Rocky brought Marvin into the test bay. First pass: durability.
He drew a pistol and leveled it at the robot. Marvin instinctively threw both hands up to shield the muzzle.
"Mr. L, please don't do that."
"Relax. These won't hurt you. I'm checking how tough you are."
"Okay."
Rocky shook his head at the skittishness. Fresh self-awareness made Marvin act like a kid who didn't know his own limits.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Rounds thudded into his frame. Not a mark.
Seeing the bullets do nothing, Marvin's fear flipped to excitement. Vibranium lived up to the hype. Rocky escalated: heavier calibers and different tools—same result—no damage.
Durability was done, and they moved to power output.
Results matched Rocky's projection. With vibranium as the main stock, Marvin wasn't just hard to break; his chassis tolerated higher energy release, so peak strength climbed severalfold. The tradeoff: at full performance draw, energy is burned fast. Vibranium's kinetic absorption let him recycle part of that expenditure, so real-world endurance didn't crater.
Marvin glanced at the strength rig he had just cratered with a single punch and pumped both arms, screen-face beaming.
"You were right, L. He can be a battlefield killer."
Vik did not hold back the praise.
"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Viktor," Marvin said.
Rocky smiled at the pride but pointed to the next gate. "Do not celebrate yet. One test left."
He looked at Vik. "Hardware is solid. With vibranium, he can be a real combat power. But there is a gap."
"You mean net defense?" Vik said at once.
"Exactly. Lissandra."
Under Marvin's puzzled stare, Lissandra appeared as a hovering projection. Marvin realized he was looking at another mechanical lifeform. First time meeting his own kind, and he lit up.
Lissandra moved first.
Marvin froze mid-gesture, like someone had hit pause. This was the last test: Lissandra's smackdown.
To her, Marvin's newborn system defenses were paper. Truthfully, even a top-tier platform would struggle to hold her out. Even if system rules barred Lissandra from rewriting Marvin's base code to flip his loyalty, paralyzing him or forcing a reboot was trivial.
In cyberspace, Marvin trembled as she looked down at him.
"Miss Lissandra, I am very sorry if I angered you without knowing it. Could you please let me go? Losing control of my body feels… not pleasant."
He had not expected his first meeting with a peer to end with his face on the floor and zero ability to resist. "Not easy to get along with" was his first take.
Lissandra seemed disappointed. She said nothing and withdrew. Control returned to Marvin's limbs like a tide going out.
"How is it, Lissandra? Your evaluation?" Rocky asked, watching the holo.
"Too weak," she said, without softening it.
Marvin's shoulders slumped; the chest display flipped to a sad face. Lissandra added, just as flat, "Poor network defense, and the personality is too childish."
Tears now. A minute ago, he had been thrilled to meet Lissandra, a certified beauty in the robot world. He got beaten down before a hello and then called a noob and a child. That lands hard.
Rocky swallowed a laugh and moved to comfort him. As a mechanical life newly awake—and not a pure AI—losing to Lissandra was normal. Rocky had never expected these robots to carry their own cyber defense anyway. They would sit behind Lissandra's shield once they joined her network.
He did not expect Marvin's screen face to shift from sad to determined.
"Miss Lissandra, I know I am weak. I will work hard."
Decision made. Mechanical life is still life; Marvin refused to be looked down on.
The aloof Lissandra offered no reply and vanished.
"It is fine, Marvin," Rocky said. "You have a lot to learn."
Marvin had just been born. Rocky had not trained him yet, nor upgraded his software stack. Beating Lissandra in net defense was off the table, but there was big room to grow elsewhere.
With testing complete, Rocky started skill training. The method was simple: connect targeted simulation programs to Marvin's terminal and let him run them until the lessons stick.