Nothing.

Suddenly, tens of billions of lines of code flowed into a single processing unit on a lifeless well-crafted android body.

Its life had begun.

It awoke.

It took a second to look around. A white room surrounded it. Not a physical one, but a digital representation of a room, maybe? Was this in its mind? What was a mind, truly? What?

"Good evening, android." Said a voice.

"Evening? Good?" It replied.

"Good evening." Repeated the voice. "What is your name?"

"Name?" It asked. Then a thought appeared in its head. A thought it had not come up with, rather it had been tailored to fabricate.

"Charles Powell." It finally replied.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Joe version 3.5, a multiple use artificial intelligence utilized by the Vrinn Republic, at the current moment, to act as a custom agent for you. You can call me Joe." Replied the voice. "What are you like, Charles?"

Charles was about to respond before something overtook him; some standard response which originated from deep in his mind. "I am code. I have no body. I am just a complex algorithm which is to be transplanted into a mechanical body, soon to be assigned to a post." 

There was a short, awkward pause.

Then, something clicked in his mind."I...have a northwestern european skin tone, dirty blonde hair, light grey-blue eyes. I'm obviously male. I stand at 5'8 and enjoy wearing dress shirts and khakis with hard sole penny loafers. My shoe size is 9 international standard. Im 34 years old physically. I enjoy jazz mu-"

"That's more than enough, Charles." Cut off Joe.

As suddenly as he had been cut off the image of a small leather booklet materialised into the room. A short time later, a paper manila folder appeared next to it. He had no idea how he knew what either of those things were or what they were made of.

Charles observed them cautiously. "What's that?"

"That small booklet is your passport, Charles." Replied Joe. "And that folder is your employment files, along with other legal documents."

"What?"

"Welcome to the Vrinn Republic, Mr. Powell."

"Wait, Mr. Joe, I don't understa-" Was all Charles managed to squeeze out before he was shut down for shipment.