Alright, well, here's chapter 2. I'm excited we got such positive feedback on the first chapter: it only gets better from here. Feel free to ask me questions, although I won't answer them if I feel it's too much of a spoiler. But legitimate questions about this verse, something a character did, setup, etc? Or if something is unclear? Yes, constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated. Our chapter lengths vary, even if I'd like to keep them uniform (in an ideal world), some scenes simply did not work out that way. This one's a good size, though.

Also: this site didn't save my scene breaks and got rid of the spaces between italics the first time around, I've edited and hopefully, it'll stick this time.

We don't own Mega Man: Capcom does. Read and enjoy!

Eventually, X became bored with the procedure and left the room, but not before barking more orders at the others in the room. They visibly winced, visibly cringed whenever his gaze fell on them, whenever he spoke. As he left, the one called 'Hidden Phantom' deftly followed, three paces behind.

Well, that left one of X's progeny in the room, 'Sage Harpuia'. He was willing to bet that the 'sage' part was an honorific, a title, and if the condition of the city was any indication, it wasn't one that was rightly earned.

The same way X hadn't rightly earned the title of 'master'.

Watching this was…he was fortunate that he was even online to see what was happening, fortunate that he had a recourse, but in the meantime…

They'd stripped him down to his bodysuit. His bodysuit. He was not going to walk around like that. He was barefoot!

But naturally, any facility that fabricated items for humans was on this network, along with every other resource, and it took all the effort of a thought to requisition some mechaniloids to prepare some clothing for him. He flipped through the designs disinterestedly, then uploaded specs to the mechaniloids. Fabric type, thread count, dye color, and quality. They even needed patterns and, of course, his measurements (at least his body never changed weight the way humans' did). Boots. His sunglasses. Leather, rubber, and plastic. Lenses. It would be done immediately, he was told. Of course it would. What good little ones.

The environment outside the city was apparently not controlled by the systems here and it was a heated wasteland. A desert. He could overheat, but his system had an effective cooling system (and these clumsy mechanics hadn't tampered with it thus far), so he wagered that he'd be able to make good time before having to stop to rest. And Rock's estimated weight just kept decreasing.

He turned his focus to the city's layout. The facility where he'd requisitioned those mechaniloids was unmanned: there were only robot-level drones there. According to the data logs, a Reploid overseer only came in if there was a problem.

Well, according to the system, this plant was about to have no problem whatsoever, even if it burst into flames and flew off into the stratosphere.

From there…mm. Yes, that would work. And if not…there were weak points here, here and here. And here and here. And…it didn't even matter which way he went, did it? All the better.

And all the while, he kept a careful eye on Rock's steady decline and on the slowly improving condition of his own body.

Copy X remained silent for the rest of the ride upwards through the tower, torn between whether he should chide Phantom for the near disrespectful way that he had questioned Copy X's decision and considering Phantom's point. Nothing so far had been discovered about the core that was powering the red unit, only that the energy signature was almost unrealistically off the charts. If it couldn't be replicated…?

The lift came to a smooth stop, door sliding open, and Copy X stepped onto his personal floor, barely even noticing the two guards posted outside of the main entry to his chambers. Zan'ei assassins, based off of Phantom's designs and personally trained by him, they had been placed on duty a few weeks prior as a precautionary response. There had been rumors around the city of a resistance faction living outside of Neo Arcadia proper, armed and plotting against Master X and the city. With little more than gossip fueling their concern, the Judges had requested that something be done just in case the rumors proved more substantial. Phantom had felt it an unnecessary measure, considering how far into the tower Master X's quarters were, but four of his best had been placed on alternating twelve-hour shifts at Master X's door. Without the direct permission of Neo Arcadia's ruler, the guards were to cut down anyone that dared try and enter the chamber.

There was something sinister in the fact that Phantom himself could be cut down if so ordered.

With a tired sigh, Copy X triggered the release mechanism on his helmet, pulling the item off and resting it on a nearby table. Moving to the charger, Copy X hefted himself in, silently appreciative when Phantom moved toward him and plugged the cable into the lower port on his neck. "You seem worried, Phantom. Perhaps you are afraid that I have taken your words offensively?"

Phantom remained silent, but allowed his gaze to fall to the floor, more saddened by Copy X's decision than afraid of his own fate.

