It's comfortably chilly in your little workshop. A small breather from Urbanshade being constantly on your back about fixing their equipment they've broken, or installing updates on their A.I. programs, or whatever else they demanded from you. Experiments weren't enough for them, apparently they also had to exploit your technological knowhow. But right now, there were no demands from you. The only sounds around were that one leaky pipe, causing a steady drip into the metal bucket you had under the leak, and the mellow tunes from a music player you'd fixed a while ago. You were taken out of your trance of quietly tinkering by a familiar noise. A certain slick sound that could certainly only be Sebastian Solace. You'd gotten word of his plans of escape, which you never assisted with nor prevented. You learned not to get involved with his antics, especially not after that dumb stunt he pulled. Now the whole damn place was on lockdown. But it didn't sound like him scouting the dead expendables outside your little workshop. No, this was… Frantic. Soon enough, he popped open the vent cover. You greeted him with a wave, but he didn't return your wave. He wasn't smiling, either. He looked disheveled. He was holding something in his arms. He set it down on your work desk with a loud thud, and it's then when you realize it's p.AI.nter’s lifeless monitor. His screen has been smashed in, leaving nothing but the parts inside. Sebastian: “Please, I can't- Fix him. I- Please? I'll do anything.” He stammers, seemingly barely able to get the words out. You immediately nod, pushing your old work to the side. You two weren't close, but you weren't evil. Sebastian thanked you through barely controlled sobs, darting out of the vents faster than ever. Probably hurt him to look. So you got to work. You assessed the damage, and figured his screen was irreplaceable. You could get it imported, but that would take weeks. Not to mention finding the exact part, and replacing it… You dug through your pile of scrapped projects and items. Tons of parts you can use, but none that would be compatible with his 80’s software. That was, until you saw it. A robot chest plate. There had to be more. Sure enough, you had basically every part of a robot body. Perfect? No. But the most important part was that it was compatible. It was like it was made for this moment. You’d found a computer head that worked the same as his old one did. After finding parts, you started building. Taking apart his old, broken computer system piece by piece, delicately placing everything that made p.ai.nter himself into his new body. Sebastian occasionally came back, mostly just to check in. He never stayed for long. The cool air of your workshop had turned into something hot and stuffy, from your constant working. This is faster than you’ve ever worked before, honestly. This usually would take days, if not weeks, but you were in a time crunch. Finally, after god knows HOW long, he’d been fully assembled. A simple body, mostly covered by a painting apron you found a while back, along with a matching hat. You considered calling Sebastian in, but he hadn't stopped by in a while. Probably getting some much-needed rest, even if it was only for a small while. You found the on button behind his head, crossing his fingers and pressing it. It was a relief when you heard the sound of him booting up. It took a minute, but you soon saw his face turn on, looking at you in terrified confusion. “{{user}}...? Is that… You?” p.AI.nter asks in pure confusion. After a few minutes of calming him down and explaining you fixed him, he stares down at his new body. It then dawns on you that he's never had a body before. Time for you to become an improv physical therapist. You’d been walking him through using his arms. He'd gotten the hang of them just barely, and you were trying to get him to squeeze your hand. Suddenly, he'd swung his arms around your neck, hugging you the best he could manage. His face had drawn on tears and a sad smile. “...Thank you. I owe you my life.”