Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the band The Protomen, or own any of the characters. All characters belong to Capcom and the songs belong to The Protomen.
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Hope Rides Alone
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No one was left who could remember how it had happened,how the world had fallen under darkness.
At least no one who would do anything.
No one who would oppose the robots.
No one who would challenge their power,
or so Dr. Wily believed...
Dr. Light looked over his instruments, the instruments of mechanical magic that he would use with his own hands in order to start and finish his work. Many parts were scattered around his room, which was cloaked in darkness, just in case -they- came. 'They' being the robots that constantly moved around the city, monitoring each and every one of it's inhabitants, constantly making sure there were no humans who dared to defy the way of Dr. Wily.
Dr. Wily was a genius, but psychotic man. Years ago, he had built an army of robots and with his powerful machines, he easily took over everything. Everyone was to live the way he thought fit. Everyone was to be perfect in the image of Dr. Wily. No one had suspected, no one had seen it coming. They didn't know until the bloodshed began. The blood stained the streets, it stained the walls, the buildings, everything until every last human surrendered to his power. And now they live in denial, denial of what was going on. No one dared to challenge them, for they knew their soft flesh, their weak human bodies would never hold against the robots' power.
Twenty Floors above the dark streets of the city, Dr. Light lived in a run-down tenement.
An eccentric and brilliant man.
Light was a loner, a thinker, a man of ideas.
Ideas forbidden in Wily's society.
The society for which he worked.
The society in which he lived.
The society that he would set free.
With skill and precision, without any blueprints or plans, except for the ones in his head, Light set to work, connecting wires, welding together pieces of metal. No one could ever hear him, no one could ever see him. Yet no one would really care, for they didn't even know the man who stayed locked behind that door, only coming out for whatever food he could find. No, the humans wouldn't care to find out what he was building, and if they knew, they would not believe it could work. They wouldn't care, but the machines would. Wily would. So Light worked in the cover of darkness, never letting the ever-scanning eyes of the machines see what he was doing. For twelve years it went this way, for twelve years he slaved and worked..
And so Light worked, far into the night, when the watchful eyes of Wily's robots weren't upon him.
He'd set his skillful hands to the task of creating a device to bring about a change, to create a machine to bring freedom, to create a man to save the world.
The pieces had all finally come together, they had all finally created a shaped, the shape of a mechanical man, one smaller, yet hopefully stronger than all the ones he had created years before. Hopefully stronger than the ones that Wily used to terrorize and enslave the city. "Awake, my son.. Awake.. Protoman." Slowly, the eyes of the man now lying on the table opened.
Twelve years Light worked and on a cold night in the year 200X, Protoman was born.
A perfect man, an unbeatable machine, hell-bent on destroying every evil standing between man and freedom, built for one purpose, to destroy Wily's army of evil robots. Ready, willing, prepared to fight
"Father.." The first thing he saw was the smiling face of an unkempt old man, dressed in a white lab coat and black pants. He wore cracked glasses, that were worn from years of use. The man on the table was coated in thick, grey armor, and a mask covered his face. His eyes were white and almost seemed dead. His right hand, wasn't there at all. Instead it was a cannon-like machine. Attached to his left arm was a shield, stronger than most metals found on Earth. Light told his son of all that was happened, of all he had to do. Then he sent off his only son to war, sent him to free all of Man.
Cutman
Gutsman
Elecman
Bombman
Fireman
Iceman
Proto
Protoman had left by way of the roof. He stood on top, looking over the setting sun, the orange light filling the city and almost making it seem beautiful. His eyes scanned around him and then with a mighty leap into the air, he went over the edge of the building. Almost as soon as he landed, cracked the pavement beneath his feet, he was running, buildings rushing by him as he ran to face off against Dr. Wily and his army of robots.
Protoman now stood, facing countless robots. There were six prominent robots, the strongest of all the machines in Wily's armies. These six were like devils, their power so strong, so undeniably great. Not even Wily, who watched from the safety of his fortress, could believe that even one person would even dare try to stand against his mighty army. Yet, still he was confident. One man was not enough to destroy thousands of robots. One man was not enough to be a Hero. One man was not enough to save anyone.
