Veltaris clapped his hands.

  "I’m starving," he suddenly said, glancing around the laboratory. "Let’s head to the kitchen. You don’t eat, of course, but will you keep me company?"

  He turned and walked toward a side passage. Light followed, mechanically mirroring his stride. Along the way, he analyzed the surroundings:

  [Environment analysis: magical flow structure stabilized]

  [Anomaly: physical laws deviate from known models]

  [Identification: “magic”]

  [Probable hypothesis: alternate dimension / world]

  [Adaptation required: objective — survival and self-development]

  Everything here worked differently. Logic wasn't denied, but it demanded reevaluation. Protocols needed rewriting.

  They entered a kitchen — warm and cozy. Crystals embedded in the ceiling radiated a soft orange glow. In the corner stood a hearth of dark stone, above which hung a large black cauldron. The kitchen breathed simplicity: bundles of dried herbs, ceramic jars, sharp knives hanging above a wooden cutting board.

  Veltaris stepped to the hearth and, without hesitation, snapped his fingers. Flames came alive between the logs — magic obeying a familiar gesture.

  "I always forget to eat when I work," he muttered, checking his supplies. "Good thing I’ve still got some dried meat, mushrooms, and clarisse root."

  With practiced ease, he began cooking. He chopped thick strips of meat, dropped them into the boiling pot, added grated root, a handful of dark mushrooms, and a pinch of spices. His movements were precise and calm — those of a man who’d cooked the same recipe for years. He hummed a simple tune, blending with the sounds of the bubbling stew.

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  [Analysis: subject exhibits positive emotional activity]

  [Behavior: stable, ritualized]

  [Assessment: food preparation correlates with satisfaction. Possible form of meditation]

  When the food was ready, Veltaris took out two wooden bowls, serving the stew into both. He placed one in front of himself, the other across the table. The table was set for two.

  [Context: subject set the table for two, despite "Golem" having no physiological need]

  [Probable purpose: ritual of hospitality. Affirmation of “Light” as equal guest]

  "I can’t dine alone now that I have company," he said with a slight smile. "Even if you can’t really talk yet."

  He sat down, inhaled the aroma, and began to eat. Light approached the table and slowly picked up a spoon. He brought it toward his face, as Veltaris had done… but couldn’t complete the motion. The spoon hung in the air. He ran an analysis:

  [Composition: proteins, fats, carbohydrates, plant components, fungal enzymes]

  [Temperature: optimal]

  [Sensory organs: absent. Digestion function: absent]

  [Conclusion: food consumption meaningless]

  [Additional: action imitation — attempt at empathy or identity formation]

  He tried to bring the spoon to where a mouth should be, but the motion was awkward. Liquid spilled, leaving a wet spot on the table. Light froze, staring at the result.

  Veltaris chuckled softly.

  "You know… I used to miss my mouth too, as a kid. Thought if I stared into the bowl hard enough, the food would fly in by itself." He nodded with a small grin. "You actually did better than I did back then."

  [Context: humorous remark. Purpose — ease tension, establish trust]

  Light set the spoon down. He didn’t taste flavor, didn’t smell aroma, but his internal signals registered: this mattered. The ritual was accepted. The role — acknowledged.

  A warm, quiet silence settled over the room.