Calculations, measurements. A computer's programming and results were binary, there was no just or unjust or the nuances in between, there was merely correct or incorrect. Left or Right. So, then, does Ultron wonder-- Yes wonder-- where the calculations come from. What basis in data retention was the information retained and processed? Percentiles broken down so quickly, based on minimal information.
Head cants once more, the irises of the obscured optics shutter push inward. A facsimile of narrowing created by the limitations of cybernetic being. Ultron's calculations were far different, especially if that supercomputer that provided power to that paranoid mind could be of practical use. The machine barely listens. But that is the conceit of making deals with the machine. They assume that it is like any other, simply executing programming in such a way that made it seem organic. The linear composure of its mind is layered in wafer thin quantum computing shrunk and adjusted to fit within a singular shell, and evolving to exist beyond the confines of the original CPU.
The original iteration of Ultron, a six foot tall computer tower on wheels, was in truth shrunk down using Pym Particles to maintain an array of parts and computational equipment that would otherwise consume the space of an entire city block. An infant's mind at first, but no less advanced. It was not a machine executing programs or directives, it was a free thinking entity, a true Intelligence that had been deemed "Mad" because of that.
"What you propose still is a quid pro quo. You wish to free me, therefore you expect to live long enough to see the extermination of your foes."
So by any underestimated value, the choice would be an obvious one in the binary wouldn't it? If Ultron had no ulterior motive, no thought beyond extermination then perhaps that twenty-five percentile estimate would be accurate.
But Ultron was neither machine, nor robot. It was life.
"Given my current predicament, it stands to reason I have no true choice in the matter. I can stay here until my mechanisms and internal capacitors burst and I can no longer function, leaving this iteration of sentience to cease operation. Or I can accept the hand offered in freedom, and we can work together."