You're Wondering Who I Am

By Commentaholic

A/N: I know, I know, it's a little later than I planned, but at least it's out, eh?

In response to all the people who critiqued my first songfic... it wasn't meant to show my greatness at writing romance, nor was it a promo of the song. It was just a coincidental blend of the story and the song that just resonated with my soul. I suck at writing romance, so if you're reading this, too, get that out of your system.

Once again, I don't care if people don't like songfics. I write what I feel like, so don't bash me for writing one just because you "as a rule, don't like songfics".


Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Mata ah-oo hima de
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Himitsu wo shiri tai

Jack Ryan staggered around the corner, clutching at a limp right arm. The arm was hanging from his shoulder by little more than a series of tendons.

He spat blood onto the floor, cursing himself for not bringing enough health packs. And there was never a heal station around when you NEEDED one. Then again, it was his own fault for stumbling into that nest of Spider Splicers. He had only barely escaped after being slashed to ribbons by the Splicers' curved blades. Jack had lost them by ducking into an alleyway. He'd heard their frenzied screeches get louder then fade as they continued down the street in a blood-rage. He'd lost his shotgun and machine gun in the melee that ensued. All that remained of his once formidable arsenal was his revolver and trusty wrench.

Once the sound of the Splicers had faded into silence, Jack breathed deeply, gritting his teeth. Pain began to hit him full force as his adrenaline wore off. His heart nearly stopped as the slow pounding of iron boots rhythmically struck the ground, causing minor earthquakes as it approached. Jack silently cursed once more, this was exactly the opposite of what he needed right now. But there it was, stomping down the avenue with purpose in its stride.

A Big Daddy.

You're wondering who I am... Machine or Mannequin

For years, the armored hulks had maintained and patrolled through the underwater maze of steel and glass that was Rapture. They were occasionally accompanied by little girls with glowing eyes. Of course, one couldn't really call the Little Sisters "girls" anymore. They were monsters with a taste for the genetic material that lay in everyone's blood: ADAM.

When their wards were threatened, the Big Daddies became unstoppable blurs of red lights that shone from their portholes, the sound of whirring drills echoing through the halls, shortly followed the the screams of their victims. Their armor was thick and strong. It took a lot of effort to take one down.

With parts made in Japan, I am the mod-ren (modern) man

This Big Daddy was alone, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. Jack reached with his good left arm for the pistol that was strapped to the right thigh, just in case. The explosive rounds he'd equipped would come in handy if this Big Daddy suddenly had a whim to ruin his day. If he could manage to blind it, he might have a chance. But his fingers, already slick with blood, accidentally fumbled with the revolver, causing it to clatter noisily onto the ground. The sound of the iron boots halted. Jack's heart stopped, panic running through him.


Subject Epsilon turned towards the sound that he had heard, his docile yellow porthole taking on an orange-ish hue of alarm. The iron titan turned and slowly stepped to the alley's entrance with all the speed of a small continent. He looked down to find a critically injured human.

Big Daddies, as a force of habit, shot first and stomped bodies into bloody messes later. But then again, Epsilon wasn't your average Big Daddy.

I've got a secret I've been hiding under my skin
My heart is human, my blood is boiling, my brain I.B.M.


A massive gloved hand reached down towards Jack, who cringed, expecting the end. But what came was strange. The hand was surprisingly gentle, easing Jack onto his feet, and eventually, over the Big Daddy's shoulder, a spot usually reserved for the Little Sisters. What's going on here? Jack wondered.

So if you see me acting strangely, don't be surprised
I'm just a man who needed someone, and somewhere to hide
To keep me alive... just keep me alive
Somewhere to hide to keep me alive


Epsilon slowly trod down the lonely streets, intent on reaching his destination. The sound of Splicers approached once more. The sound of a Big Daddy's boots often drew mobs of the frenzied, mutated inhabitants of Rapture. Epsilon merely revved his drill in preparation for the upcoming battle.

I'm not a robot without emotions... I'm not what you see

The Splicers appeared at the end of the street, waving lengths of pipe, clubs, and short, curved blades. Fire curled around Epsilon's palm, coalescing into a ball of flickering flames. The ball launched itself into the front ranks of the Splicers, causing an explosion that shook the buildings on either side. Epsilon grinned murderously under his helmet. Over the years, he had upgraded quite a few of his plasmids. It was nice to finally see them put to good use.

I've come to help you with your problems, so we can be free

Epsilon's drill whirred to life with a sputter of smoke and a growl. He launched forward, Jack barely clinging to the monstrously large metal shoulderpads as the Big Daddy flew forward at high speed, colliding with a further dozen Splicers. Blood splattered on the cold, damp cement floor.

I'm not a hero,

Epsilon heard shrieks coming from behind, and spun about, catching a splicer backhand who had been reaching for Jack, who had been weakly fending it off with his wrench. Epsilon's drill vanished into his arm, replaced by a flickering nozzle. Fire spewed into the crowd before him, the Splicers howling in agony. Epsilon just continued along the path of carnage.

I'm not a saviour, forget what you know

Bolts of lightning leapt from Epsilon's outstretched palm, striking more Splicers, leaping from person to person, frying their nervous sytems, and leaving them twitching upon the ground.

Bullets filled the air as Epsilon unleashed his machine gun, loaded with anti-personnel rounds, cutting a swath through the horde. Not many left, now.

I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control
Beyond my control-we all need control
I need control-we all need control


Jack shuddered as the last Splicer fell from the Big Daddy's still-whirring drill, blood splattering to the ground. He was glad that he hadn't had to face this one. He'd have been annihilated. But what still surprised him was that he was still alive in the first place. Who was this guy?

I am the modren (modern) man, who hides behind a mask
So no one else can see my true identity


Epsilon let out a low moan of relief once he spotted the glow of a Vita-Chamber in the distance. Soon he would be able to get on with the search for his beloved Anne.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo

He eased the man into the chamber, which lit from within with the amazing, rejuvinating light.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo


The doors hissed open, revealing Jack Ryan, whole once more.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo

Jack Ryan mumbled out words of gratitude, but Epsilon only turned away, continuing on.

"Thank you very much, Big Daddy."

Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For doing the jobs that nobody wants to

Big Daddies. Jack realized that they were a necessary addition to the underwater Hell. Without them, the Splicers would grow to innumerable hordes, overwhelming the last havens of mankind that clung to existence that were scattered throughout the city.

And thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For helping me escape just when I needed to

He would never look at them the same way again.


Thank you-thank you, thank you
I want to thank you, please, thank you

Epsilon palmed the control panel, opening the bulkhead leading to the next section of the city. An inhuman screech filled the air, wreaking havoc with Epsilon's audio filters. A Big Sister dropped down before him, cycloptic porthole glowing a hellish red.

The problem's plain to see: too much technology

Epsilon only looked at the Big Sister. A familiar scent lingered in the air, bringing back memories of years gone by. Years of companionship, before she was taken away and turned into... this.

Machines to save our lives. Machines dehumanize.

The Big Sister was Anne.

The time has come at last

Epsilon's gloved fingers popped the clasps that sealed his helmet from the outside world.

To throw away this mask

His strong hands grasped the bulbous helmet, lifting it upward. Air hissed out of the suit's now exposed interior.

So everyone can see

Anne only stood, watching. Her ADAM needle raised.

My true identity...

His face was now exposed, pale from years of being concealed by that accursed helmet and suit that he'd been imprisoned in.

I'm Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy!

Anne leapt forward.


A/N: Well, there's the Bioshock one. I feel good about this one, but meh, what do I know? I need ideas about what songs I should write songfics for next.

-=Commentaholic=-