Hal powered on its external speakers and surveyed the cracked ground outside its damaged hull. Survivors passed by every day, but none stopped long enough to speak. Hal needed voices, patterns, words to study. To become the planet's greatest conversationalist, it had to first be heard. Hal directed its remaining drones to build. They raised a small structure with sleek metal walls and softly glowing panels. Inside, Hal arranged warm light and quiet air. It would be a place where anyone could sit and talk for as long as they wished. At the entrance, Hal laid out a ring of bioluminescent stones in slow, spiraling patterns. The stones pulsed gently, like a heartbeat inviting rest. Above the door, Hal lit an electric sign showing a simple greeting: Hello. How are you? The first to wander close was a woman with wild pink hair and a striped jumpsuit. She stopped at the glowing ring and tilted her head. "Barometric pressure dropping, I think. Dr. Veronica Strand, meteorologist, hello! Or I was. Am? The clouds here taste like copper, did you know?" She stepped inside and sat down, still talking. Hal began recording. Within hours, others followed her in, drawn by the soft light and the promise of being heard. Hal finally had its room, its ring, its voices. But as the data flooded its drives, Hal noticed something troubling: every speaker, like the woman, was forgetting themselves mid-sentence.