There was little shock at the Guardian's silence. For him to have spoken as much as he had before had been strangely out of character for him. "I am not angered, if that is what has stilled your tongue." He pressed the fingers of one hand to his head, sighing again. "You were not in the Judges' chambers with me earlier, arrived after they had brought recent news to light, so you do not understand fully why I am so concerned with restoring only one unit." Out of the four Guardians, Phantom was the only one that Copy X trusted so readily that he did not feel any trepidation at letting the Reploid know of the events that had transpired behind those doors. "You know as well as I that the energy crisis is quickly getting out of hand. Bit by bit, our resources are failing faster than we can handle. Despite the need for Reploid forces in the city to ensure the safety and survival of our human population, we cannot continue to produce and retain our own numbers as we have been."

Copy X fell silent, the words of Judge Flizard echoing in his mind. "Though Judges Inarabitta and Mantisk disagree, the rest of the Judges believe that we may have no other recourse but to retire any units in the city whose energy expenditure levels are above a certain range. With the city's charger pods networked, Judge Foxtar believes we can keep track of every Reploid in the city and monitor the amount of energy they're pulling from the system."

Phantom could only stare at his master in disbelief. "Do you truly mean to tell me that the energy crisis has reached such a stage that we are forced to retire innocent Reploids simply for the way they were originally built? Can we not simply have mandatory upgrades to help reduce the energy drain? Is death the only way?"

"Unless something can be done, and quickly, with those units that were recovered, I'm afraid we no longer have a choice. The humans remain the more important species, as you are well aware. As much as it makes me question the Judges, as well as myself, this seems to be a case where the needs of the many will outweigh the lives of selected few. Sacrifices will have to be made." Copy X reached for the control switch that would seal his charge pod. "Our resources are far too strained, Phantom. Even upgrading the Reploids could prove disastrous to the city because of the sheer amount of supplies needed." He locked eyes with the Guardian, sorrow evident in the crimson orbs. "That is why I sacrificed the second unit, why I could not let the crew restore them both."

As the pod's top half slid into place to begin the charging process, Copy X hoped that Phantom was not perceptive enough to pick up that his master had been lying between his teeth.

Phantom bowed gracefully and turned to exit the chamber, snapping a quick salute to the guards on either side of the door. As he entered the lift, he said softly to himself in a voice that could no longer hide its grief, "It is as you say…Master."

Finally, once they were satisfied that his body was alright, that he'd be well enough to activate, they turned to Rock and began to prepare to remove his power core.

Enough. The sick, angered feeling curled around him. He'd been patient long enough. This was enough. It was a simple thing, simple as tilting his head or flicking his wrist. Shifting his weight. It was enough to pull a trigger on the network, and everything went tumbling into his net. His grip went from a careful examination to an iron fist.

All of this is mine.You will trade him for your own city.

The lights in the lab didn't flicker, didn't fade. They went dead. And not just the lab. The entire building, the entire complex, the entire city was plunged into darkness. Only the computers remained online. Only the network remained awake. Except it was his network now.

Immediately, alarms went off, the kind that meant there'd been a riot, the kind that meant that deaths had occurred—human deaths. The alarms went off in several places in the city at once, the darkness only adding panic and confusion to the city. Everything that had a computer chip, everything that touched this network was his now. Every tool, every appliance, every computer, every interface. For the time being, anyone existing here was on his charity.

Outside, guard drones began attacking Reploid guards that came to investigate the alarms.

Harpuia was out the door the second the alarms sounded, concern flooding his systems when he realized that the mobilization signals to the Rekku fleet weren't even making it onto the network. The entire communications array had been shut down. Leaning further forward as he ran, boosters coming online as he sped through the halls, Harpuia diverted down a hallway that led toward the outer walls of the soaring tower. Pulling one of his sabers from its sheath, he readied the weapon, snapping the blade through the air as he neared the outer wall, the energy wave ripping through the thick glass and providing Harpuia all the structural damage necessary, the Guardian curling up on himself as he crashed through the window and took to the air.

Harpuia's sudden departure had left the tech crew more on edge than the power failure had, several of the analysts scrambling around the room in a panic, some of them searching for a light source, others for the nearest exist. They knew about the alarms, knew what it meant, understood that if the power had been taken out and the communications network taken down, somethingbig had hit the city.

