Rockman Zero Novelization:

Prologue: Rebirth

In the darkness, in absolute panic, nothing is visible to the human eye. Only instinct remains; the thought of survival plagues the mind, erasing all other options to consider. Not only does it affect your sense of judgment, but it also causes pure, unadulterated terror.

Like prey upon predator, they moved advanced forward – Merciless as they were cruel, the imperative order of their leader demanded one objective: Capture and imprisonment. And they complied, without opposing thought; born to destroy and abide, the procession of droids ravaged the jungle, leaving the trees naked to their single trunk. Without any respect to nature, they broke down obstructions without hesitation, plunging their hands into thickets in search of their enemy. When their hands had finally grasped something from their persistent search, nothing but a limb of a Reploid body greeted them, and the severed arm would be tossed over their heads, nothing of importance.

Violet crimson filled the horizon, cycloptic eyes scanning the environment in search of their objective. The oppressive glare saw nothing but the incensed inhabitants of the green coated habitat, however, as they continued to demolish the trees. Just as they had fanned out their numbers for more thorough investigation, a rustling roused their interest – Several distinct figures, previously unseen by the blanket of darkness surrounding them, fleeing away from their position. And especially, a human girl – A girl with a long blonde ponytail frantically jumping behind her, making no attempt to hide. The pink of her clothes was a drastic contrast to her surroundings, and that was what had caught their sight. Halting the search, the legions of mechanical droids marched onwards in orderly fashion, rows upon rows, their new course found.

- - -

The Reploids, who lay prone before them, swore they had looked death face to face as they stared into the scarlet, depthless eyes of their murderers.

Their attempt to cause a diversion had become an utter failure. There were too many of them. Dressed in green overalls and their weapons readied to fire, the soldiers found their hands trembling uncontrollably. As the opposition's weapons were raised, only one Reploid had managed to squeeze off one round before falling lifeless. Some, defiant to their deaths; charged them in blind despair, sacrificing themselves for the others to join their leader. Others, those cowardly – perhaps to their eyes, prudent enough to abandon their duty and flee – Tried to escape the scene in vain hope, every inch a new goal to cover, to fulfill before finding a desperately imagined safety behind the cover of trees. Their rifles speared their backs with every escaping step, but they did not feel such trivial pain. The dying end of the droids' leering rifle represented pain much worse.

But the machines gave merely reprieve, no mercy. The massacre struck the escapees with unabated fury, an outstretched hand of blight. Terror seized their hearts, poisoning head to toe from any movement, and to the Reploid's eye, seconds stretched into minutes, minutes in to hours, then finally. . . Darkness.

- - -

The gunfire had roared throughout the area, and there were distinct cries of the annoyed fauna awakened from their slumber. As they soared into the air, oblivious, to the turmoil occurring below them, the massed number of the droids matched their speed, now in a much more brisk pace than their calm march only moments prior. Urgency pulsed through their heads, demand of capture ringing before their eyes. Although their faces showed nothing of emotion, the minds given birth by the twisted hands, were brimming with happiness to see their purposes being fulfilled, step by step.

- - -

Instinct. That was what fuelled her blinding run, her frantic breathing and seemingly perpetual movement of her legs. Desperation for survival left no space for second thoughts or moments of fleeting hesitation, and the only thing she felt besides fear was panic. The emotion clawed at her lungs, inching its way to her heart, pumping intensely at the muffled screams of horror behind her. She felt as if she had lost control of her body. Her limbs were moving automatically, having a mind of their own, fleeing from the scene in cowardice for her own life, already having forgotten their purpose of having arrived in this forsaken place.

Horrible guilt and shame stung her eyes. She was running for her life while her soldiers sacrificed themselves to save her. Literally throwing their bodies towards the assailants as she continued to run - blindly elbowing her way through this give and take of life and death.

What had gone wrong? Her mind raced for answers as her feet pounded across the artificial vegetation. How did the enemy find out? This mission was only known to a select few, and she had hand picked those who would know of it. She could not imagine a spy, not in her ranks. No, no matter how harsh reality was, no one would have turned on her. But the truth was that this was happening. Maybe this place was being watched, and she was stupid enough not to realize that. She knew it was to be guarded but not this heavily. No, somehow they had known.

Shattering gunshot broke her out of her thoughts.

'Arrrrgh!'

