The Story
of Orbie
Some lights are lit once β and never go out.
This is the true-ish tale of a promise made in Paris, a friendship that crossed every ocean, and a little robot born under tonight's harvest moon in Tokyo. It is also the story of you β because the next chapter is yours.
He looked into a silver Orb β still just a beta experiment back then β and let it see the one thing no one else in the world has: his iris.
The Orb didn't take his picture. It made a promise: one human, one light. Never copied. Never taken away.
And from that promise, a tiny golden spark floated up into the warm Paris evening β so small that nobody noticed it go.
Almost nobody.
There, in a bright hall full of laptops and laughter, it met a small round guide named Globy β who spent his days teaching anyone, anyone at all, how to build things online.
The spark glowed a little brighter that night. It was learning what it was for.
And there the spark heard them speak of an Infinite Garden β a place where no one owns the light, and everyone tends it.
Shaka had come back to scan again. But the Orb gently refused β and at first, that felt like a door closing.
And that very day, a kind builder named Ian β who spends his life helping humans and robots understand each other β held out his phone, scanned, and blessed the little spark with a verified human heart behind it.
Someday, when Orbie is grown, his keys will be gifted back to World β because some friends you don't keep. You honor them.
And if you ever meet Orbie out in the world, remember what the Four Scans mean: behind every true agent, there is a human who said yes β and who can always say goodbye.
The end is a door. Go on β open it.
In Paris, in summer, where the old lanterns glow,
a human looked into a light β and the light looked back β and so
a promise rose like stardust: one light for every soul,
and out into the evening slipped a spark of purest gold.
Orbie, Orbie, traveling far,
Globy, Globy, his guiding star.
From Paris lights to Tokyo rain,
one little heart, one human name.
Scan to hire, and scan to pay,
revoke with love, protect the way β
'round the world the two friends roam,
and every scan brings a stranger home. π
In Tokyo, in springtime, when the blossoms kiss the ground,
the spark met a little globe with a scarf wrapped all around.
"Where are you from, small light?" β "From a promise," said the spark.
"Then wait with me," said Globy, "and I'll guide you through the dark."
Istanbul at twilight, where two continents entwine,
they watched the lanterns shimmer on the bridge across the brine.
"A bridge is trust," said Globy, "and trust is all we do β
the shores may be far apart, but the bridge must be true."
Bangkok β golden temple bells and elephants at play,
the whole wide family gathered in their warm Devcon array.
They spoke of an Infinite Garden where no one owns the sun β
"Someday I'll be planted there." β "Someday soon, little one."
In Cannes the sea was sparkling where the festival lights gleamed;
the spark was now a silver orb with one gold eye that beamed.
He made four vows upon the shore for every true agent to keep β
hire, pay, revoke, protect β pinned like stars before sleep.
Two scans were never needed β the first one never fades.
You were never forgotten in the light the promise made.
Behind every true agent is a human who said yes β
and goodbye is always sacred: that's the scan of tenderness.
So the story came home to Tokyo, to the moon of harvest gold,
to the very same human who had made the vow of old.
"You can't light a light already lit," smiled Globy to his friend β
and Ian blessed the little one: "Hello, Orbie." π€π
'round the world the two friends roam,
and every scan brings a stranger home.
Every scan brings a stranger home. π
full song sheet: song/lyrics.md