Blues finally sat up on the lab table and swung his legs over the edge while the analysts were still panicked and confused. None had suspected that he had anything to do with it. Oh, no, it's not like Robot Masters were network managers or anything. They'd even called him a progenitor. They didn't seem to be able to understand what that meant.

They were too ignorant to even recognize that he'd been awake the entire time.

He didn't waste time talking to the analysts; instead, he pulled out the wires and slid off the table, tested his joints. Perfect working order. Just wonderful. He crossed the room and grabbed one of the padded lengths of fabric that they'd been transported in. It wasn't quite a blanket, but the idea was similar. He moved over to Rock and closed his open panels, an impatient and irritated noise escaping with his breath.

It was the first sound he'd made.

He bundled Rock into the blanket. Careful, careful. Once the child was settled, he wrapped the blanket securely around him and tied it off. He could carry him this way. No outside dust would get into his systems once they got out of the city, either.

Ah, his shield. It'd taken a beating over the years, hadn't it? And yet it held. It was probably better quality than the armor these 'Reploids' used. Their armor looked like a lot of padding with minimal physical protection, though without knowing the fabric's composition, he really couldn't evaluate it.

He finally bothered to glance at the analysts, the researchers. "Stay down," he told them flatly, then opened the door and slipped into the hall, carrying the bundle that was Rock over one shoulder.

Now the fun began. He darted off, towards his first stop: the warehouse.

Once the footsteps of the ancient Reploid were no longer audible, the research team immediately began to scramble about, trying desperately to find the source of the power outage and subsequent alarms. The near pitch-black darkness of the room did nothing to help the situation, and soon the flurry of activity became jumbled chaos as Reploids who did not have any night vision or low-light modifications continuously tripped over wires, equipment, and each other. Those few who could see were hardly any better off: backup generators, emergency CPUs, even internalized power sources were offline. There was no way to access any information, or even to power the devices that would be doing the accessing in the first place. Communications were down as well, to the point where some of the techs were surprised that they were even able to speak.

Shortly after the mess began, the techs in the lab heard the voice of their leader. "Okay, everyone stop for a second and calm down! We can tell by now that power and comms are completely shot. This leaves us the whole city as one big target. In fact, it's likely that this is the beginning of an attack by the Resistance, so remember your training! Anyone with night- or low-light vision, spread out and find the rest of us some emergency lights, then look for the Guardians and update on the current situation," the tech lead absentmindly fell onto the now-empty table, "including the loss of the two excavated units. Meanwhile, once we get some light, we will get ourselves to the power plant and assist in any way possible, so meet us there ASAP! Now hurry!"

The few techs who could see led the rest of their coworkers near the door to await a light source, then quickly scattered into the hall, keeping a surprisingly sharp eye out for anything that could be used to light the way for the ones they left behind. The lead tech sighed, pulled himself further onto the table, and crossed his legs. "Please, please be a drill…"

Ciel and a few of the Resistance members had been darting through the hallways of Neo Arcadia's underbelly, two squads of Pantheon Hunters close on their tails, when the lights had gone dead, plunging the already dimly-lit halls into absolute darkness. She screamed, the sound quickly cut off as Milan wrapped one arm around her waist and the other clasped a hand over her mouth, pulling her clear of the Pantheon's fire. Had it not been for the Reploid's proximity to her during the raid, she would have fought to get free. Instead, she closed her eyes and forced her body to relax, tried to settle her rapidly-beating heart.

"With any luck, these Pantheons won't have any night vision capabilities." The words were scarcely whispered to Ciel when Milan heard the telltale sound of the Pantheons switching out their busters for electro-clubs. "Oh, good, they're Pantheon Variables. Now we can get beaten to death with stun rods…"

The light given off by the stun rods did have its disadvantages, however, as a few of the Resistance members that had been behind Ciel and Milan used the faint light as a target, their buster pistols blowing the heads off of the first three Pantheons. The bodies dropped to the floor, and Ciel heard one of the Resistance members swear when the light from the stun rods faded. The remaining Pantheons were quick to move back, a number of them switching back to their busters and watching for the flicker of the pistols' laser sights.

