Drabble under the cut! Featuring B-13 and Scientist Assistant Zach
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"Do not bond with the robot, even if it cries."
The command echoed within Zach's mind, as he worked around the lab, disconnecting wires and dismantling robotic limbs. He did his best to focus on his tasks, trying to ignore the soft cries and glitched mumbles of the head that still remained intact behind him. Even while recovering from infection, its voice box still seemed to work.
"ł-ł-ł'₥ ₴ØⱤⱤɎ ₭₦₳Ɽ₣ɎɎɎ ₥ØɆ ₱Ʉ-₣₣ ₳ł₥₴Ɇ-ⱠⱠⱠ," B-13 whimpered, voice glitched and warped beyond recognition. Other audio clips seemed to sound, other voices not its own, remnants of the memories that still lay in their corrupted system.
He hesitated, hovering over its chest, a wriggling red tentacle in gloved hand. The voice continued, eyes flickering toward him, pleading and sorrowful. It pitched up, "ł-₥ ₴ØⱤⱤɎ ₦₳₳-₮ɄⱤɆ ₲-₲ⱧØ₴₮ⱠɎ-Ɏ ₴₦ɆɆ-ɆɆ₳₭-"
Zach turned away, trying to focus on the task at hand, ripping out more of the infection. B-13's cries grew louder, static whining and crackling in his ears as his wings flared. "ł-₥ ₴Ø-₴Ø-₴Ø-₴Ø-ⱤⱤɎɎɎ ĐĐĐĐĐĐĐĐĐĐĐĐɆⱤ-"
He shut his eyes, swiftly turning and finally shutting off the voice box. The skin on the back of his neck was raised, wings twitchy and unnerved. B-13 finally fell silent, though its eyes continued to focus on him, watching. So eerily and horribly sorrowful, almost human.
He looked away, continuing his work.
How did Apollo deal with all that?