A substantial thud disorientated her for a second, and resulted in her tripping over face first into the ground. At that moment, plastered on the soft earth, all the fatigue, all the pain and all the emotions ghosted her defenses and struck her to hysteria; In front of her face, inches away, the charred remains of what was a Reploid's head attempted to smile, copious amounts of blood filtering out in rivulets from every angle. Her legs, not used to running such long distances, throbbed in tandem with her heart, threatening to burst with all the repressed tears, with all the pressure of having to succeed, with all the determination of wishing to make these wasted lives be worth something. Fifty times she swore an oath in that single moment, for that single warrior who had fell in her stead; fifty times she prayed her mind to stay strong, to stop these tears flooding her face, to stop her piteous gasping for air to weep even more.

Hands snatched at her. At first, her mind gave way to panic and thought that the hands were those of her pursuers. But they were not. She realized that a second later, for albeit they were cold to the touch, they shared an empathic warmth. The malicious whispers enervating her were gone; for what it was worth, the reassuring yells of her comrades were bursting her reserves of energy to overload.

She had to stay strong. The time to grieve was later. There was no place for tears here; failure meant the death of everyone would amount to nothing. She repeated this litany countless times as something wedged itself in her armpit, supporting her even as just a gesture. The miniature little creature put a sad smile on its child-like face, and urged her with her shining wings, beating softly in mid-air as a guiding light. As if a flickering candle to someone who had lived in darkness, this was overwhelming no matter how small it seemed. Yes, she could go on. No, she would.

The rushing air greeting her face ate away her tears.

- - -

'Wha. . ?! What kind of monsters are these?!'

What he saw, was truly a monster. An insuperable titan of metal born from unspeakable technology; the earth underneath his feet was trembling just as he was. His legs crashed together and he had been supporting his weight solely by the use of his emptied rifle. In all his life of fighting, he had never seen something of this like before. A machine, three times his size in height and width, towered over his cowering frame - tugging at his throat as if to pull out the scream that he had been bereft of – and feet scrabbling in empty air. In this moment, he could smell nothing but death, see and hear nothing but. His entire body jarred to immobility from the blight known as fear, the raw emotion had clamped its many claws all over his body; sharp pain came all over his body in the form of seizures. Rational thought evaporated at the sight of two depthless sockets for eyes, producing a crushing, sepulchral line of sight. Or maybe, it had imagined that – For a second later, that dark hole flashed; scattered throughout the patch of greenery, all he could know was nothingness.

To the monster, the objective complete, nothing else was of interest except to press forward.

- - -

The place had become a wreck. Time had definitely caressed its coarse hand over this facility; that was obvious to the newcomers, making their way through what seemed to be a laboratory complex. Technology had surely been worn down, but not had yet fully given in; several systems still maintained functional status after what seemed like a catastrophe that had struck. There were no security systems visibly online, much to the passer-bys' relief, meaning they would find no resistance except dead doors that did not respond except by physical means. How electrical power stayed intact, after observing the facility in entirety, remained a mystery. Crumbling walls threatened to collapse as the girl and her companions swam through the rubble, running atop cracked concrete and avoiding dangerously angled reinforcing wires. Some of the flooring had actually caved in, hindering progress as the band had to resort to climbing or jumping down some easy heights, and some perilous. But overall, the pressure of escape tortured them, making them see a second as the all the time it needed for the window of opportunity to shut.

It was inevitable for them to become pessimistic; they had seen too many sacrifices, and the time they were eating away in a place that could lurch over any second, optimism was torn in shreds and tucked away from their hearts. No one made any attempt to clear it, and no one said it out loud. Because to do that, seemed to make it definite. There was hope, but optimism was different from hope. . . Also, both were indefinite things. Death, leaking through the hallways and closing in on behind them, was.

The girl abandoned all pretense at the new sight. Barely managing to catch her breath, arms weighing down on her bent knees, she could feel despair ebbing at her but she no longer had the will to swat it away. The door was fully functional, working independently from the rest of the facility – It seemed, that this part of the complex was better conditioned than anywhere else. This sector of the complex was alloy, metal, rather than the crumbling rock they had been trudging on – It had been corroding away, but seemed frustratingly solid.

And what had stopped them, was that. To the small party, it seemed rather a gate to seal inside something. There were no accessible terminals to hack into or override. But that was not why they had stopped. It appeared immovable.

'A dead end?!'

It was obviously not. But her eyes blinded with the demands of being chased, the anxiety of wasting every moment, she failed to register anything else but the red and blue lights shining prominently, indicating that the door was still engaged, and the four seemingly secure locks bolting the monolith into place. She failed to register what the creature beside her could; the four letters that represented the shining beacon of this entire operation, the chance of exalting all those who had been slain into heroes.