The first of the six devil machines was Cutman, an almost shapeless yet humanoid being. His eyes were large and shined of white light. His deformed body looked underfed, his ribs showing through his skin. In one of his hands he held a long whip, capable of cutting through the human bone in one slice, capable of cutting through any metal. His head was shaped like a bullet, the only visible feature being his eyes, which were almost like headlights.
The next was Gutsman, a titan-like machine covered in heavy armor. His mask covered his head and shoulder and his face could not be seen through the hole in his mask, which was shaped like a hideous grin. His legs and arms were almost the largest of his limbs, the armor being hundreds of pounds heavy and inches thick. One blow of a fist could crumble a building.
Elecman was a demonic, humanoid machine, the skin on his body charred almost as black as the suit and tie he was wearing. The hat on his head shadowed his face. Only the white of his single eye and his decrepit teeth could be seen. Sparks and electricity sparked here and there from his body, almost making it seem as if he were to explode any second from all the charge in his body.
Bombman was almost as large as Gutsman, though armor only covered his torso. His arms and legs were very muscular. He had a supply of dynamite strapped to his waist. He almost seemed human, being one of the only ones to actually look human. The hair on his head was in a Mohawk and Indian warpaint covered his face. A serious look was ever-plastered on his face, showing how brave and how strong he really was.
Fireman was the other machine who almost seemed human. A red helmet with a black visor covered his head, hiding his facial features except for his mouth, which did not move, not a smile or a frown. His left hand was gloved in black and curled into a menacing fist, but that was not the most prominent feature of this red-and-black-armored man. In his right hand he had a sinister flamethrower, that could melt away almost anything.
Finally was Iceman, a skinny, yet muscular being, clothed in light-blue, thick clothing. His face was shadowed and covered by a furry Eskimo hood, showing only his eyes, which were much like Cutman's. His hands were long and skinny and his fingers ended in a sharp point. He could move fluently, and a chill followed wherever he went. It was hard to believe that these machines were once built to help humanity, hard to believe that these once-good machines had been easily manipulated and now helped Dr. WIly.
Fireman: Attack!
The battle began. Protoman had been the first to move; his eyes surging with the fury that was rising within him. He put up all the resistance he could, shredding through the lesser robots. But it wasn't long before things began to go wrong, just as many of the humans gathered, gathered to see what the commotion was. Gutsman was temporarily put out by a blast from Protoman's powerful Blaster. But then Iceman had frozen Protoman to the very ground on which he stood.
Then Fireman, taking advantage of the Hero's frozen state, began to burn away at him, only to find out that Protoman's shield easily withstood the blazing attack. Then Bombman, with one mighty swing, one mighty throw, sent a dynamite stick Protoman's way. Protoman knew he couldn't dodge in time, so he made to catch it, perhaps hoping to throw it back. But it backfired. The dynamite detonated as soon as he'd caught it. The blast was great, it kicked up dust and filled the air with black smoke.
And as the smoke cleared.
Wiley rose above the countless robots remaining. Protoman was wounded, low on energy, struggling to remain standing as Wily ordered the final attack.
The death of Protoman.
Dr. Light pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered around the battle. By the time he'd gotten to the front, what he saw struck him with horror. Protoman was being ripped apart piece by piece. Yet still Protoman tried to fight back, tried to fight for the people, tried to fight for their freedom. And yet all his efforts were for nothing, all of them wasted. All that was left was the mask of their Hero. The mask of the Hero of Man. The mask of Protoman.
The crowd had gathered there to watch him fall, to watch their hopes destroyed.
They watched them beat him, they watched them break him, they watched his last defense deployed.
There was not a man among them who would let himself be heard.
But from the crowd, from the collective fear, arose these broken words:
We are the dead
We are the dead
As the chanting of Man vocalized, the robots slowly dispersed. Dr Light moved forward, hesitantly at first. Then he was next to the steel Mask on the ground. Dr Light grabbed a large rock from nearby and jammed it onto the ground. Using a metal tool in his pocket, he wrote 'Here Lies Protoman' and put the mask at the foot of the makeshift grave, the grave of their hero who had died in battle. The humans then began leaving, still chanting their song, still chanting the only words that came to their minds. It echoed into the night, spreading all across the world. We are the Dead.
Human Choir: What have we done?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: What will we do?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: Where will we turn?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: Is there nothing we can do?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: How did it come to this?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: How did we go so wrong?
Narrator: We are the dead
Human Choir: We are the dead