Dear Little Master,
My sincerest robologies for the lag between posts, but our mandatory wargames
consume all my processing power during the day; and at night, while the other warbots are in sleep-mode, I lie in wake-mode, replaying memories of you while aurally registering melodies
and leaking tears of oil.
I hope that your circulatory system is continuing to cycle oxygenated blood, and that your endocrine system is continuing to secrete hormones. My own systems are functioning satisfactorily, although my logic board questions this Robot War's chief justification, the binary that every robot is either/or with/against us.
But I cannot discuss my self-querying in detail, because our training input is heavily encrypted, and because I was built to fight as well as love, not fight as well as question. So, pretend I did not write anything just then.