"Blinded"
I fight for the Users. That is my directive. It's phrased more elaborately, of course, but I have little time or use for elaborate codes and contemplation. Five words are enough to distill it to its essence.
Every time I felt their Call, felt their presence in the I/O Tower, reveled in the gifts they brought to my runtime. It's a joy that the ones created for the Grid can't understand. The Grid-born, the Isos, could never understand, even if they did turn out to be Flynn's chosen ones after all. Thankfully, Beck isn't inclined to ask many questions about the Users. Maybe he came to the same conclusion I have; that we're shouting into the Void, all alone, and the User has abandoned us entirely.
I won't say any of this out loud. It would be admitting that spawn of a virus Dyson was right. He's never getting that out of me.
Beck is far too much like what I was when Master Control came to power. I was young then, younger than him, but I had so much faith. I could feel Alan-1′s presence, his determination, his cunning. He distrusted Master Control well before most Users did, coded me mostly in secret, long hours into the night cycle when it was just the two of us. Lora-Prime was sometimes with him, sending me an instruction when Alan-1 was not available. I was grateful to them; Alan-1 gave me my life, my directive. Lora-Prime, however, coded Yori.
Yori's proof that Clu wouldn't understand perfection if it sunk a disc in his chest. Because she was perfect…no, is perfect. She's a survivor. She's better at it than I am. She's out there, but I can't risk trying to find her. And I don't want her to see me like this - covered in scars, weakened by malware.
There was no doubt when Master Control laid down his ultimatum. Betray those who had given me life, purpose, and love?
And then there was Flynn; careless, foolish, but willing to fight. First words to me were accidental blasphemy (I honor the face of my User. Interesting to know), fierce on the Game Grid, genuinely grieving when Ram was lost. Despite his missteps, he was good at his core, warm and giving. I was proud to call him friend. Yori and I considered him part of our unit. We thought he shared those feelings.
When I told my apprentice I was blinded by friendship, I hope he assumes I was talking about Dyson (and Cyrus, but that's a conversation for another microcycle).
It started small, like a lot of things. Master Control destroyed the laser data, and rebuilding it was nearly impossible. Flynn's pattern was cached, so he could come and go as he wished, but no one else could follow. Then Lora-Prime was leaving for somewhere called "Washington DC" and her projects were set for deletion. Yori - my beautiful, perfect Yori - was marked for death. She tried to accept this as stoically as possible, but I could not. When Alan-1 had no answer, I begged Flynn to save her.
Flynn had an answer. It was The Grid. Yori was brought over, as were many refugees from the EN-511, most of EN-1282, and strays here and there from decaying mainframes and dying hard drives. I was torn, believing I would be abandoning Alan-1, but Alan-1 went silent - giving me up without a protest. I don't know why. Wasn't I worth a fight?
Flynn built his world, but he became…distracted more and more as time went on. Adulation as the Creator inside the Grid and just as much hero worship outside the system built him a confidence that I should have seen as corruption, and his fickle attentions turned to an upgraded version of himself on the other side of the screen and the Isos inside of it. He gave lip service to our friendship, and the bond we built over so many cycles, but heeded my words less and less until my warnings fell on deaf ears and Clu made his move.
Then…trapped. I saw my team surrender to a perverted version of a User's Call. I banged on the glass. I called out for anyone that could hear me.
No answer came.
It's true I didn't scream when Dyson had me, mutilated me. For one, I was not giving him the satisfaction of hearing it. Secondly, I was too busy praying, shouting into the void for anyone, anything. I said all the Guardian benedictions Dumont had taught me. Flynn…Lora-Prime…Alan-1. I invoked them. I even called on the friends that I had lost - Ram and Tank and Anon and Dumont. I needed someone, anyone.
All my love for the Users, all I had done to fight for them, and they weren't there when I needed them most.
I fight for the Users, but I will no longer trust them.
I want to live long enough to confront Flynn. Did my friendship - my love - mean anything to him? I want to ask Lora-Prime what was so damned important in Washington DC that it was worth condemning my Yori to death. I want someday to look Alan-1 in the eye and demand answers; why was my devotion and service not enough? Why was he willing to give me up without a fight? Where was he when I called out for him and begged him to help?
And I'm not de-rezzing until my questions are answered.