REPORT_B_SUBJECT_THECHOSENONE: ORIGIN: UNIVERSE_UNKNOWN (POSSIBLE FIXER)
The huge robot sat in the room, staring at a blank wall. His circuits contemplated what would happen if he tried to break out. He probably wouldn’t get to come back, or get any prizes. He wasn’t told much about it, but he could glean enough from those hushed voices when they thought he was off. The Gamemakers. Apparently they had some other company logo, but it wasn’t any use to him now. He looked back in his memory chip to his young days. At least, those that he could remember. He vaguely remembered all of them- hundreds of different characters, almost all kaiju, who were fighting to the death. He knew that he had started it. And he knew that the others- who thought that they started it- really had no idea what was going on. As I do now, thought the mech. But no longer. There were people filling in on the table behind him. He pretended to be off. The speakers rang: “Hello SM.” Sm? Thought the robot, whose yellow-white eyes slowly opened. That doesn’t make much sense. As if reading his mind, the speakers once again pulsed: “We are sorry for our inconsideration. Would you like to be called a different name?” He thought for a second. Names ran through his head, but at the end one of them stuck: “Naganadel. Naganadel, King of the Stars.” If he could smile, he would.
“...let’s just call you Nag for now.”