"i wish you would write a fic where..." prompt: metal in for repairs. what got it there, what does it think of eggman's treatment of it, and how does it feel about having presumably failed the mission it was on? (angst?? eggman being a good dad??? up to you!!)
Summary: Metal Sonic receives some repairs, and some advice.
1086 words
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“Up.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik tapped the diagnostic table as he passed it on his way to gather his tools.
Metal Sonic commanded its leg to move. Its actuators grinded in response, offering one short burst of movement before stuttering. Its left leg scraped as it dragged on the ground behind it. Before it could complete the walk cycle, something snapped, and its left hip joint went limp. An attempt to balance on the remaining leg failed. An attempt to spin up its turbine to prevent collision with the floor sent a flood of error messages tumbling to the front of its processor.
The impact darkened its visual sensors for three seconds. It used this time to dismiss the error messages. Upon regaining sight, it extended its hands across the floor ahead of it, dug its claws into the surface, and pulled. The effort of overcoming the force of friction caused its entire frame to shake.
It grabbed onto the nearest leg of the diagnostic table. The table was manufactured out of a smooth metal, and its structure contained no additional outcroppings that could be utilized as handholds. Perhaps if it could raise its torso against the leg so it could grab the surface edge-
“Metal, that’s enough.”
Metal Sonic looked up to see its creator standing over it. He set his retrieved toolbox onto the diagnostic table, before he came around and knelt down beside it.
He placed a hand on its forehead. It had enough tactile sensors left in the region to register that much.
“You really are perfect, aren’t you? Perfectly obedient. Hellishly determined, if I do say so myself.” He gave a small pat. “Today’s outcome wasn’t for a lack of effort, now was it?”
It found its vocalizer damaged but still responsive. It queued a negative ping, only for the noise to come out too garbled to communicate the intended meaning.
“Quiet, my boy. It’s alright.”
Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s tone was. . . unusual. As was the phrase he used. Metal Sonic searched its memory banks and found no matches for either.
“Stay here. Don’t move, I’ll be back.”
The door closed behind him. When it opened again, joining his footsteps was the plodding of an Egg Pawn.
“Lift him up to the diagnostic table and lay him on his back, gently.” He hissed to it.
The Egg Pawn slid its hand beneath Metal Sonic’s frame and carried it from the ground. The Pawn laid it down on its front, before rolling it over.
“I said gently, you fool!” Dr. Ivo Robotnik slapped the Pawn's arm, kicked its shin, and pushed it away. He then shooed it out of the room with a gesture.
He walked beside the table and began positioning Metal Sonic’s limbs to where he desired. He then opened his toolbox and began repair work. The first thing he attended to was its processor; he disappeared from visual range, and unscrewed its quill plating and its interior head paneling to reveal the delicate parts beneath. Here, Metal Sonic lost any register of tactile sensation. Dr. Ivo Robotnik existed by the suggestion of its audial sensors alone.
“Hmm. . . only minor damage here, few snapped wires around optical processing. . .”
Its visual sensors brightened with increased resolution. Strange, it hadn’t noticed the handicap prior. Dr. Ivo Robotnik then replaced the plating he’d removed and reconnected its tactile sensors. He then tilted its head sideways and opened the access port at the nape of its neck.
“Generate your post-action report while I work on the rest of you.” He said as he plugged in the data cable.
Metal Sonic obeyed, and soon its internal processings scrolled up the nearby computer screen. Dr. Ivo Robotnik chose to repair its left leg first, allowing him to face the screen as well. It began the report with the simplest of data. Its speed had matched and at one point exceeded Sonic’s. Its body had been stronger and more durable. Its agility and processing speed had been superior.
Yet it had suffered a near-complete chassis loss.
Yet Sonic had stolen the chaos emerald away.
It had failed, completely and utterly. It launched into a rapid-fire analysis of every frame of data it collected during the battle, attempting to sort out the reason for this outcome, only to find no pattern. It was illogical that it had failed. Its every attribute was superior. It should not have failed!
“Oh, quit moping.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik muttered.
Metal Sonic ceased its analysis.
“Sonic, the irritating little rodent, tends to defy all logic with his little escapades, so move on. Continue with your report.”
That was impossible. Sonic was as much an object bound by the laws of physics as everything else was. His and its attributes were objective, quantifiable, and therefore logic could be applied-
“Believe me when I say I understand. Check the records- I’ve been in this situation countless times before.”
Dr. Ivo Robotnik always spoke the objective and rational truth, but supplementing his statement with a quick scan of its memory banks allowed it to better grasp the concept. Indeed, its creator had been defeated by Sonic before, despite having superior technology and intelligence.
“Precisely. That’s why I say ‘there’s always next time’. Persistence and determination is my motto!” Dr. Ivo Robotnik pointed a finger into the air. “You’ll get Sonic one of these days. I have utmost confidence in your ability to do so.”
Every statement made by Dr. Ivo Robotnik was true, yet if his prior statement was also true, how could it defeat Sonic if superior attributes alone were not enough?
“Simple! You’re my technology. And my technology always triumphs. Am I clear?”
Metal Sonic gave an affirmative ping, only for its vocalizer to short out.
“Process it. Show me you understand.”
Yes, Metal Sonic affirmed. It was superior. It would triumph because of the brilliance of the man who created it.
“Good.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik paused his work to remove the data cable from its access port. The computer screen went dark. “Now, perform a quick debug, then enter standby mode until I wake you.”
Its attention turned onto itself as it began marking files within its processor for review. It flagged one potential issue with its audial sensors. It then initiated its power-down process, shutting off its cameras and spooling down its subroutines.
Before the process completed, it felt Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s hand on its forehead again. It recorded four words.
“Rest well, my boy.”
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