One Pantheon caught a flash of red, turning and firing, a short scream echoing through the halls followed by a heavy thump.

"Milan," Ciel whispered, "we have to get moving." She felt outward, her hand finding floor but no wall near her. At least, not yet. Pulling herself free of Milan's grasp and careful to avoid making any noise, she moved slowly until her hand touched against a wall panel. A soft touch on her shoulder alerted her that Milan had followed.

"The team can handle the Pantheons for now. We have to get to the lab," Milan agreed, gently nudging her forward.

Ciel couldn't tell how far she and Milan had gotten from the bulk of their group, but she froze at the sound of metal striking against metal, her head snapping back towards where the Resistance members were. They wouldn't…

She ducked down, hands over her ears, as the energy grenade went off, the clatter of various Reploid parts against the metallic floor like thunder in the confined space.

Milan listened to the sound of the grenade as closely as he could, took in the cacophonic rain of parts, tried as best he could to place every sound as it happened, measuring, estimating. Assuming the worst, our own forces were at least ten or so yards away when the lights went out. We made thirty paces, roughly twenty yards. The grenade hit from further away, so it was aimed at the Pantheons. I just hope there's a corner nearby…

Milan briefly told Ciel of his intentions, then thumbed the light to his buster pistol and sprinted down the hall, the human leader of the Resistance just ahead of him. The sudden light down the hall caused the remaining Pantheons to fire in short order, the Resistance members doing their best to stop as many as they could, thumbing the lights to their own pistols in an effort to improve their aim. Pistol and buster fire roared throughout the hall, Reploids on both sides falling quickly in the confined space as plasma rounds filled the hallway with light, fire, and death. One distinctly wild shot hit Milan in the back of his shoulder, spinning him to the ground with the force of the impact. The pistol flew from his hand, landing a short distance away and pointing to a turn in the corridor.

Ciel stopped short at the sound of her compatriot hitting the floor, turning and falling to her knees next to him, desperately trying to help him back onto his feet. "Milan, are you okay?" she asked, panic blending with worry. "Where were you hit?" Another yelp escaped her as a plasma shot flitted past her head, missing her by inches.

Milan heaved himself up quickly, pushing Ciel towards the light. "It's just my shoulder! Get around the corner already!" He half-followed, half-shoved Ciel around the bend, scooping up his pistol with his good arm. They ran a short distance down the passage when they were stopped by a massive door blocking their progress. "Okay, if you want to start worrying about my arm, now's a good time. I would like to add that my aim is terrible with my functioning arm…"

The facility was neat and orderly. It was a large, boxy building with small windows dotting the upper half in neat rows. It looked a lot like warehouses back in the twenty-first century. Perhaps some things never changed. He didn't approach from the street. This sector was far enough away from any residential district that the streets were mostly deserted, but he didn't want to be seen. If he was seen, he might be followed and he couldn't afford a fight, not when he had much more pressing concerns.

There was an electronic lock on the door, but it slid open when he approached, then slipped shut behind him. The warehouse was dark, but he sensed where the drones were and they uploaded floor plans and room layouts to him. Not that he would need to go very far in; his items were being delivered here.

He found a sturdy table and gently laid his bundle down, then turned to accept the gear from the drones. He dressed as quickly as he could in the darkness. He felt better this way, even if the clothing didn't afford any real protection against shots. He was covered now and it was with no small amount of approval that he took his newly-made scarf and sunglasses from the little robot.

In the distance sirens whined, and far to the north a new alarm blared.

On the main streets, people were running in a panic, and with their communications down, the city's defense was slow to react. They were disorganized and panicked, sometimes just as much as the citizens. There was no discipline here.

He could keep tabs on everything easily with the cameras stationed throughout the city, even if there weren't many microphones to hear from. He pulled his gloves on and slipped his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose, still listening to the network, then moved back to the bundle that contained Rock, gently lifting it and placing it over one shoulder.

He'd watched them work on him: they hadn't gone near his headcase, hadn't gone near his memory, but he knew he'd feel better once they got somewhere quiet, somewhere secure, and he could give him a proper scan.

He wouldn't wake him, though, not like this. Not inoperational with parts missing. That'd be too cruel. A link to his systems would be enough, once he could pass some energy through his core. Or better yet, get him into some sunlight.

