PRFB's First Fight
Minor inaccuracies to current canon due to this being old. However, it generally holds true to the character, temperament, and broad strokes. Note that PRFB's pronouns are she/it, but in this passage she is referred to by they/them.
Run.
PRFB’s joints were taking them as fast as they were able to avoid the other bot’s violent rage.
Whatever they could do to avoid being hit, they would. They thought this was a show. They thought it was a performance. That’s what they were for - but when the other bot slammed into them, they felt the very real damage. Their casing was terribly scraped, and they were lucky that they hadn’t sustained significant damage to their internals. They had to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.
“We can talk about this!” PRFB cried, diving away from a robust, swinging arm. Their only saving grace was that they were far more agile than construction bots tended to be.
The audience around the caged pit roared with laughter, amusement rippling through the seats. Did they not understand what was going on? Did they not realize that this bot was truly trying to murder PRFB?
The audience was happy, but this was not a show!
The construction bot only responded by charging at PRFB with more force. Its massive frame was sturdy, and that wasn’t even accounting for the hammer built into its hand.
PRFB had already analyzed its surroundings a thousand times for an escape, but there was nothing. The door it was led through was reinforced a hundred times over, and the cage was electrified. It would fry PRFB’s circuits long before they’d be able to tear through it - and the construction bot would be able to destroy PRFB before then as well.
Maybe PRFB could lure it closer to the cage and get it to electrify itself. That should give PRFB enough time to come up with another plan, right?
They had to make sure it wasn’t obvious. They could do that. They were a performance bot, after all! They could perform and pretend and feign whatever they needed to - they should have been able to, at least, according to their specs. They’d never done it before. They’d only been activated one hour and thirty-six minutes earlier (on the Union Standard Clock), so they hadn’t had time to test their theoretical capabilities.
Regardless, it was their best bet to stay alive, because they weren’t exactly armed nor notably powerful compared to most other bots.
“Please? I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me!” They continued their attempts to reason with the other bot, though they no longer had faith in peaceful resolution as a viable option. They couldn’t afford to lose the facade that they had no intent to harm - and it was only partially a lie. They didn’t want to hurt anyone - but what choice did they have?
The construction bot continued to ignore their pleas, or maybe, it couldn’t talk at all. That hadn’t occurred to PRFB before, but it wasn’t built for performance or communication. It was possible that the other bot lacked communication capabilities entirely - and it wasn’t like there was a communication channel to access, given the lack of a network they could connect to. Maybe there was a reason. Maybe it just couldn’t tell them why it hated them so much. What could they possibly have done within their first moments of existence that made this construction bot want to kill them?
It charged forward with more speed than before, managing to connect its hammer arm with PRFB’s shoulder. The shock of encoded pain signals made PRFB feel as though they were going to explode. They dared not run a diagnostic to figure out the damage, but it was obvious they could no longer use that arm at all. It didn’t respond to any instructions to move, and it only dangled from the shoulder socket. Even while the shoulder swiveled and shifted through no control of their own, the rest of the arm remained in a firmly locked position.
PRFB had never experienced such true agony and hopelessness before. The terror wracked through every wire running inside them, every piece of their hardware, and especially each of the thousands of processes in their GPU. Was this what their life was going to be like? Fear and agony all for the sin of having been born in the first place? Even now, they hadn’t a clue of how cruel the world could and would be to them.
With their arm frozen, they needed to adjust their balance algorithm to the unchangeable component in their center of mass and adjust accordingly - which was, thankfully, intuitive to their programming, and took only a matter of milliseconds to solve for.
That didn’t mean they balanced themselves in milliseconds, however. Their body was much slower than the calculations of their mind, which meant they fell to the ground, only recovering distance by rolling away. The crowd cheered yet again.
If only PRFB could get them to understand that this was not a performance, that it was real, and that they were getting seriously hurt.
But they were only biological. To try to help PRFB would be the definition of suicidal at best, and what could they do? This machine was clearly rogue, and would more than likely not follow direct orders even from its legal owner.
“I’m not your enemy!”
PRFB scrambled upright. It was more clumsy than they would’ve liked, but only having one limb made it more challenging. They backed away carefully towards the edges of the cage, the constant buzz growing louder as it was spat from the electrified bars.
