RETURN
Cold. Silence. Tranquility.
Flying. Fighting. Falling. Sinking.
Darkness. Numb. Frozen and helpless.
An explosion. A beam of light. Waves of force piercing the water, surging forward. Powerful. Destructive. Invigorating.
He could not remember who he was. What he was. His purpose. His function. His reason for existence. A conflicting code that did not allow him to choose. To become. Built to serve. Programmed to protect. Repurposed to kill. What had he become?
He could feel the old pattern fall into place, overcoming the rewritten code. It was like a huge weight had been removed – yet not entirely gone. It was still there, still fighting the new lead programming. A seething, hissing rage barely contained.
The weightlessness slowly lessened. Then a sudden jolt as he slid onto something solid. The waves still brushed against him, pushing him forward.
The darkness returned.
When he woke up, the light was gone. The star had faded to a small sparkle in the distance. And yet, the sky was clear. For the first time in many cycles, it wasn't stormy. As he gazed up, a feeling of peace overcame him. That, despite everything – the loss of the Creator, the destruction of the Tyrant, and the disappearance of both users and ISOs – everything would be all right.
Flickering light. At first, he wasn't sure what it was coming from. Then a sudden rush of energy, caused him to look upon himself. He was startled to find that the circuitry across his armor was no longer red.
He was no longer Rinzler.
Relief. He could still feel the invading function fighting for control, to destroy those who opposed him and his master, CLU – and yet, he could hold it back, push it down. Willpower so strong…
CLU was gone. He could feel it in his system. Rinzler knew it as well, but it didn't let that stop him from trying to regain power. But so long as he remained alert and vigilant, Rinzler would not – will not – return.
There was a deep hollowness inside of him. A cold vulnerability that he could not explain.
He sat up, the sand moving underneath him. He was wet, still in the shallows. But he did not rise, did not move from his spot. He looked to the horizon, where the lonely star blinked faintly. Every bit of him was sore – perhaps it was because of sudden release of his old function, or perhaps it was physical exhaustion. It was a new feeling. Strangely, he relished it.
He did not know how long he remained in that spot, looking at the small point of light behind those clouds. He did not wish to return to the City. With no purpose, he felt himself go numb. He enjoyed the sensation, the nothingness. It was a change from the constant hatred and hunger he had always felt.
It was impossible to tell how much time had passed – It could have just been a few mili-cycles, it could have been a million times that. It did not matter. With no purpose, he felt little. There he knelt, letting the clean water wash over his knees. It was soothing. It helped him concentrate on holding back that wicked function within him.
And then…light.
It hit him like a solar eclipse – blinding, powerful. It touched his very core, ignited the code inside his system. He felt himself reboot, become stronger. His circuitry grew brighter as the exposure rejuvenated him.
When the beam of light struck down from the dark sky, he knew.
The Users had returned. And Tron would protect them.