It was eerily quiet– not that the silence over the past microcycle could be mistaken as peaceful. Since the incident at the distribution station, a lot of programs were afraid to leave their designated work-areas. Military patrols on the streets had been increased tenfold, both to investigate and to prevent further destruction– the atmosphere seemed charged; the entire Grid was set on edge.
Flynn strutted confidently through the midst of it all. Nothing could touch him; he was a User… Even now, he was disconnected from everything around him, rambling to Tron about his latest idea, lost in his head and his own plans as he crossed the derelict street.
Conflict surrounding the situation at hand nagged at Dyson. He knew that what he was about to do had been well earned by Flynn– he believed this with great ferocity; however, it didn't make the task he faced any less difficult. There was no outward indication of his feelings– it was important that he remain unwavering, not show a shred of doubt to the soldiers who stood beside him, each of whom likely had similar thoughts.
From their position in the alley between two of the buildings, he couldn't quite make out what the User and Tron were saying– Tron had raised a concern about something; Flynn was laughing it off. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Flynn!"
Their voices went silent as footsteps echoed through the city sector, and CLU approached them from the other side of the street.
"Am I still to create the perfect system?"
Dyson wondered why CLU had said those particular words. A strange choice, to question the validity of his directive… He suspected that the Administrator wanted to remind Flynn of the reason it had come to this: keeping the Grid in balance required care and dedication, both of which were thoroughly lacking from the User. CLU - and those who'd made the choice to stand by him and protect the programs rather than the ISOs - were out of options.
Flynn's response came off as confused; distracted– as was typical of him. "Yeah…?"
Where he waited - perfectly still so as not to give away his position - Dyson heard a click, followed by receding footsteps as CLU backed away. A metallic whine sounded as the cutting edge of a disc whirred to life. The first two soldiers - positioned between buildings on the opposite side of the street - advanced on Flynn and Tron.
"Now."
The security programs who stood beside him drew their discs and surged forward without hesitation at his order. Dyson himself remained in the shadow of the building– he undocked his disc and held it at his side, one leg forward in a defensive stance, ready to move quickly if needed. He preferred to fight on the offense, and it showed in the rigidity of his shoulders and overall posture… If he'd planned this maneuver alone, he would be marching alongside the programs under his command. If he could, he'd dispel the threat himself before they had to face it.
However, he had strict orders from CLU: he was to wait, and act as backup after the initial attack.
He heard Tron's voice - "Flynn, go!" - followed by a series of heavy footfalls. Another disc edge hummed to life… There were so many now, the sound seemed to reverberate through the city, cutting through the foreboding still air. A sound like glass breaking, but more intricate, more delicate– a quiet groan; the clatter of voxels across the ground– Dyson's grip on his disc tightened. He shifted his weight forward, ready to charge, but he held himself back… CLU trusted him to follow the plan, and no matter what happened, he couldn't betray that trust.
Flynn darted past his location between the buildings. The User was looking around wildly, but didn't see him… CLU was just behind Flynn; the Administrator reached out, caught Flynn by the shoulder, and threw him roughly to the ground. Tron was upon CLU within a nano– he pulled the Administrator away, only for two more security programs to charge him. One gripped Tron's arm and twisted it behind his back, another sliced him across the chest with a well-placed swipe of their disc before he could react… Tron slammed his shoulder into the program pinning his arm and derezzed them as they staggered backward. In a single movement, he pivoted and cut through the other program as well…
Dyson was done watching and waiting. He was coming at his former commanding officer from the side when CLU knocked Tron to the ground. From where he lay, Tron aimed a kick at CLU's leg, and the Administrator lost his balance– Dyson was at their side within a fraction of a moment, and he stepped on Tron's disc arm and struck downward at the other program's midsection. He rotated his forearm sharply as he pulled the disc out– voxels flew from the edge of it and landed at the Administrator's feet. CLU's focus was directed at Tron as well; he twisted the senior security program's disc out of his hand and tossed it out of his reach.
With Tron weakened and CLU's attention fixated on him, Dyson turned away and ran after Flynn– uselessly; as he was nowhere to be seen.
The leading security program let out a frustrated snarl, his empty hand clenched into a fist. He lingered for a moment longer - as if Flynn would be stupid enough to step into his line of sight - before he walked away and returned to the Administrator's side. CLU was speaking with the grandiosity that he was so fond of, though Dyson didn't notice what was being said– his attention was on Tron, who lay in the street surrounded by voxels. A few were the disgraced hero's own, but as Dyson became fully aware of the details of everything that had happened, he saw that the majority of them were not. He and CLU were the only two survivors of this encounter– he realized, with a sickening feeling, that all of the other security programs who'd volunteered to stand against the User had been derezzed.
Tron growled his name, which brought his attention back to his former commander. "Dyson– I trusted you!"
He knelt down beside Tron, glaring into the other security program's eyes with piercing rage and ferocity. "And I trusted you as well– the citizens of the Grid trusted you to protect them from this– this isomorphic virus, and what have you done? What have you done?!"
Dyson reached out and delicately, intricately traced his index finger over the jagged edge of the exposed voxels across Tron's upper body. The program in front of him fought not to give any indication of pain, and he was good at it– but Dyson noticed the subtle clench of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, and it gave him a sense of cold satisfaction. "You've done nothing, Tron… You did nothing, and you let innocent programs suffer for your inaction. Now you're going to suffer as they have."
He raised his disc over his former mentor, blade spinning. Whether he was truly prepared to kill the program whom he'd once fought beside, he couldn't say for sure– before he would have found out, CLU gripped his forearm.
"Not now," the Administrator said calmly. "You have other matters to attend to. Go."
And so it was true. His personal conflict would have to wait until the Grid was finally safe, as it should be. At this moment, there was another team of security programs standing by, waiting for his order to see to it that the ISOs' capital city was leveled. Dyson stood, docked his disc, and walked away, leaving CLU to deal with Tron.
The full reality of the situation he'd faced was starting to catch up to him, and he found himself shaking as he walked down the street. He moved faster, as if that would allow him to escape from the sense that something was wrong or about to be. As much of a failure as Tron had proven to be - as much as Dyson wanted him to know the extent of the damage he'd caused - something in him still remembered the program he'd stood next to in combat and faced challenges alongside. Regardless of what CLU might say, the fact that this had been the only viable solution didn't make it perfect.
However, they were finally free to protect the system; to keep it secure as it should be - not allow free run to a race of viruses, as their User had errantly done - and that was an enormous weight lifted off him.
He marched ahead to annihilate Arjia and watch it crumble to the ground.
