Stylus hummed to himself, still chained to the table. Nobody was in the attic. The current watch person- the organic with the strange hair- was called down by a person the kid called "Grandpa." The grandpa seemed to require an extra set of hands for something.
Stylus looked at the table where his gear still lay. Stylus shook himself to try to inch toward the table. He then attempted to reach the knife with his teeth... Come on, damnit... Stylus thrashed and bit the air, but to no avail.
He sighed. It was the next day, and most everyone was off to the location called Station Square to confront Eggman.
Stylus had an idea that everyone knew that the obviousness of the plan indicated a trap or some sort of trick. Even the kid- obviously never going to be a military specialist- could tell it might have been a trick.
Sure enough, a wub-wub-wub hovering noise approached the building Stylus was currently held in.
"Ah crap," Stylus muttered. He then started thrashing more than ever. Hopefully the repeated force would damage what the chains were attached to.
Too late, an explosion was heard outside, followed by shouting.
Stylus paused when a warning signal blinked on his HUD. Power levels low. Recharge required.
This was followed by more thrashing. After a few more seconds, Stylus gave up. He cursed to himself once, twice, thrice.
The kid suddenly ran up and started undoing the chains.
"If this attack was to get you back, they would have just sneaked in and pulled you out. You can't be an Eggman robot."
"Eggman's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard," Stylus quipped as he finally could move his limbs freely again. He then said "Thanks," as he started assembling both the pistol and rifle.
"You don't have ammo," the kid pointed out.
"No, but they're near indestructible," Stylus replied as he threw on his trousers, backpack, and hat. The robot then climbed out the window to get a real look.
There was a robot. It was big, but it looked far too different from the Good Doctor's style. There was no uniformity. It looked too unique.
Stylus clenched his armoured fists, trying to appear imposing. In reality, he had absolutely no way to fight fellow robots- especially bigger robots.
"Ah crap, I need an edge," Stylus thought to himself. The attacker paused from its house-busting to take note of this new opponent. The attacker resembled a massive armoured gecko, even down to the smooth outer plating. One single orb-lensed eye replaced what would typically be two. It was certainly stylized.
"Alright, Stylus. Think like hell," he thought to himself. His knife wouldn't be able to pierce the gecko's armour, and he has no ammunition.
The tail was bladed, meaning it had a long-ranged attack. In fact, the gecko decided to use its long-ranged attack.
Stylus narrowly ducked under a swing- which threw tens of shingles off the roof. It was followed by a downward strike. Stylus attempted to dodge to the right, but his foothold was not good enough. He slipped and dropped from the roof.
He landed on his plated stomach while the bladed tail embedded itself into the building- which Stylus assumed was a garage. The smaller robot pushed himself up and ran toward the gecko- which was trying to pull its tail out.
Before Stylus made it to the gecko, it made one big tug. Debris flew into the gecko's face- but it didn't really do anything. Before the gecko could follow up with an attack, Stylus already grabbed a hold of the gecko's left leg.
It was easy, actually. Even the smooth plating had edges. Stylus maintained his grip as the gecko started swinging its leg around.
Stylus' grip was strong. The only thing accomplished was the plating being peeled off, revealing circuitry and general weak points for a robot.
Stylus stumbled to regain his balance, then noticed the gecko was planning to follow up with another tail-swing. Desperately, Stylus hoisted the stolen armour piece to the side where the tail was coming from.
Said plating turned out to be useless. Stylus already knew it was a poor lapse of judgement. Come on, he was a robot. He was better than this.
Well, a robot that was over forty years old at least. The old-timer was launched into the concrete wall of the garage.
Every single sensor went haywire for a good three seconds. Not good. Stylus shook his head and got moving.
The gecko decided to move in for a direct punch. Stylus narrowly avoided the straight-on punch that smashed a hole through the wall.
The sensors quickly retained nominal performance, and Stylus tried his own punch. Given that the gecko was close enough, Stylus managed to embed his armoured fist into the circuitry of the left leg. Stylus sheathed his knife with the free hand and started slicing through the wires at random. Many were cut, but the gecko retaliated. It swatted Stylus away with the back of one hand, Stylus lost grip of his knife- which he saw embed itself into a nearby tree.
Meanwhile, Stylus flew through the glass tunnel between the main mansion and the garage. The robot bounced on the lawn and rolled to a halt on the parking lot pavement.
After regaining his "senses," Stylus pushed himself up. He stumbled a little and looked toward the gecko. The slicing of the leg did something, at least. The gecko was having a difficult time moving with what is essentially a dead leg.
Stylus lost his balance and dropped to the pavement again. He then scrambled to his feet again. The gecko was now targeting Stylus in particular.
That kid or his grandpa had better called for help by now. Stylus had few options left besides keeping distance.
He grabbed the sniper rifle tightly strapped onto his back, and held it barrel-first, not unlike a makeshift club.
"Come on, make my day!" Stylus shouted.
The gecko's tail swing was not as clean as when it did it with two functioning legs. Stylus easily dodged it and burst into a sprint toward the gecko's body.
Stylus swung his rifle into the kneecap of the right hind leg. Astoundingly, the plating buckled and jammed the leg with little damage to the rifle itself.
The gecko attempted to move forward, but only ended up falling forward.
Onto Stylus.