Iplier and Septiceye One-Shots/Imagines

Malfunction (Googleplier)

"Are you sure this a good idea, (Y/N)?" Clarke, your coworker, asked uncertainly. "We don't know what he's capable of, and the actuators in his arms can easily break through containment." He walked around the containment chamber, watching the robot that we had made together. Its brown, chocolate coloured eyes were staring at you emotionlessly.

"It'll be fine, Clarke," you said with a grin, unfazed by the robot's glare, staring right at you with sparkling honey-brown eyes. It was a robot, it wasn't supposed to have emotions anyways. "We programmed him to help, so we want to see how much he'll... well, help." You pressed the "accept" button on the prompt that asked, "Give Google IRL admin permissions?"

*

"Oh, God, oh, God," you muttered to yourself, running down the long, white hallway. You threw open the door, running down a fresh set of hallways. This was not what you meant by "sentient".

You worked for Google. The company, of course. And you made the Google IRL, in a secret Area 51 sort of building underground, except with slightly less security. You and your coworker, Joseph Clarke, had been working on Google IRL for a while, five whole years to be exact. Adding little things, making sure his latex skin didn't look too much like rubber, his eyes didn't look too glassy and dead, and his voice just lively enough to pass as human. Clarke was in charge of making sure the metal brain in his titanium-laced skull could access all of the information on the internet with a single question, and you were responsible for making sure there weren't any bugs in him.

Whoo, boy, you screwed up bad. Turns out, autonomous robots were not the best idea, especially when they malfunctioned and there were bugs.

"You seem to be in distress. Is there anything I can do to help?" Google asked from behind you, slowly catching up. You turned left, almost crashing into the wall, and moved left again, hiding yourself in a cupboard. You held your breath, watching Google stride past you in a purposeful way, missing you completely. Slowly, you got out and ran the opposite direction.

"Clarke! Clarke, where are you?" you whisper-yelled, going back in the room where you left him. You didn't want to leave him, but he told you it was safer in the room. So you agreed to let him stay while you got help.

You searched around quietly, and found him. Then you started screaming uncontrollably.

His arms and legs were broken in the complete wrong direction, his eyes wide open, his glassy eyes staring in terror. There were multiple gashes in his abdomen, bleeding profusely. On his white lab coat, in his own blood, an uppercase "G". You felt sick as you stumbled backwards, right into the arms of someone.

Or something.

Google had snuck into the room without you noticing, and you were now caught in his iron-like grip.

"Did you k-know that s-s-six thousand three h-hundred and s-s-sixteen people are killed p-per hour?" Google asked blankly, his robotic voice glitching as he searched up these facts. "Yet over fifteen t-thousand babies are b-b-being born in the same a-amount of time. Humanity is destroying this w-world, just by overpopulation. I am h-helping you, all of you, by c-culling the unnecessary." He spun you around, and you saw his lips widen into a sinister grin as his irises started glowing a menacing red.

"You are welcome."

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Word count: 578