He should hurry, being in this part of the city after dusk is suicidal, but an oddity catches his eye. There’s a slumped figure in the alley, something is very wrong with it. Cautiously Ultron approaches and understands: the bot has no legs – below ankles there’s just a mess of mangled metal and wires, rust is starting to seep in between chipped paint. The cripple snaps his head and flickering optics swamped with terror stare at Ultron. Much like his own lately, if he has to guess. Ultron takes another step towards before thinking and the bot tries to crawl away, but it’s a dead end and so the plating rattles as his back touches the wall, distressed binary bleeps leave cracking vocalizer. There’s a great pull in his chest, a need to do something, and surprisingly even for himself – it’s not a desire to hurt. “Are you hungry? There’s a bar nearby I can sneak a couple of cubes from there”
Cybertronian Database 