It was never about attention or hubris. It was about fear and utility; controlling what they perceived to be a useful yet highly dangerous force of nature.

[He doesn't look up at the screen as he talks about it, he just looks at Six.]

That's why they called us Brainiacs. It was...a classification, using the name of our villainous ancestor. Like the ones used for natural disasters before climate regulation became a technological possibility.

The problem always was that we weren't forces of nature. This is what happens when you treat sentients as if they're as unfeeling and destructive as a storm or an earthquake. You risk pushing them into actually becoming that way, due to repression and emotional trauma.

[He presses a kiss to his son's forehead.]

Fortunately, quite a few things in life can apparently be fixed with hugs and ice cream.

[He looks up at Robbie again and looks sheepish.]

That's how I got him to stop having a tantrum after his inhibitor was removed. I promised him that if he stopped trying commit galactic genocide I'd take him for an ice cream.

He liked plooberry, the chocolate was apparently a hard 'meh.'