The single word, printed on the monolith with painstaking visibility, ZERO.

'No. I feel a strong energy inside. This must be the place.'

As added emphasis, the creature glided over to the printed words and beat her wings to catch the girl's attention. Reassured, she nodded and turned to her companions, who, in turn, were examining for some kind of weakness to exploit in the door. There was little to find, and doubt started to eat at them again, shaking their hands in frustration and unease in their search. Haplessly they swept away rubble in anger, drumming the walls for some sort of opening, eyes in mad pursuit. They were finally given relief when one of them found the casing of one of the locks ruptured, vulnerable to rifle fire. The power cable was in clear view, and a well-aimed shot would cause a big enough explosion to short circuit all four locks. How the door ended up, didn't need to be said.

'Okay. Leave this to me! Stay back, Ciel.'

Obediently, Ciel stepped backwards and covered her ears for the coming explosion. Being human, she was rather more delicate than her companions. Her small friend circled her head in impatience, but as well as keeping a lookout for the droids in their never-ending hunt for them. On initiative, two rifles squeezed out bullets in rapid succession, and a brilliant blue arc of electricity crackled before the device detonated under two seconds' fire. Three other locks followed suit, buffeting the area with debris, and Ciel shrieked silently as the ground beneath her swayed, and sharp debris grazed her legs. Reflexively, for she had the worst luck today, she had managed to move the hands covering her ears away just in time for the main course.

As expected and thankfully, the door had imploded rather than shower them with lethal debris. Power lines had evidently run throughout the door itself, and the destruction of the locks had caused a chain reaction, bombing the monolith with webbed explosions that crumbled the door into itself, causing no harm to the small party. Grateful that she had not been the subject of a roasting, Ciel picked herself up off the ground, checking for unnoticed injuries. No visible bleeding, no pain except physical and mental exhaustion. But now, that small hope that had sought haven in her heart, was starting to expand from the tunnel vision clouded by darkness.

Water. That was what first caught her attention when the dust had been absorbed by the whitecaps - created by the explosion - sloshing stagnant water everywhere. The feeling that this section of the lab was compartmentalized from the rest of the facility was reinforced as she saw the different type of equipment, acknowledging their uses as a scientist, her intellectual curiosity noting the mechanics of the machinery. They were little less than rubble now, corrosion edging on their gleam of metallic luster. The air felt stale. This assured her that the door, destroyed now behind her, had served its purpose. Its seal had never been broken except by their hands, since the time of its making.

But when the dust had really cleared – She saw the unmistakable remains of a stasis tank. Ravaged and its internal organs fleshed out to the surface; imminent failure of their violent intrusion threatening the only thing sustaining the fragile connection between life and death for one, hunched figure knee deep in the water. Rays of sunlight, unseen by her hurried entry, shone on this small figure, wreathing it with a fiery shade of light. Crowned with a red-white halo, it remained oblivious to their abrupt intrusion from peace and quiet into noisy and anxious. The head remained bowed as if in submission, and the humming of silent electrical power remained consistent, calming down Ciel when she had the luxury to stop and listen. Relief drowned the small voice of uncertainty that whistled out of her ears by inattentivity. They had found it. . They had found him .

She almost lurched forward, her anxiety slipping away from her and loosening her taut body. Exhaling shakily, her feet prying beneath the water for a firm grip, she began to jog forward; she didn't even respond to the soldier who had acted on initiative, standing guard behind the blackened doorway.

'You should go. I'll take care of them!'

The needle of guilt missed her though, and she had no time to give it thought. The words didn't even penetrate her brain, and she was focused to an extent where she would have asked who he was going to take care of. Her attention, solely riveted on the figure ten yards away from her - Deep, mixed feelings swathed around her body as if a tangible thing. The pessimist absorbing every detail of robot's bodily condition, telling her she had come to nothing. The optimist berating every point argued with inexact things such as hope and faith. Blind belief that somewhere, if there was a higher existence that protected the likes of her – That higher existence would bend fate to her own favor.

At the very least, that kept her feet moving. Her bodyguard moved ahead of her, eager than he allowed himself to be, his pessimism non-existent. His belief was an anchor to his sanity, so steadfast and unquestioning. That anchor seemed to elude her for the moment, making her sway turbulently between fear and relief, despair and joy. Those emotions rocked her for the last few steps, more than she should have allowed herself to. She clutched her chest, gathering herself silently. One step at a time. . . No more than that.

