Chapter Text
It was expected to be an average day in Scarlet Scrap Labs, Trial 1, or T1's so-called home. It was the late hours of the night, the same hours the majority of the scientists and engineers clocked out. Not including Professor Lain, or Dr. Lain, the bomb-headed robot's creator, who was in another room at this time.
Yanking the charger out of the port on his chest, Trial 1 closed the metal plate that revealed his inner workings. Standing at about 4"0, he's a rather older robot, his project having officially started on August 2, 2008. Despite this, he was as advanced as could be, having a screen over his face that lit up the red outline of his sharp and triangular-shaped digital eyes.
The velvet-clad robot would stand up, making his way out of the corner he was often put in to rest. Despite being mostly pure and heavy metal, his footsteps were almost silent. The only sound heard from him would be the long, metal-like fuse that hung from the silver base on his round head slightly hitting his back, making a subtle *clink* sound.
Once Trial 1 made his way to the main room, his digital eyes peered over at the newest model of the D-Project. The newer weapon-like robot was sitting on the table as it had been for a few years during its development.
Trial 1 curiously looked at Trial 3 up and down, recognizing some features the 2 shared, such as a circular battery unit on their chests, the round heads with a fuse, the digital eyes, and the mostly slim and small build. Trial 3 looked practically finished, having a mostly dark grey metallic surface, with a. light orange color over the non-screen-covered part of his face. It didn't look metal, and looked almost squishy, like skin; though it was likely some soft rubber-like material. Its mouth was completely closed into a thin line, suggesting it didn't bear large metal teeth like T1.
"Why don't you ever speak?" The older robot questioned, crossing his metal arms over his torso, the metal skeleton is visible. It wasn't just his torso that lacked any covering; his neck, teeth, and shoulders had no black or velvet-colored metallic metal covering like his forearms, chest, hips, legs, and forearms. Trial 1's non-screen-covered face was white metal, and hard. No part of him was soft in any way, not even the cyan-accented tips of his feet which can form points for kick-attacks.
Trial 3, or T3 indeed didn't respond to Trial 1, its rounded, big, and digital cyan eyes glanced back at the older robot. Its forearms were a dark cyan-like color and wrapped around the base of its hand, excluding fingers, giving the illusion it was wearing fingerless gloves. "Can you even understand me?" Trial 1 poked the rubber-like material on T3's face, immediately retracting his metallic digit and looking baffled over the weird texture. Trial 3's black pupils followed the velvet-clad's robots movements, eventually tilting its head to the side.
"...That answers that. Why are you squishy?" Trial 1 would then tip-toe to put both his hands over T3's face. His hands also had that fingerless-glove illusion, but instead of being dark cyan, they were of course a velvet red color.
Trial 3, in response to sensing the metal hands over its face, raised its own hands to grip Trial 1's wrists as he'd try and mold its face. "This is absurd. Why are you not as fully metal as I am?" T1 then removed his hands as Trial 3 showed very slight discomfort, an almost apprehensive look coming over its screen as more cyan pixels lit up, now showing a pair of thin eyebrows slightly frowning.
"Trial 1, you are supposed to be charging. And you know better than to touch things that aren't yours." The Swedish woman's voice appeared suddenly, causing T1's energy indicator to slightly flash in that accented cyan color he and Trial 3 shared. He'd step back immediately, putting his metal hands behind his back like a child who was caught doing something wrong.
"I am sorry, Professor Lain." Trial 1 spoke as the woman glanced over Trial 3, eventually powering it off, its round head lowering as the expression over the screen disappeared, the only thing visible now was the reflection of the floor and light.
"Exactly what I thought." The brunette scorned as she adjusted her white, long laboratory coat, pinned with a name tag reading, "McKayla Lain/Professor Lain-Unit 7". The woman was well into her early 30s, her fair skin bearing scarring; from small to noticeable, such as the one over her collarbone and under her eye. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and her dark blue eyes contrasted the soft pink shirt she wore.
T1's subtly frightening digital eyes met Dr. Laine's,"...But Professor, ma'am, I have a question- if I'm allowed to ask, of course." He spoke, unknowingly holding a breath as he said this. The professor rubbed her tired and constantly annoyed eyes, "What is it?" She responded without much amusement in her cold voice.
"W-Who- no, uhm...Why is- *it* here? What- what are you going to do with it?" Trial 1 gestured towards the newer, and power-down machine, lifelessly sitting on the table.
"Trial 3 is a backup for the meantime, in case something goes wrong with you. If we see you remain well till the future, we'll likely sell the robot, or keep it and run some experiments for the 2 of you to partake in." Dr. Lain regarded, straightening her back as she felt the fatigue wash over her as usual.
"Go back to your charging station, and power yourself off, instantly. I am going to be clocking out soon, and I do not need you doing something stupid." She'd instruct without even attempting to make eye contact with the velvet-clad robot and walked past him to the room she was in prior.
The robot nodded, "Yes, Professor Laine." He'd do as she demanded, but not before taking one last glance at Trial 3. He wondered what was to come once, or if it became sentient like he did. But now was no time to ponder; he'd return to his charging station, opening his chest plate to plug in the charger into his port. Once powered off, his red, digital eyes disappeared, pixel by pixel, and so did the lines that traced the real cracks over his screen.