Chapter Text
In the laboratory, the hum of machinery filled the air as Eggman worked diligently on his latest project — a new prototype robot resting squarely on the workbench. Tools were scattered about, and the glow of monitors cast a warm light across the room as he carefully tinkered away, his brow furrowed in focused concentration.
Metal and Orbot watched his progress closely, hovering nearby as he worked. Metal stood tall and still, his crimson eyes scanning the prototype with quiet curiosity, while little Orbot bounced eagerly on his heels, craning his neck to get a better look.
Metal grew visibly annoyed with his little brother, Orbot, who kept nudging up against him, so he gave Orbot a light, dismissive pat on the head — as if shooing away a persistent little bird.
"No, I want to be with you!" Orbot toddled after his oldest brother, arms outstretched, but Metal simply walked away toward the doorway without so much as a backward glance.
Orbot stopped in his tracks, his bottom lip trembling. Then, with a dramatic stomp of both feet, he burst into loud, echoing tears. The noise traveled down the hall, pulling Eggman away from his work. He stepped out from behind the workbench and gently scooped Orbot up into his arms, patting his back softly.
"Come, let me show you our new prototype," Eggman said warmly, cradling Orbot against his chest as he carried him back to the workbench.
Eggman resumed carefully installing the engine into the new prototype, one hand steadying Orbot on his hip, when suddenly the monitor flickered on — displaying two unfamiliar figures on the screen. A soft whirring sound filled the room as the newly activated prototype stirred, its sensors slowly coming online. Its gaze drifted toward the two figures on the screen, locking on with a timid, curious expression, as though seeing the world for the very first time.
"What name do you want to give him?" Eggman asked Orbot, glancing down at his son with a warm smile.
Orbot's tears had already dried, replaced by wide, sparkling eyes as he studied the little robot intently.
"Hmm…" he murmured thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "I like the name Cubot — but I want his nickname to be Cubert!" Orbot said cheerfully, looking up at his father with bright, hopeful eyes.
"Alright then, Cubot it is!" Eggman agreed with a hearty chuckle. "And what do you think of having a second little brother?" he asked, smiling warmly down at Orbot.
Orbot's face lit up instantly. "I want to hold him!"
Eggman gently set Orbot on the workbench so he could get a closer look. Cubot stirred timidly, glancing up at them both with wide, curious eyes — blinking slowly, as if still making sense of the world around him.
Eggman carefully scooped Cubot into his arms, cradling his newest son with a warm, proud smile, holding him close to his chest.
"Don't worry," Eggman told Orbot reassuringly, reaching out to gently squeeze his older son's hand. "We'll all help take care of Cubot together."
Cubot gazed up at his father with those wide, wondering eyes and clapped his tiny hands together with delight, letting out a small, cheerful chirp.
Eggman settled comfortably onto the sofa, Cubot nestled in his lap, and began rummaging through a stack of old formulas tucked beside the cushions until he found just the right one. He carefully prepared a small bottle of oil — the precise blend suited for a newborn bot — and began feeding little Cubot, who drank eagerly, his tiny fingers curled around the bottle. When Cubot began to slow and eventually stopped,
Eggman gently held him upright against his shoulder and rubbed his back in slow, patient circles until a small burp escaped — followed by a surprised little blink from Cubot himself.
Eggman laughed warmly at his silly little son, then carefully set Cubot down on the floor, where Cubot began crawling about and exploring curiously, his wide eyes scanning everything around him with wonder.
"Why did you start hovering in the air?" Orbot asked, tilting his head curiously at his father, watching as
Cubot puttered across the floor on all fours.
"Ha! When you are newly born, you start like any basic baby — crawling before you can walk," Eggman explained, gesturing broadly with a grin. "It is simply how it goes! Now then, let's play! Cubot wants to have some fun!"
Cubot continued crawling happily along the floor, exploring every corner with boundless curiosity, until his gaze landed on the sofa. Determined, he made his way over and attempted to pull himself up by grabbing onto the cushioned side — but his little arms trembled and gave out, and he tumbled down with a soft thud against the floor. Eggman rushed over to catch his son, but he was just a moment too late. There was a brief, stunned silence — and then Cubot burst into loud, pitiful wailing, tears streaming freely down his square little face.