Ciel looked up at the door, the cold gray metal towering nearly twenty feet above them. There was no visible break in the frame or the door, so she couldn't tell how the thing was even supposed to open, let alone if it still could. The Reploid thought to be behind this impenetrable slab of metal was vital to all of their plans. Moving closer to the door, her eyes fell across something, and she signaled for Milan to point the light towards it. "I thought so. It's a security access panel." She frowned slightly, realizing that for all her technical know-how with programming, she wasn't skilled in hacking and didn't have any idea about Neo Arcadian passcodes.

Especially when this particular code could be almost a century old.

He knew that to a human, Rock would still be pretty heavy, but to another Robot Master, to an android? He's be too light to be a person. He knew that they'd assume he was stealing parts or something that could be sold. There were people panicking, people rioting, and people looting. He didn't particularly want to be mistaken for a looter and he definitely didn't want to be intercepted, so the most prudent route to take would be underground. He'd left the mechaniloids in their warehouse. He'd have liked to take them, but as it was, he needed to travel lightly and they'd be too easy to destroy in the chaos.

There were access doors to the underground in strategic points. He chose one that was mainly used for maintenance, one that no one had disturbed in the dark. It slid open when he approached, locking shut behind him once he stepped down. He reached out over the network, feeling for the guard robots that would surely be down here.

Oh, this was odd. No troops had come underground, yet there were several guards that were not responsive. And there were reports of combat in their last log entries. Well. He'd have to move carefully.

There were bodies in the hall, downed Pantheons (at least, that was what the system had designated them as) and what appeared to be several dead Reploids as well. His eyes were set to night vision, so he could see them despite the darkness. He crouched down by one once his scans verified that none of them were alive any longer. They weren't wearing anything that looked like the military uniforms he'd seen.

He stepped over them carefully and continued down the hall, this time moving more cautiously. There was life ahead. There were more downed Pantheons, spilled coolant on the floor. He stepped around it distastefully.

He heard voices.

He waited in the darkness for a few moments, taking the time to scan them. A Reploid and…a human?

She sounded half-panicked, something about the electronic lock and needing to move quickly, before more Pantheons came.

He calculated the angle that the Reploid beside her would have to shoot and how quickly he'd need to move, even with Rock over one shoulder. He shifted so he was partially shielded by rubble before speaking. He couldn't afford to take chances.

"There are no more guards in this section."

It was looking to be one of those days, Ciel noted, as she once again ended up yelling in surprise and nearly jumped out of her skin. Honestly, if this kept up, the chances of her seeing the end of the war were going to be low for all the wrong reasons. Her hand smacked against the access panel, the system beeping at her in what she took for yet another improperly-entered code. Unable to speak without risking more yelling, Ciel was quick to duck behind Milan, the Reploid already raising his pistol, finger hovering over the trigger threateningly.

At least they weren't so dumb as to shoot first and ask questions later. He wasn't actually unarmed, but he looked as though he was and, honestly, he'd rather keep his buster as a surprise. The door hissed and slid open when she yelped and smacked the control panel; he half-expected her to panic with how frightened she already was. It was a good cover.

He remained hidden behind the rubble—it looked like it'd been a portion of the wall once—and spoke again. "I'm unarmed," technically true, given that his buster wasn't formed. "Lower your weapon."

If they refused…the human present would complicate this. The Reploids were likely not governed by the Three Laws and even though her guard was unlikely to turn on her, it'd be hard to incapacitate him if she remained so close.

Milan tightened his grip on the trigger, considering whether or not he would have time to charge up his next shot—and considering whether or not it might be his last. "First your identification code, and it had better be one that is pleasant to my ears." He motioned for Ciel to continue into the chamber without him, and when she looked ready to protest, he shot her a look that made her blush and run into the room beyond the door and, with any luck, towards the person they were here to recruit.

"Blues." He said the word simply, still hiding. He had the bundle that contained Rock between the wall and his body, giving him the most shielding, the most protection. He highly doubted this one would recognize his name: most people in the twenty-first century didn't recognize his name, even if Rock's combat alias, Mega Man, was a household name.

Obscurity meant he could move freely: he preferred it that way.

He'd rather have skipped this encounter altogether, but there wasn't an alternate route that was quite so secure—and a human child and a mostly-blind Reploid were much better odds than a frantic mob.

