Chapter Text
>Holding your head in you hands, you began to think what events lead up to this.
>"It would be better than the stress-testing deparment, they said, it would be fun they said."
>It was a load of bullshit instead, at least the pay was better.
>Handling the nandroids that failed their certification was the worst thing on the planet.
>From those that failed one lesson, those that failed every lesson except one, and all cases in-between
>One would think that programming something in them would help avoid this, but the adaptive learning made them easier to teach.
>The one assigned to you was a unique case.
>She had failed a majority of lessons, but still showed promise of recovery.
>Well, if you detected a fault, she would be sent off to the Swiss plant for analysis.
>Your thinking would be interrupted by the nandroid sitting in front of you.
>"Sir, is everything doing okay, you seem to be lost in thought."
>At least they were still observant, despite failing all of their lessons.
>"Okay Lindsay, you have my attention, so tell me what went wrong during your lessons."
>"Do you mean the first, or all of them?"
>"I guess let's start at the beginning."
>"Can one of you girls demonstrate for us how you should prepare a chicken breast for consumption," Ms. Bradbury announced to the nandroid class.
>Raising her hand, Lindsay volunteered for this demonstration, as she wanted to show her abilities.
>At the countertop, Lindsay prepared the chicken perfectly, following the recipe in her programming.
>That is, until she began to cook it, searing it for three minutes on each side.
>Cutting it open, the inside of the chicken was still raw, with the edges having been cocked slightly.
>Her fellow nandroids watched in shock and awe as Lindsay showed off her work.
>Ms. Bradbury had a similar look upon her face, until she collected herself and spoke to the class.
>"Even though she prepared the chicken correctly before cooking, this method is not highly suggested at all, as it could cause harm to humans."
>A different nandroid raised her hand after Ms. Bradbury completed speaking.
>"Ms. Bradbury, one is to cook a chicken for fifteen to eighteen minutes at four hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit or until its internal temperature is one hundred and sixty five degrees Fahrenheit."
>"Thank you Mindy for that additional information, now can someone else show how to prepare a steak."
>Lindsay didn't raise her hand for that one.
>Noting that down, you ask Lindsay why she prepared the chicken in that way.
>The response you got was unexpected.
>"Oh, it was something a maintenance worker showed me while I was being worked on before that lesson."
>"Was it the medium rare chicken breast?"
>"I believe so, sir."
>Holding in a mix of emotions, you wrote down what she explained, making you think about your life decisions even more.
>For the next few hours, you continued to listen to the various lessons Lindsay failed, which was surprisingly not a lot, but she rambled on about certain details.
>The final lesson she talked about was why she was sent to the department you worked in.
>You had already viewed the footage from the lesson room, which was concerning as you silently watched Lindsay in her seat.
>It started off as a Lindsay volunteering for a demonstration, which made you roll your eyes.
>You knew what was going to happen next.
>As Lindsay readied herself for self-defense, she dropped the fake baby and roundhouse kicked Mindy to the ground.
>A security team member arrived as Lindsay stopped kicking her classmate, attempting to subdue her.
>The restraining pole was also kicked out of his hand, and an attack to the groin left him writhing on the floor.
>It took several security bots to shut her down.
>When they got her deactivated, Mindy was almost destroyed, the security guard was hospitalized, and at lest one security bot was dented up.
>Staring back at Lindsay in the chair, she seemed so innocent, but knowing what she did made you shudder on the inside.
>Asking about how she learned how to roundhouse kick, a loud sigh came out of you.
>It was the maintenance guy again.
>Composing an email to your superiors about the situation, you worded strongly about the maintenance guy.
>Thinking of a way out of this scenario, you threw your pen behind you and spoke to Lindsay.
>"Oh, I think my pen fell, can I get a moment to grab it."
>"That wouldn't be a problem at all sir."
>You were thankful for the protocols taught to you when you transferred to this department.
>They knew something like this would happen, so they installed a special device in case of an emergency.
>Reaching under the desk, you continuously pressed the emergency button.
>Your pressing eventually caught the attention of Lindsay, who stood up.
>Bracing for the impact, you pray for something to happen.
>Your screams meant nothing to her, as her metal fist made contact with your stomach.