OBSOLETE
Prologue
Throughout the long years his old optics had seen wars, massacres, acts of violence so horrendous that they would drive any man to insanity.
Fortunately for his sanity, he was no man.
Yet…somehow during in his long life he had gained the blindness of man.
Somewhere along the line he began to think as one. Feel as one. Live as one.
When did it start? At what precise moment was the line between automatic responses and genuine emotion crossed?
Was it the moment he first labeled Robin Mask as his first and, for a long time, only true friend? Was it somewhere during the time they spent training together? Traveling together? Fighting together?
Was it the day he witnessed Kevin's birth; when life had suddenly become so precious, so fragile?
Was it the day he donned the artificial skin and adopted the name Lord Croe Flash, the secret identity that has slowly eroded into his psyche and embedded itself? Was it even an alternate identity anymore? Or were Warsman and Croe the same, now? Where did one end and the other begin?
He did not know. What he did know was that whenever Kevin would perfect a new attack, the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest was not artificial. He knew that during his old training practices with his Robin Mask, when the old Brit uttered a word of praise, the giddiness he felt was…abnormal. Incorrect. Human.
Eventually he allowed these feelings to overwhelm him. He allowed himself to believe that he was, somehow, above other objects. That he was, somehow, alive.
But laying on the ground, in a pool of his own internal fluids, looking through damaged, hazy optics at his own shattered body, watching the electricity jump from expose circuits was an instant reminder of what he truly was. Soulless. Mechanical. Disposable.
This was always the Fate of a mechanical being, was it not?
To be used.
To be thrown away.
To be replaced by a newer model.
Looking up at this…Warsmanv2, Croe's broken claws weakly retreated back into his knuckles. They were useless against the superior robot's unbreakable chasis. Frantically, his mind searched for a flaw in his enemy's design. Having been from the same mold, Lord Flash looked for his own flaws in this new creation. He searched, oh how he searched, within his antagonist's cold optics for something, anything, that made himself different, worth preservation.
But there was nothing.
"Warsman1.0..." the robot said mechanically, as he stood over Croe and pressed a longer, stronger, sharper bear claw against his prey's throat. The words that droned monotonously from the android sent cold chills through him as if they were the whispers of death itself. "…you are obsolete."
Author's Notes: I have had the ideas for this fic swirling in my mind for the longest time now, and now that Croe's identity has been made blatantly obvious now, I feel it's safe to begin. This is the prologue to what will likely be an epic! rubs hands together I'm trying a few things here I've never tried before, hopefully my ideas will work. I know this is really short right now, but it's only the prologue, meant to wet your appetite for when the story really begins! Hope you like it! ;3