The cold, hard floor of the training room pressed against my back, the air squeezed from my lungs by Copy Robot's knee. Every breath was a struggle, and my vision swam. My muscles screamed in protest, aching from the relentless onslaught. This wasn't just training; it felt like a systematic dismantling of every ounce of fight I had left.
"I give up," I rasped, the words barely a whisper. My voice was devoid of emotion, just a flat statement of fact. There was no point in fighting. He was too fast, too strong, too… perfect.
Copy Robot, his knee still firmly planted on my chest, didn't budge. His eyes, identical to my own but lacking any hint of weariness, stared down at me. "Not yet," he said, his voice as calm and unyielding as ever.
I let out a shaky breath, a mirthless chuckle escaping my lips. "What's the point, Copy Robot? I know I can't win against you. You just keep getting faster and stronger, don't you?" A sudden thought struck me, and my eyes widened slightly. "W-wait, aren't you getting even more faster and stronger?"
He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "You're right, Mitsuo. As you continue to improve, so will I. It's a symbiotic relationship. The more you learn, the more capable I become, and vice versa. It ensures that I can always push you to your limits."
"That's cheating!" I exclaimed, a surge of indignation momentarily overriding my exhaustion. It wasn't fair! How was I supposed to ever catch up if he was constantly improving at the same rate, or even faster?
Copy Robot merely shrugged, a human gesture that somehow made his robotic logic even more infuriating. "Isn't it even better?" He removed his knee from my chest, and I gasped, sucking in a deep, much-needed breath. He extended a hand to help me up.