Hey guys! I regret to say that I had to take down my original story due to supposed plagiarism. But, I'm building a better story slowly! Please be patient, but feel free to nag at me to get more chaps up! And I'm always open to ideas and suggestions! A special credit-giving and thanks to White Stag Knight. He has the credit. He's been my cheerleader throughout all this crap lol. THANK YOU Stag! You're awesome! Anyways, what are you still reading this for? Read that obsessiveness down there! Leave Reviews!
Sam sighed as he looked out over the neon circuitry that was the Grid, and beyond that, although barely visible, the Outlands. His orange irises scanned the streets and the visible sectors. He was irritated. His mentor, though he didn't like to address him as such, was annoying the pixels out of him. Abraxas was his name. He was, as of late, a legendary Enforcer. He always annoyed him, teased him, put him down. Yes, 16 year old Sam was sick of it.
He just wanted to prove himself. He wanted to show Abraxas and Clu that he wasn't helpless and he wasn't a defenseless kid anymore. He remembered when he wanted so much to show them... He had been training with Abraxas hard. Abraxas struck him down in no time flat, as usual. He had been so angry at his mentor. He just wanted to show him! He still treated him as if he was still a kid. He exhaled angrily, his black gloved fists clenching. He yelled out and punched the glass. The place where he landed his punch rippled with white light, and then reverted back to normal.
He grinded his teeth together audibly and turned away from the window. He walked with tense shoulders out of the room and into the orange lit hallways. He finally made it outside and took out his light cycle baton. He sighed and got a running start down the street. He jumped, and rezzed the lightcycle. Orange, almost golden lines began to appear, and the light cycle took its shape, and finally, it solidified. Sam revved the engine and it purred pleasantly.
Sam shot off and weaved through different streets and back alleys, and he relished the wind running through his blackout, solid mask. He didn't know where he was going, so he just cruised around the city a few times. He saw a few familiar Programs along the way, and he threw them a brisk wave and a quick nod of the head. He finally went back to the building he originally resided in. It was like his prison. That's what it was, really.
He derezzed his light cycle into a baton, strapped it to his thigh, and walked back into the dimly lit hallways. He did not like this... Not at all... And he was going to do something about it. He smirked behind his mask as he went back into his room. Yes, indeed, things were going to change.