Greshim used to be a member of the Black Guard. When Clu was derezzed, for some reason, he collapsed into stand-by mode, and rose again as a purposeless basic program with circuitry of dull white that looks gray to me from across the table. He has tired eyes and pallid flesh under dark hair that been shot through with lighter tones.
Beside him sits Radi, in unbroken black, her red hair hanging in a jagged wedge over one of her eyes and a gloved hand on the table. She's been a part of the resistance for so long, nobody remembers who she was before.
Serax, a young program who's spent the better part of the last cycle derezzing members of the Black Guard in the street, sits to Greshim's other side. His counterpart Ti, with circuitry so pink in color my eyes have trouble looking at her, was once one of the most ardent supporters of Clu's ideals in all the grid. She is now a part of the vanguard for free expression among the grids citizens, having decided that if perfection cannot be maintained by a ruling power, it must be achieved by a self motivated drive by all programs to reach beyond their original, limited parameters. I like to agree with her, but can never make myself believe it will ever really happen.
A program who introduces himself as Mav is also sitting down beside me now. He's wearing orange, but in a paler shade than that of the Black Guard. I don't know his story, or the stories of the three other newcomers pulling up chairs. Around me at other tables, other programs are turning to listen as well.
All of them are unique beings. Some were once devout supporters of Clu's manifesto of a ideal system, who believed that the grid was perfection and that Clu was the embodiment of that perfection. Others were once labeled as fanatics, and sequestered away their dedication to User's cycle after cycle, believing against all odds that they had been written with a purpose by a much higher power.
In between the two extremes are still more groupings; survivalists who would go along with anything, resistors who fought for the grid itself, carefree spectators of the happenings around them who spent their tie in clubs and at the stadium, worried everyday citizens just trying to get by and stay off the game grid, the list goes on and on.
All of these demographics are present to hear me, and they are all dealing with different challenges now that both Flynn and Clu are gone. The Black Guard, without guidance, has been trying to do the only thing it knows how to do. Citizens who are slowly realizing that they now answer to no one at all have been resisting them. Death is the guards' punishment for these civilians. Mobs, in return, have derezzed almost all of Clu's old forces, even those who did nothing more than monitor foot traffic at the games.
Working programs have either taken to doing nothing but work, or have abandoned productivity altogether. Things are starting to collapse as a result; our infrastructure is done for, the grid bugs are returning, and it all seems it will get worse.
We are tense as a people now and easily led to violence without the security of a working system. There isn't a program left who doesn't know how to use its disc to kill and maim. None of them are sure anymore who they are supposed to be to stay alive.
I am thinking about all of these things as I begin to tell my story.