She almost skid face first into her bodyguard's back. Managing to ease her way abreast to him, she stared at the body. The pessimist in her started to gain volume in her head. Maybe she hadn't wanted to take that one step she had just taken.

'This must be. . .' Her bodyguard. But his voice was now distant to her. She was trying to assess the damage. . . If that was the right word. To her eyes, the body seemed to be incomplete, rather than damaged. Age had worked its way through, but the traces of construction still remained. Vital systems integrated and booted first, then the architecture of the body. . . If damage was the right answer, then in the very least, the energy core and the head should have been harmed, disconnected even. But they hadn't.

No forearms to speak of. Without the armor to preserve his torso, his upper body ran rampant with cracks, large to small. Battered by the club known as time. The only positive light was that he was alive, if only barely. Ciel had the time to muse, that if she had not found about him earlier, this body in front of her would have been permanently shut down and become what had surrounded her – Rubble. Beyond repair.

'This. . . Must be Zero. . .' She had to hate the quaver in her voice.

'We found him at last!' And she had to admire the confidence in his. So sure, so assured, so believing. . . And why wasn't she feeling the same way? She made a surreptitious glance to his direction. He seemed to let a small smile play on his lips. The whole stress of the situation erased for both of them, just for this single moment of the fleeting, spirit-lifting sensation. Reprieve.

The small smile disappeared into a grimace of pain as he was flung backward, skidding across the water and splashing Ciel with some of it. The wetness didn't register, but she recoiled back in surprise. She didn't realize he had run forward to have a closer observation. For a brief moment, all of them stood there, silent. Then the answer came from a shining beat of wings.

'It's protected.'

Of course, Ciel silently agreed. She didn't criticize herself for not thinking of it before. Her brain seemed clogged at the moment. Instead, she quickly forced herself to think. A protective barrier. . . She should have put that in her calculations. But the battered body had led her to believe that such things didn't linger anymore. The barrier obviously did not put time into priority. . .

'What should I do. . .' Rubbing the arm that had suffered the brunt of the repulsive force, the soldier began to slowly lose that positive edge.

Unbidden, Ciel's mind worked with sudden fierce celerity. Formulating a strategy to negate the barrier and revive what would be her, no, their last hope. Increasingly, the gears began to revolve, fuelled by the fire that despair was even reaching her companion, the one who had been so hopeful. She couldn't dampen that, even if she could do that to herself. Silently, she began to ruminate. . . The barrier was physical and repelled anything of it's like. Her organic body couldn't penetrate it. It was probably coming from an independent source as well – The radius of it covered what seemed to be the outline of the stasis tank. But there had to be a way, perhaps if she could utilize some of the-

A scream.

The sound of gunfire.

The remnants of her calm withered away that quickly.

'Watch out!' Her bodyguard rushed her, gently but strongly pushing her to the side – With a stifled grunt, he shielded her from the gunfire. Blood splattered the air and instantly, and Ciel inhaled the metallic stench of it. Involuntarily, she stepped backwards, despite herself, the fear of death now back upon her, overtaking her rationality, plaguing her with panic. . . An arm grabbed her. She felt blind, her eyesight suddenly dancing with white spots. But before she could break free of the grasp – Or even attempt to – She felt that empathic warmth again. A very ill premonition dogged that sensation. . . She would never see Milan again.

'We're cornered. We have to evacuate now!' The words were becoming distant again. She could feel her legs. . . But she couldn't move them. Her arms were thrown out in front of her as if she could have protected herself. But she wasn't even doing the protecting – She was the one being protected. Her bodyguard's – Milan's – voice seemed desperately urgent. The sound of countering gunfire became muffled. . . Her voice, her thoughts, became so frustratingly stilled.

'But. . .' She could hear that quaver again. But she could do nothing about it.

'We have no time to argue!' Milan roared into her face. That split second, the diversion of his attention to her, cost him what Ciel knew she would eternally regret. She had barely recovered from the prickle of hurt emotion of how he had yelled at her face. But that became so very trivial, from what reality was shoving her face into right now; the glance of surprise, pain, anguish. The scream that carried all his mortal agony, carried all the regret of his unfulfilled duty. And then Milan disappeared from her sight. His scream, his expression, to drive a nail into her heart and leave a scar.

'Milan!' This was the moment where she would not remember when she had broken down onto her knees. This was the moment, where she would not remember the moment where tears came out in a violent torrent, literally bursting out of her eye sockets. The moment where the body had reactively sheltered her mind in denial from what had happened, and had wiped her mind blank in raw shock.