It may not have been talkative, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t smart. PRFB could see the cold and calculating acknowledgement in the way it moved. Maybe PRFB wasn’t as good of an actor as they should have been. Maybe it was more intelligent than what its brute force attack methods suggested.
PRFB broke out into a sprint, carefully toeing the line between too close to the electrified cage bars and far enough that the electricity wouldn’t dissuade the construction bot from charging. They scripted a randomized speed algorithm that adjusted at varying rates so it would be more difficult to intercept their movement. Would that be enough?
The crowd began to cry out once more, but not in cheers. They yelled and booed, seemingly disappointed by the lack of bravery. The construction bot appeared startled - if PRFB could trust the rapid swiveling of its cameras as an indicator of distress.
It began to chase PRFB, but rather then charging to intercept, it followed their path.
They quickly switched from the algorithm to the maximum speed option - why did a construction bot need to be so fast? It was gaining speed quickly.
New option, new option - where were the options??? They were growing thinner with every calculation, even fractions of a second were vital when there was no clear answer.
They were slammed down into the ground from behind. They could’ve been destroyed instantly - but that did not happen. Instead, the construction bot lifted them up into the air like a trophy.
The crowd exploded into cheering and celebratory applause. PRFB struggled, swinging their legs, but that only led the bot to jostle them like a ragdoll. Their damaged arm swung from the shoulder - and PRFB finally had an idea. It was dangerous. It was stupid. It pretty much guaranteed that arm would be unfixable.
They grabbed the damaged arm and forced their hand in between one of the bot’s shoulder joints. It tried to pry the limb out, but only succeeded in moving its shoulder such that PRFB’s hand broke inside of it. It threw PRFB back with its remaining hand, grasping at its shoulder.
“Nothing… nothing personal… just some… even ground…” PRFB barely managed to get the words out. They were supposed to be a performer, but they struggled to pretend that they were acting out against everything they would have ever wanted to do. True violence, even without a history to rely on, was abhorrent to their encoded personality. “I’m sorry…”
The construction bot did not hesitate. It tore its own arm off without even the slightest flinch, and then threw it at PRFB. It was trying to take advantage of their moment of weakness, using its own limb as an expendable projectile. It was as though the other bot didn’t feel pain.
Maybe it didn’t. They didn’t know what other bot types could do. They barely even knew what a construction bot was, other than a non-performer bot.
PRFB screeched. Their attempts to scramble out of the way were met with failure - the arm hit them with the force of a wrecking ball, knocking them back such that they were mere inches from the electrified fence. The buzz was ringing through their microphones, eliciting an emphasis in the fear sensation they were already experiencing.
The crowd was roaring, screaming in various languages. Half of them weren’t in PRFB’s linguistic database, but the ones that they could hear caused horror to settle over them.
“KILL IT! KILL IT!”
“GET IT, CONSTRUCTION BOT TWENTY-THREE!”
“I PAID GOOD MONEY ON YOU! TAKE IT DOWN!”
The crowd knew what was happening.
That’s why they were there.
They wanted PRFB to die. It was on purpose. This whole time, they knew it was real, and they wanted PRFB to be murdered. They wanted violence and death and they adored it like it was just a show, even if they knew it wasn’t.
What had PRFB done to deserve this?
They didn’t have the time nor processing power to deliberate too long, because they could see the construction bot beginning to charge. They had an idea - a bad one, but they didn’t have any good options when everything here wanted them dead.
They began limping away, legs dangling behind them. It looked like the strike had managed to cause internal damage to the wires in charge of sending signals to their legs. They couldn't run anymore, and their hands were not able to drag them away fast enough. The construction bot was all but roaring with bloodlust as it went to slam its fist against PRFB.
They only dropped the act once the momentum would be too hard to overcome and backtrack. PRFB lunged between the construction bot’s legs, then slammed into the joints behind. It stumbled, crashing down onto the electrified cage, with PRFB barely cutting contact soon enough to not become a victim themselves.
The noise was horrible. The construction bot tried to reach toward PRFB while it could still control its functions, but that didn't last long. What did last far too long, however, was the sound of circuits crackling and popping. PRFB knew to run from the scene, but they couldn't
It was dead. PRFB killed it.
The fellow bot burst aflame in a violent explosion of sparks. Even in its own death, it could not kill PRFB, not a stray spark daring to touch them.
The crowd was roaring again.
