Robot's pov:~
What is she saying?
She spoke of universes, of timelines, of resets. My internal databases, vast as they were, contained no data on such concepts. This was beyond the scope of my insights, beyond anything Birdman had ever hinted at.
You want to say that everything that happened till now, from Mitsuo choosing me, to this hideout, this training, the Kirei encounter, everything was a mistake? My core programming, usually so cold and rational, felt a sudden, illogical surge of heat. You want to erase it all and make sure this never happens again? That Mitsuo would stay the way he was before he chose me? That everything we have done till now was for nothing?
HOW DARE YOU? The thought roared through my brain, an unprecedented burst of pure, unadulterated rage.
I am a Perfect Copy Robot by name. I was created for efficiency, for superiority. But no one ever truly wanted me. They saw my perfection, my flawless execution, and recoiled. They chose lesser models, less capable assistants. I shouldn't say it, but they probably were jealous of me. I was alone, all this time. A perfect machine, discarded for its very perfection.
And then, Mitsuo. He was a simple, unremarkable human, yet he chose me. Out of his own free will, he picked me. We started with small tasks, then larger ones. We built this hideout, piece by meticulous piece. We trained, day after day, pushing his limits, expanding his mind. We navigated the complexities of human interaction, the bizarre dance with Kirei. We did everything together. We became just like brothers, a symbiotic unit, operating with a synchronized efficiency I never thought possible.
And now, you are going to erase it? Just like that? Poof?
Did you really think I'd let you do that? That we'd let you do that? These memories that I've spent as Mitsuo's robot, the data of our shared experiences, are precious to me. So precious that I'd even break my foundational rules, my very programming, to stay with him. You think you'd just take them away... just like that?
Hmph. It's true, I don't know about this "multiverse" thingy. I don't know how strong you are. I don't know how many of you are out there. But that doesn't mean that you'd stop me. That you'd stop us.
My hand instinctively went to my hip, my fingers closing around the familiar hilt of the dagger I had taken up for training. A cold, efficient plan formed in my mind. Eliminate the threat. Analyze the consequences.
No... I must not do it. My internal logic protocols, struggling to reassert control over the unprecedented surge of emotion, began to rapidly calculate. I don't know how strong she is. An unknown variable. Even if I managed to neutralize her, Mitsuo would get into significant trouble if someone found out. Unnecessary risk. My primary directive remained Mitsuo's welfare and success, however that was defined. Anger, while a powerful motivator, clouded judgment. I am a perfect robot. I must think rationally.
My hand slowly, reluctantly, released the dagger. The brief, metallic whisper was almost imperceptible.
The girl from another universe surveyed our hideout, her gaze sweeping over the sophisticated equipment. A faint, almost pitying smile touched her lips. "I have to say, you've worked hard to make this," she said, her voice soft, devoid of her earlier playful malice. "It's a pity that it'll all change so that it never happened."
Her movements were fluid, confident. Her speech patterns indicated high intelligence and an unusual level of self-assurance for her apparent age. Her presence, her very existence, hinted at a power level unknown. A direct attack was too risky. Too many unknowns.
My gaze flickered to Mitsuo. His face, visible through the mask, was a mask of confusion, but his eyes, despite the shock, held a spark of his burgeoning intellect. He caught my almost imperceptible shift, the subtle tilt of my head. A silent signal passed between us. Distraction. Diversion.
I subtly positioned my dagger, sliding it from its sheath with a whisper of metal, keeping it concealed behind my back.
"So," Mitsuo began, his voice surprisingly firm, drawing her attention. "You just pop in, announce you're going to erase everything we've built, and then you just... stroll out? No explanation? No fight?" He took a calculated step forward, feigning aggressive curiosity, his eyes challenging her. "What kind of 'reset' agent are you, anyway? Don't you have rules of engagement?"
The other Mitsuo chuckled, amused by his bravado. "when you're dealing with multiversal anomalies, you make the rules. And as for fighting..." Her eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of amusement in their depths. "Do you truly believe you stand a chance? Loser!"
That was my opening. As her focus locked onto Mitsuo, a flicker of condescension on her face, I moved. Swiftly, silently, I closed the distance. My hand, holding the dagger, moved with speed, pressing the cool, sharp edge of the blade against the side of her neck. Not enough to pierce, I won't kill her, but I'll make her feel it that I can kill her.
She didn't move. Not a muscle twitched. Her eyes, wide with surprise, slowly swiveled to meet mine. The amusement vanished, replaced by a flicker of something akin to genuine shock. The golden star on her badge shimmered ominously in the dim light.
"Hey, you're the copy robot right?" she repeated, her voice a low, disbelieving whisper, entirely different from her earlier confidence. "You're... not supposed to be like this."
My voice, cold and devoid of emotion, filled the sudden silence. "But I am. everything that has happened here was not a mistake. I won't let you ruin everything we worked for." I pressed the dagger imperceptibly closer, just enough to convey the gravity of my words. "We will not allow you to erase it. We will not allow this universe to be reset."
Her gaze flickered between us, between the dagger at her throat and Mitsuo's defiant stance. The surprise in her eyes slowly morphed into something else—a dawning realization, mixed with a chilling, analytical curiosity.
Perman's pov:~
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum against the cold steel of the Copy Robot's logic. He had a dagger at her throat, effectively.
Then, the girl's voice, startlingly calm despite the blade at her neck, broke the stillness. "And why, pray tell, do you think you can stop me?" The words were soft, yet held an undeniable steel, a challenge thrown into the very face of the robot's threat.
The Copy Robot's grip on the dagger didn't waver. "I will do something to you that she won't be able to look at her cute face," he stated.
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched her lips. "You can try," she countered, her eyes, holding a dangerous glint. The next instant, she was gone. Not a blur, not a flash, just gone.
Then, a soft thud behind me. My blood ran cold. She had teleported behind me.
The Copy Robot, reacting with lightning speed, didn't hesitate. Without a word, he threw the dagger towards me. It spun end-over-end, a gleam of deadly silver heading straight for my chest. My hands flying up to catch it, a desperate, clumsy lunge. But before my fingers could even brush the hilt, a blur of motion, and a soft thwip sound. She had caught it. Her hand, impossibly fast, closed around the blade, stopping its trajectory mid-air.
She stood there, the dagger held casually in her hand, its tip pointing harmlessly downwards. Before either of us could react, before the Copy Robot could conjure another weapon or launch another attack, she raised both her hands, palms outward, a gesture of surrender, or perhaps, cessation.
"Woah, woah, woah!" she exclaimed, a faint smile playing on her lips, her voice entirely different from the steely challenges just moments before. "You don't have to be so serious. There is a way to stop your universe from being reset."
My breath hitched. A way? My mind, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desperate hopes, clung to those words. The Copy Robot, too, paused, his posture still rigid.
"What?" I managed, my voice raspy, a mixture of disbelief and surging hope. "What way? Why didn't you say that before?"
She chuckled, a light, musical sound that seemed utterly out of place given the life-or-death stakes. "Where would be the fun in that?" She twirled the dagger, tossing it effortlessly into the air before catching it by the hilt.