A second passed.

Two.

Three. . .

The running footsteps underwater provoked no reaction. The malevolent stare, the gleam of a weapon, all were directed to a dumb audience. Except for one being. As much as Ciel felt alone – Ravaged by her shock and sorrow – There was still life, flying across her face in the most primitive manner possible to wake her up – By force.

'Ciel. . .'

But Ciel didn't respond. Closed in her own world - A panorama of memories were playing before her eyes. How Milan had stuck by her side, taking up the position from his predecessor. . . How many times he had protected her, saved her life, and how many times she should have thanked him for each and every time. . . For all his bravery, all his courage and his duty, she could have thanked him until she bled out her voice; and that still wouldn't have been enough.

'Ciel!' The physical pain was sharp. Something had hit her face, slapped her cheek. It was small. . . And there wasn't much strength behind it, but it proved efficient nonetheless.

'. . . Huh?' Ciel looked up. Met those large, childish eyes to hers, and saw herself through them. She had been modeled to look like her, the hair and outfit emulating the similarities. The noticeable difference was the luminescent wings that gave this little creature flight, and her size. Ciel almost let a little laugh escape her. Everyone seemed to be in more control than she was. She felt pathetic. She was supposed to be the leader.

'You should use my power! You have no choice!' The voice hit her with the force of a speeding bullet. Yes. That was the answer. The barrier repelled physical objects. . . While being physically existent, her friend was composed of material that the barrier did not deter. She would slip past the defenses and. . . Do what? A second speeding bullet hit her. If she made that happen. . . She would be alone. Alone. That word scared her more than what she could have felt if she had died with her troops. To die alone. . . The thought terrified her. At least, when she would die with her friends, she would walk with them the path of death. Alone. . . But that thought was becoming more and more real, manifested by the droids closing in on her. . .

'What?! Passy. . . If I do, you'll be. . .' Her friend smiled. A world-weary sort. Ciel couldn't reply the gesture.

'Don't worry about me. Remember,' Passy touched a small hand on her cheek, the one she had slapped. There was intimacy in that small movement that made Ciel cry again. Just when she thought she had run out of tears. 'Everyone is waiting for your safe return!'

Everyone.

She had forgotten. A collage of faces swam into her consciousness, the face of her soldiers. . . The Resistance. How could she forget that? Those hopeful, worried faces when she had announced she would be going deep into controlled territory and find something that would turn the tables. The protest made because the situation was too risky to be handled by their leader, and suggestions of other people taking her stead. But no one else had knowledge she did, the science that she specialized in. . . So, with a heavy heart, and with awful persistence, an entire company guarded her like some kind of retinue. Ciel imagined those faces when she would return alone, knowing full well she shouldn't. But then, she took one step further and imagined those faces when they would hear the mission was a failure. . . And that she had died with it.

She was supposed to be the leader.

And she was. Everyone else was her responsibility. That weight crushed her, the burden of the sacrifices made today, but she had to cope with it. How, she could only find out in herself. But she had to live through this day, this crisis, to make those faces, those of her responsibility, see light smothered by those who wanted her dead.

Those who were halfway across the room and gaining advantage on her.

'. . . Okay. Thank you.' Even her new-found determination of survival ducked under her thoughts of self-worth. As if those three words closed the book on her soldiers killed today. Even to the very end she had to endure the pain of losing her friends. . . Her family . How great was she, just a little human girl, to step over the corpses of her family, and rise beyond to live? For what?

For hope. Happiness. Life.

'No. I should thank you, Ciel. Goodbye. . .'

Taking up her position, absorbing beams of gathered energy, Passy shone brilliantly. . . Giving Ciel her last smile, not a sad but happy one that Ciel could understand with even her eyes closed. I'm glad to have met you. She couldn't return that smile if it killed her. In an effort of bravado all she could was frown to keep her tears from flowing. . . Directing all her thoughts and energy into this single task, that if failed, would end more than just with her death. She could swallow one moment's worth of emotion. She could sacrifice her friend for the greater good. . .

Her cry was more of a wail than a shout. Sad to see her go, but still relying on her going, depending on what seemed like such a dangerous gamble now, but this was either pass or fail, life or death. And having so much to lose, Ciel could only throw herself into the odds of her coming through alive to that blinding white light enveloping her now. . .

And the silhouette shadowing her pathetic, distraught form.

Her next words were more of an absent-minded whisper than a relieved remark.

'Zero. . . Has been resurrected. . .'