He was a robot, a machine built for battle under the appearance of a human. Like a modern golem, the android was strong and silent, ever mindful of the command of his creator. But he couldn't protect his charges -- no, his friends -- forever. The dragon they were fighting was persistent, powered by an insatiable greed that was reflected in the hoarded treasures littered in the cave. Yet the dragon was losing, for he was fatiuged and genuinely famished. But the dragon turned his head away from the android and the two youths, ignoring the blows of the mechanical being to the scene to his right. There a young hero battled a beautiful sorceress, him with a sword, her with a spellbook and incantations that kept her levitated.
The dragon launched its giant tail toward the hero, not in a swing, but a thrust. The tail acted like a polearm. The hero should have seen, heard, sensed the approaching doom from the other side. But he didn't.
There was only a gust of wind before the metal and machinery wailed in its destruction. Instead of hitting its target, the tail impaled the android, who looked down in stagant peace. An artificial creature had saved the hero's life and had proven more than the hero himself.
The hero didn't see the charges who were swallowed by the dragon because of their protector's sacrifice, nor heard their cries and they were devoured. All he cared about was the witch in front of him, and saving the princess she held prisoner.