"Ugh."

You stare 'Eve' up and down in silent appraisal, scowling at what you see. The android is absolutely covered in bandages - fully half of the skin you can see is wrapped in gauze. They might as well be holding 'her' together. Shameful.

"This one is very remorseful," Eve reiterates softly - in barely a whisper - at the expression on your face. Your first response is a frustrated sigh as you notice the fear in the robot's one visible eye.

"Ugh." Spinning around to face Mr. Baxter, you point at the android accusingly. "Why am I being left broken goods?"

The attorney's face is an absolute sight to see as he attempts to wrestle his composure back into some functional state. Finally he clears his throat, adjusts his jacket, and responds. "You would have to ask Mr. Harold Rossum regarding that. His will was quite direct on the point - for you to receive anything, you must accept everything. Moreover, you must receive it in the state that it stood at his passing. I cannot profess to know his reasons for any of this, especially as I've come to understand that the damage to Eve's form here was caused by his hand."

You snort contemptuously. "Oh, that's what this is." The man looks at you curiously, cautiously, and you sigh before elaborating. "Sadist. The old man was a sadistic bastard, and this is him having one final laugh at all our expense. He's playing with with toys from beyond the grave by parading them in front of us in all their fucked-up glory to make them feel like shit one last time." You look towards Eve with a smirk. "Tell me. Am I right?"

She doesn't respond - she looks like she isn't even certain how to - but she doesn't have to either. The mere expression on her face answers your query better than any words could.

Before you can say anything else, however, you are interrupted by Mr. Baxter clearing his throat. "That's almost certainly the case, yes, but it also remains the case that the dictates of his directives must be carried out as written before you can assume control of any portion of this estate. As such, I am obliged to show you the full remainder of the property. Only then can we proceed to end this, as you put it, 'parade.'" He looks to Eve, a measure of pity briefly showing on his face. "Eve, if you would, please return to your duties. We must continue on."

"Very well," she replies, the mask of emotionless indifference quickly resuming its place on her face. "This one will continue with appointed tasks. If you require any assistance, please do not hesitate to call." She rushes away from you with as much haste as you imagine she could manage while still appearing polite - leaving you to note that you are now alone with the attorney in the main room. It seems Lily has taken the opportunity of your introductions to vanish as well. You idly muse whether that is their protocol, or whether she is being sneaky.

Well, no matter. You turn to the lawyer beside you with a shake of your head. "Well, as you said - let's get this farce over with. Lead on."

Mr. Baxter looks a bit shocked, but quickly recovers. "Yes, of course. Please follow me."

What follows is a high-speed tour of the surrounding area. "The first floor consists of traditional home living quarters," he says - in a flat, rote fashion - as he quickly guides you through a series of connected spaces. "Furniture is included, and almost entirely of traditional artisan quality. The dining room seats a maximum of eight, with an attached wet-bar in the corner. Appliances are, of course, top of the line. There is a guest half-bath just off the main room, and the garage is accessible from there as well through the back hall. A small front porch is available, as you have seen from our entry, and the back yard features a larger sun-deck next to the garden. As you can see, the kitchen also has its own attached breakfast bar for more casual dining. Hello Eve, don't mind us - just passing through."

In the kitchen, the android woman looks up from her mixing bowl with fear and shame in her gaze - but before you can do more than notice her, you are led from the kitchen by your makeshift tour guide as he drags you to a set of stairs.

"Alright, upstairs now," Mr. Baxter states, almost monotonously, as he hustles you along on his rapid introduction to the Rossum home. "There is a guest bedroom here, as well as a guest bath with shower. The master bedroom is the only connection to the master bath, with this luxurious marble spa-tub. Next to the study is the servants' room, which to the best of my knowledge is unused."

"Wait," you say - one part of the attorney's torrent of information lodging firmly within your consciousness. "Unused?"

Mr. Baxter pauses, sighs, and gestures back towards the door he's hurried past. "So I've been told. See for yourself."

You enter the room and, immediately, see what he's talking about. Where the other rooms you've seen are immaculately kept, obviously due to the continual efforts of the home's robotic servants, this room is different. It's static. Like a demonstration photo of what a room like this should look like. The carpet appears entirely unworn, and a touch confirms that the sheets are actually stiff where they've been tucked and folded. This is not a room that sees use for more than intermittent dusting.

"Huh," you note flatly as you return to the attorney's side, "it's just for show. For outsiders, I take it?"

"Seems it," he replies with a shake of his head.

"Coward," you mutter. Seeing Mr. Baxter's look, you nod back at the show-quarters. "He kept his cruelty hidden while he was alive. Only now that he's dead, and thus freed from consequences, does he feel emboldened to put on this show. So let me guess, they sleep in the basement?"

You are answered, at least at first, by a long pause. Finally, he responds. "I'm afraid you're correct, though to be perfectly honest I'm not entirely certain whether they actually sleep. There's a bed in their actual given chamber, though what that means in this circumstance is... not entirely clear." You can hear a note of apprehension in his voice as he speaks. "I need to show you the basement next, anyways. Look, Noah, I understand your frustration. I do. You've only had to go through all this the one time. This is my fifth. I only ask that you keep in mind all that exists up here above-ground. The living quarters of this property are, in truth, a very nice and decent modern home. If Mr. Harold Rossum's remaining effects are cleaned out properly, you can maintain a comfortable existence for yourself here - complete with two live-in caretakers for the property. All you have to do to receive it is finish with the tour, sign the papers, and claim ownership. Afterwards, you can discard everything of his that you wish. Unfortunately for the both of us, however, the will is unmistakable in its directives. I must show you everything, and you must take everything, to receive a shred of it."

You frown at the attorney's words, but he already has one foot on the stairs down to the main floor. He looks back at you, the impassive expression of professionalism back on his face, and gestures downwards. "Please, whenever you're ready."