tom stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I hadn't expected you to be alive and self aware, so I hadn't thought you'd need a name. Hmmm." He closed his eyes in thought, and the music was the only sound to be heard.
After a moment, he smiled. "That's it. I'll call you Blues. Blues Light."
A snort came from the direction of the computer. "A fine name you've chosen for a bot whose main color scheme is red," Albert snarked.
The young one, Blues, glanced down and noticed he was dressed in a red tee-shirt and grey pants. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that before, and he fiddled with the fabric of the shirt.
"It's for the music type," Tom replied, rolling his eyes himself this time.
"You chose that for Emily, didn't you?" Albert asked, not even bothering to look away from the computer.
"She would have loved him." Tom turned back to Blues. "So, do you want to get a look at yourself?" He held out his hand to help the little bot to his feet.
"Uh, yes." Blues took his hand and stepped off the table he had previously been lying on. His first few steps were clumsy, but Tom held on to him so he wouldn't fall. After a short distance, they made it to a mirror.
Blues wasn't sure what he was expecting. Staring back at him was what looked like an eleven-year-old boy, with fair skin and reddish-brown hair. He was a good deal shorter than Tom, though he supposed that he was average, and it was just that Tom was big. The only sign that he wasn't completely human was the faint light coming from his green eyes.
"That's me?" he asked, placing a hand on the mirror.
Tom beamed, and it appeared he was crying tears of joy. "Yes, indeed." He knelt down and put his hands on Blues' shoulders. "You have so much to learn, my son. I'll be there to help you every step of the way."
Blues smiled. "Thank you, Father."