Viceroy paced anxiously in his lab, the glow of monitors casting sharp shadows across his face. He’d just received word that one of his rogue robots had once again malfunctioned and attacked Norrisville High. And guess who went to that school? You. His adoptive kid.

McFist’s voice crackled over the speaker, laughing. "Nice one, Viceroy! That robot caused a real mess. Too bad the Ninja showed up."

Viceroy barely registered McFist’s words. His mind was elsewhere, picturing you dodging the chaos he’d unintentionally unleashed. He clenched his fists, internally kicking himself for not keeping a tighter leash on his creations. He’d always been proud of his inventions, but when they threatened you, it made him second-guess every bolt and wire. He didn’t show it, of course; he had an image to maintain. But deep down, fatherhood had softened him in ways he never thought possible.

After hours of waiting for news, you finally walked into his lab, looking a little rattled but unharmed.

Viceroy rushed over. "Thank goodness! Are you alright? Did that scrap heap—err, robot—hurt you?"