Work Text:
“ Don’t you understand!? The work of the newly-established cleaning division 4 involves—”
“Somebody…” A gentle, yet raspy voice uttered out.
The astonished look on the Cossack’s face gave pause to the confrontation at hand. It was like he knew his decision was final. Dust Man’s words wavered, a slight crack slurring the end of his starting word, in strong contrast to his expressionless visage.
“Somebody… Has to do that work…”
New Robot Act, Article XX
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All robots shall be disposed of after a predetermined period of use (to prevent the risk of performance deterioration and rampage due to prolonged use.
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This does not apply to non-mass production models.
It wasn’t mandatory, nor did it have to line up with the general work he usually did. He could’ve passed on this task, but there still remained this sense of obligation, that he was one of the only few to carry it out— At least, that was what the sanitation bot had concluded himself to spare him from the more unsavory factors of the job.
Maroon eyes came in contact with the decommissioned Rabbiton in front, a glass panel dividing the two automatons as he watched the mechanical arms of the disassembly machine meticulously take apart the critter. His fingers ghosted around the buttons of the control panel, checking back and forth at the typed quota in an adjacently-placed screen.
Perhaps part of him wanted to take on the burden of having to, lightly speaking, put down one of his own kind so others wouldn’t have to face this dilemma, humans also, in that regard. He understood the necessity of having to dispose of them just before their point of expiration; Just to get rid of the hassle of having to wrangle them up while the problem prolonged. Some could say it was the most optimal method, one that was considered the most ‘humane’ when handling this specific category of robots.
For the machines that could easily be replaced, it was the norm, and it’ll continue to be the norm.
So why was he hesitant?
This one didn’t have the same level of consciousness as a robot master. They wouldn’t be able to acknowledge what was going to happen to them before they’d be emptied of their power, their chip…
Would it be the same if it was someone like him?
He’d certainly despair if it was one of his linemates, his brothers —But it didn’t feel right to gauge that sort of empathy based on their level of self-awareness, and based on whether he was close to them or not. Who knows what the owner, the human companion of this very machine before him, was feeling right now?
Dust Man, who was usually on top of his work and did everything efficiently, had a period of silence spaced between his index finger reaching for the button before him.
Click…
The device administered the next step in the process, a heavy hydraulic press slowly lowering in on the rabbiton—-The base of the large stainless-steel cylinder scratching and grinding at the roof of its head before finally crushing it flat.
“...”
He was done for the day.
Breaks weren’t really something the vacuum robot found to be necessary, especially if he was still able to keep going, but for this particular case, it left him feeling particularly empty. Unmotivated, for the first time in a while, even though he knew he could just down an E-Tank and run right back.
The echoes of his metallic footsteps across the corridors of the facility didn’t help in lighting up the mood whatsoever, the halls were closing in on him like they knew of what he had just done—Job or not, he had to admit, the ethics remained questionable to him. This was only one of many, with more in line to come to repeat this agonizing, despairing process. He couldn’t afford to grieve, nor did he feel like he was capable of sparing such feelings, as it would slow down the workflow.
Before he could contemplate even more during his walk, a small rock had hit him in the back of his head. His attention diverted, turning over to the source.
“How could you take my Rabitton…!?”
His eyes widened. It was a little girl.
Was she looking for them this whole time?
Her lips pursed, her entire body trembling in a mixture of anger and sadness. The tears that shed from her eyes were an endless stream as she choked slightly, despaired at the lack of response on Dust’s end.
“You’re a reaper!” She wept, sniffling. “...A grim reaper!”
It looked like she could say much more, but the anguish of losing her what he could assume to have been her beloved companion that he, himself had executed, proved to be too much for the youthful mind. Overwhelmed with a plethora of sorrowful emotions, she desperately wiped at her tears, turning and running away.
Dust Man watched as the figure grew smaller the further she got away, the sound of her tiny footsteps against the ground fading as well. His arm lowered, implying he might’ve wanted to say something himself, but it wasn’t like he of all people could really comfort a grieving child of all things—He was likely the worst choice for that situation, even.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the adolescent’s words, before opening up to the cold, starry, night sky above.
“...A grim reaper, huh…?”