[color=a187be][center][h1]A R S E N I O[/h1][/center][/color]
[hr][hr]

Arsenio did not know either of the Institute alumni mentioned, but paid extra focus on the words 'automatons' and 'myalo'. He somehow knew that it would come to this, noting the irony of an automaton like himself having something that could only be called 'intuition'. He wondered at the possibility of just extricating himself, since the option was on the table, but he did recognize that his continued existence hinged on the mercy and whim of the Ministers. Better that he prove himself of benefit to them now than to have them question why they even keep him around at all. Perhaps, if the job was extremely successful, he could earn his continued existence and be freed of all future obligations to the city. An automaton could only dream, though Arsenio again noted the irony of an automaton dreaming.

Stepping forth, Arsenio declared himself, [color=a187be]"Cinnamon Lace!"[/color] his higher-pitched, child's voice cutting through the room. His eyes darted around quickly in an attempt to note the faces of those who might be confused why a child was in such an operation. This would reveal to him who was aware of his true nature. Taking a bow, Arsenio stepped back, plopped himself back on the chair, and resumed reading the fantasy novel that Mr. Amidale had suggested to him.