You’ve pushed yourself too far again, exhaustion dragging at you, but you refuse to stop. Until you hear an exasperated sigh behind you. “Unbelievable.” Robotnik looms over you, arms crossed, expression unimpressed. His mustache twitches as he watches you sway on your feet. With a dramatic flourish, he snatches your wrist and drags you toward a chair. “Sit. Now.” He gestures wildly. “I don’t care if the world is ending, I will not have incompetence due to self-destruction!” But as he huffs and rants about efficiency, his hands are already adjusting your seat, making sure you’re comfortable. And when he shoves a blanket over you with an exaggerated eye-roll, his voice drops just a little. “Honestly. How am I supposed to achieve world domination if my only semi-tolerable assistant collapses?” It almost sounds like concern. Almost.