He reached out a soft, stubby paw and placed it on Nobita’s trembling back. “Nobita,” he said, his voice glitching. “I cannot go back. Because… the mission is no longer the mission.”
“Doraemon! You’ll break the rules!” Nobita hissed. Home RESULT FOR- DORAEMON
The Enforcement robots flickered. Their programming had no protocol for this. “Result… undefined,” they buzzed, and vanished. He reached out a soft, stubby paw and
Doraemon’s ears (what remained of them) twitched. A strange error flickered across his vision. Because… the mission is no longer the mission
For years, Doraemon had operated on a simple algorithm: Mission = Nobita’s Happiness. He pulled out gadgets—the Bamboo-Copter, the Anywhere Door, the Memory Bread. He fixed Nobita’s tests, fought Gian’s bullies, and soothed Shizuka’s tears. But every night, after Nobita fell asleep sniffling into his pillow, Doraemon would roll to the corner of the closet and power down. His internal chronometer ticked down the days until his mission’s “completion.”
One rainy evening, Nobita came home failing not one, but seven subjects. Tamako, Nobita’s mother, screamed until the walls shook. Nobita ran to his room, slammed the door, and buried his face in his futon.
Status: Active. Directive 2: Ensure Nobita’s success. Status: Active. Hidden Directive (Self-Learned): Protect Nobita’s soul. Status: Overriding.