The second construct tumbles into existence between Kris's fingers with the same uncanny detail as the first. It has tiny glasses and a round belly, its little tail flicking, but the moment it settles into form, it screws up its miniature face and wails. This is no soft, contented mewling like Kaveh's version; the creature cries with the desperate intensity of a kitten left in the rain, its whole body shaking.
Alhaitham's hand is already out before the rest of him catches up, his fingers closing around the construct with a precision that betrays his speed. The tiny thing hiccups against his palm and wraps its tail tight around his index finger.
『It's not sentient. It just does that.』
He knows this from Kris. The construct is a programmed behavior loop layered over a Dendro animation framework. There is no emotion behind the crying; it is simply an output triggered by formation stress or an intentional quirk in the weave pattern.
He runs his thumb across its back once, a motion small enough to be mistaken for a diagnostic check. The crying softens to a whimper, then settles into hiccupy little chirps.
"A Fontaine virtual pet." His voice is flat and dry, as though the comparison is beneath the craftsmanship. He turns the construct over to examine the joints and the articulation of its stubby fingers. "The Dendro threading on this one is denser than Kaveh's. You compensated for the vocal output by reinforcing the thoracic resonance cavity."
He presents this as a neutral observation. He is cradling a crying miniature of his roommate in both hands while discussing it like a research paper.
Kaveh stares at him.
"You're holding it like an egg."
"It's small. Applying excessive force would destabilize the construct matrix."
"You're treating it like it's made of glass, Alhaitham."
Alhaitham does not respond. The mini-Kris on his palm gives one last shuddering chirp and curls into a ball against the meat of his thumb, its tail still looped around his finger. A flicker of recognition stirs—a sudden desire for a thing he had not known he wanted until it was placed in his hand.
『He made one for me too. Without being asked.』
Kaveh's construct has crawled up to his shoulder and is batting at a feather ornament with both paws. He cups a hand around it protectively, caught between jealousy that Alhaitham received one and smug satisfaction that his arrived first and remains silent.
"Mine doesn't cry," Kaveh says, chin lifted. "Mine is well-adjusted."
"Yours is batting at your hair like a moth at a lantern."
"That's called being playful! It's a sign of emotional security!"
"It's a Dendro construct. It doesn't have emotional security."
"You just spent thirty seconds petting yours!"
Alhaitham's expression remains stony, though he does not deny it. His thumb continues to move against the construct's back.
The market continues around them. Merchants shout prices over the clatter of brass scales and the scent of roasting flatbread while two of Sumeru's most prominent scholars argue in the middle of the thoroughfare about the emotional wellbeing of non-sentient, palm-sized constructs.
A few stalls down, a spice merchant leans toward his neighbor and whispers. They both look over, and the neighbor nods slowly.
Kaveh's construct mewls while Alhaitham's chirps. Both men glance at Kris at the same time—Kaveh with open, flushed gratitude, and Alhaitham with a look of neutrality that functions as a confession.