"Oh, oh — it's alright!" Eggman quickly scooped Cubot up into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly and pressing him gently to his chest, swaying slightly as he waited patiently for his son to calm down. Cubot's cries gradually softened into hiccupping little sniffles.
"It's alright, my son — Cubot just took a little tumble, but he did so well trying!" Eggman reassured Orbot, who had come toddling over with wide, worried eyes, continuing to rub Cubot's back gently until the little robot's breathing evened out.
Then Eggman felt it — something warm and damp spreading across his lap. "Oh no… something's wet!"
he murmured, glancing down with wide eyes. He shifted Cubot carefully and peered inside the panel of his bottom shell, confirming his suspicion with a patient sigh. "Alright then, little one. Let's get you sorted out."
Eggman gently laid Cubot down on the sofa, keeping his voice low and soothing. Cubot squirmed and kicked his little legs, so Eggman wiggled his fingers playfully above him, coaxing a wobbly smile back onto the little robot's tear-stained face.
"Could you please bring me a wipe and a fresh bowl of shell from the workbench?" Eggman asked Orbot, keeping one hand resting gently on Cubot's tummy to keep him still.
Orbot nodded importantly and toddled over to the workbench with great purpose, carefully picking up the wipes and the bowl shell in both arms, and carrying them back with all the seriousness of someone entrusted with a very important mission.
"Thank you, my son — well done!" Eggman said warmly, taking the wipe and fresh bowl shell from Orbot's hands.
With practiced care, Eggman carefully focused on his task — twisting off the old bowl shell before swiftly and gently wiping Cubot's bottom clean. Cubot began to dribble on the wipe, so Eggman patiently held it in place, murmuring soft reassurances until Cubot was finished. He then thoroughly cleaned every surface before fastening a fresh bowl shell snugly and securely in place.
"There we go — all fresh and clean!" Eggman declared softly.
"Dadd…." Cubot babbled, clapping his tiny hands together happily and reaching both arms up toward his father with an eager, gap-toothed grin.
"Yes, that's right — call for me anytime!" Eggman said warmly, gently lifting Cubot up and holding him close. He noticed the little one's curious red eyes darting energetically around the room, drinking in every detail.
"This is your oldest brother, Orbot," Eggman said, holding Cubot and gesturing over to Orbot with a fond smile.
Cubot's eyes landed on Orbot — and immediately lit up. "Brooooo!" he clapped excitedly, leaning his whole tiny body forward and reaching out eagerly toward his big brother.
Orbot beamed and stretched his arms wide, pulling his little brother into a gentle, careful hug. Cubot let out a happy squeal, patting Orbot's side with his little hands.
Eggman set Cubot down on the floor, where he sat and gazed up at Orbot with wide, wandering eyes — as though his big brother were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. The two brothers began playing together happily in the living room, Orbot showing Cubot every toy and trinket he could find, and Cubot marveling at each one. But before long, their movements grew slower, their eyes heavier, and the room
grew quiet with the soft, drowsy sounds of two tired little robots.
"Alright, time for bed, you two!" Eggman said gently, scooping both Orbot and Cubot up into his arms — one nestled on each side — and carrying them down the hallway to their room. He laid them both down carefully, changing Orbot's diaper first while Orbot held onto little Cubot, keeping him close. Then he tucked them both into the crib together, side by side, pulling the soft blanket up around them as they snuggled close and peered sleepily at each other.
"Goodnight, my sweet boys. Sweet dreams," Eggman whispered warmly, his voice barely above a murmur.
He lingered for a moment, gazing down fondly at his two sons — rubbing their backs in slow, gentle circles until their eyes fluttered shut. He switched on the crib's music mobile, its soft, tinkling melody drifting through the room. Then he quietly dimmed the light and slipped out, pulling the door softly shut behind him with a quiet, contented smile.
Next: Cubot POV-Metal