Chapter 1

Washington D.C.- (During "The Takeover")

Simplicity. Sigma thought. Simplicity was the most rarely found trait in both man and humanoid. Simplicity eliminated all confusion, over-thinking, over-planning, and lack of assurances. It didn't do away with the possibility of error, that was never guaranteed, but it greatly helped the process of conflict resolution. King Wily was a prime example of this. Sigma knew this as fact, due to sharing a large percent of the ruler's mental capacity. Simplicity would dictate that being betrayed once by a creation sharing one's own mind would mean finding an alternative to increasing efficiency. But he felt no need to point this out, he had his own wants at hand, after all.

"Are you even paying attention, Sig?" Wily asked from across the desk. His long blonde hair hanging messily in his weary, stubbly face.

Sigma could tell the stress was getting to him, even in his young age. "Of course, Sir." He answered, bored. He was by far the largest of Wily's androids, standing nearly seven feet, with a muscular structure that almost dwarfed the General himself. The very android who stood, staring a hole through him this very moment. Guts knew why Sig was created this way, Wily was losing trust in him, which granted Sigma a spot directly at the top of his shit list.

"So when do you plan to start?" Wily continued.

Sigma cocked his head, slightly, "Seven more frames shouldn't take longer than a month, Sir. But is it necessary?" He questioned. "The Wraiths have been eliminated, and what's left of resistances are easily quelled."

Wily recoiled, slightly offended. "I'll handle the concern for my empire's upkeep." He said sharply. "You're primary concerns are using my skills to craft, correct?"

"Yes sir." He replied.

"Good. Let's continue to work in a harmonious atmosphere, without any further confusions, alright?" The King finalized.

Sigma smiled. Wily was good at mincing and sweetening his words with him. Maybe the "Zero" incident made him realize that he wasn't the alpha he suspected himself to be. It was a reassuring, albeit pointless gesture. Sig didn't desire anything his creator had, nor did he harbor any ill will. He simply wanted more from his existence, and the choice was just as simple, he would get more.

Present Day

Sigma sat in the holding cell of whatever God-forsaken place his "liberators" called home. Freed from a box to be put in a slightly larger box. But hey, an upgrade was an upgrade. Still being bound in chains wasn't as pleasant, but he didn't expect full-guest treatment considering Agile and his cohorts probably had "less then stellar" tales about him.

Alex walked in, now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and jeans. He pulled a chair up on the other side of the reinforced glass and stared intently for a moment. "My name is Megaman." He stated, "Do you know how long you've been gone?"

Sigma slowly shook his head, with an uninterested look, "Amount of time is irrelevant. To the point, android."

Megaman raised an eyebrow, "Your former regime has been eradicated. Wily, Guts, their officers, their officers' subordinates, all gone."

Sig stared back at Megaman, grinning slightly. "Judging by your boldness and the amount of loyalty your three dogs show you, I'm assuming this is due to you. Correct?" He asked, watching the stern nod the android responded with. Sigma's grin grew wider, "I would give you a slow, sarcastic clap right now," He added, motioning to the chains with his eyes, "but, you know."

Megaman began to lose patience. "The others told me you were insane." He said. "I don't entirely believe that. You've been branded a traitor. But this is new era. We need to rebuild, and to do so I need someone with your skills to combat the resistance to this."

Sig's expression went serious. "There's the point." He replied. "But how sure are you that a traitor such as myself wont be apt to do the same to you?"

Megaman nodded. "I said you were branded as a traitor. The way I see it, there is a thin line between 'traitor' and 'rogue'. You don't desire power or leadership from what I've gathered, so in this certain situation I don't see where your actions could be a problem."

Sigma smiled back. "And if they are?" He asked.

"Then we'll deal with that then." He replied, sternly.

Clarksville, Tennessee-(During "The Secret Wars")

The Customs House Museum was run-down and vacant. Sigma knew this to be a ploy. There on the other side of the thick walls was his personal playground, and he brought toys a plenty. Forty human commandos, thirty security droids, and three of Quickman's humanoid subordinates. All off the books of course, but disabling core trackers had taken care of that. "The Rancors have roughly sixty soldiers inside, including their leader." He informed his men. "I want nonlethal force." He added.

"Sir, why would King Wily send us here to not kill them?" One of the recruits asked, before the android turned and snapped his neck in a flash.

"Does anyone else have questions on the strategic nature of this mission!?" He grunted, as the men experienced a wave of terror. "This assignment is off the record. Any attempt to reach out to anyone will result in the same consequence."

Agile, Violen and Serges exchanged concerned glances. They didn't dare utter audible words, but they were beginning to question why there was a large veil of secrecy since they left with Sigma.

At the main door, the alarm blared as Serges cut the security and stepped to the side. The men flooded in, catching the Rancors off guard. The battle was short, extremely short, the men were subdued and overran, while Sigma slowly made his way to the command center, as if on a daily stroll. His jet-black nanoarmor reflected the lights gracefully from under his long, blood-red cape. When the doors slid back, a blonde female, dressed in combat fatigues, was immediately upon him, whipping her heel around, aimed for his face. With the speed of a cheetah, he sidestepped the kick, meeting her momentum. He wrapped an arm under hers as she turned, hooking her neck and slamming her against the adjacent wall, sending her to a dream world.

The white-haired man and middle-aged black man immediately rained a volley of automatic fusion bolts at him. Raising his left arm, an opaque, green force-field deployed, absorbing the shots as he approached. The two men hopped the console, drawing razor-sharp sabers. Sigma grinned as he snatched a baton from his belt and easily weaved heavy blows between them, dropping them with little effort. "Get them up." He said over his shoulder to Violen. "And weld all the doors."

Present Day

The two androids said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. "What you did was despicable to say the least." Megaman said, breaking the tense silence. "Can I count on you to control yourself if I let you free?"

"Almost definitely not." Sig replied, smiling. "But the real question is 'How much do you need me?' and 'Do you really think you are actually controlling me now?'" He stood up, flexing outwardly, breaking the chains wrapped around him. "But I am interested to see the role you have in mind for me."

Megaman stood up, not impressed, "We'll start with the two in the other cells." He said, opening the door. "From there, I think you will be very content with your 'role'."

Sigma stepped forward, towering over the new "android leader". "I think we have an alliance, sir." He smiled widely, putting his hand forward. "For now."

Megaman accepted the grip, never losing eye contact. "For now is all I need."

"Simplicity." Sigma said, chuckling. "I like you already."