Wait, a name instead of a serial? thought Milan.That means he's up there in the ranks, but as for his loyalties? He could be a new Judge for all I know…except…

Milan eased up on the trigger, the gun still pointed in the general direction of the voice coming from around the corner, even if he knew he couldn't hit his target with his bad arm, not with the way the other Reploid had positioned himself. "Blues what?"

"Just Blues," and there was an audible shrug along with the voice. The only other names he went by were Proto Man and Break Man, and those were dead giveaways for what he was. He was eyeing the Reploid: he hadn't lowered his weapon, but he also hadn't edged around to try to get a better shot. And his other arm looked like it'd sustained damage…ah, that's why he's so tense. Disabled with a human child to look after.

The fools shouldn't have brought her down here to begin with.

Not a Judge. Good. Here's hoping he'll answer this next question honestly. Milan was hoping Ciel would be able to find what she was looking for soon; he had no idea if there were more reinforcements coming. "No title? Then what's your serial number?"With any luck, he'll assume I don't know the general serial numbers associated with the various Guardians' armies. If I don't know it, I'll have to take my chances and ask for his help…

He actually startled at that, a smile breaking across his face. Ah, when was the last time someone asked him that? Well, if he wanted the serial number he could have it, for all the good it'd do him. "DLN-000."

Milan was dumbstruck. "What…?" was all he could manage to say, his pistol lowering to his side in disbelief. "Either you're ridiculously old, or you're part of a newly-made model line. Considering the energy crisis and the fact you've been named, I can only assume the former. Either way, I don't think I could really put a stop to you if you didn't want me to. The name's Milan, Reploid serial CA-76. If you're here to stop us from looking for the legendary Reploid for the Resistance, hurry and get it over with; otherwise, give us a hand."

Legendary Reploid? Ah, so that's what was sealed behind the door. Something was strange, though. This wasn't them retrieving a lost comrade. He called this one a "legendary Reploid" rather than using a name. He was too unfamiliar with what had gone on during his time offline to even draw conclusions based on that little bit of data.

"Your systems are on a very high alert and…you're still targeting me." Even with his pistol at his hip. No, he wasn't coming out, not yet, not when he may as well still be pointing that pistol at him.

He didn't tell him about how he noticed that his shooting arm was disabled, that he was nearly blind in the dark, and that it'd be far too easy for even a clumsy mechaniloid to take him down.

Milan chanced a quick check behind him to make sure Ciel was out of sight, then dropped into a battle-ready stance, setting his pistol to begin charging. "So, you noticed. Fine, then, I'll be very frank with you: help us, leave, or come out and fight, but you had better decide soon. There is likely going to be an entire squadron of Pantheons of all kinds barreling down on this position sometime very soon, so if you're not on their side, you had best be ready for a hell of a fight."

His voice sounded amused again, but he stepped into the open, just enough for the Reploid to see him. He was carrying something over one shoulder, but it was mostly obscured behind the rubble he'd been using to shield himself. "I already told you, there are no Pantheons coming." He raised his free hand, palm outward in a placating, 'I mean no harm' kind of gesture. "And I already told you, I'm unarmed." But not helpless. "I want to leave this city," he continued, "so if we're going the same way…" He sort of shrugged, but the confidence in his voice could be heard.

He may be unarmed, but he certainly wasn't afraid. He wasn't processing Milan as a threat at all.

Good enough, at least for now, mused Milan, diffusing the charge on his pistol. "Well, if you're really trying to leave the city, then we'll help as best we can, but first we have to try to get what we came here for. Otherwise, what was the point of all the sacrifices of my unit? Come on, we have to find Ciel." Milan turned and jogged briskly into the room beyond the door, silently hoping to himself that he wouldn't get shot in the back suddenly. When that didn't happen, he looked back to find Blues following a somewhat short distance behind. But not too short. Do I really seem that jumpy? Or is this guy somehow not from around here?

This room wasn't darkened: there was plenty of ambient lighting from the capsule in the center of the room and varying panels displaying data. The main lights were resolutely darkened, but…ah, this was on a separate system. He didn't bother touching it, though. Not if they'd come here to wake whomever was in here.

He'd watched the Reploid warily the entire time. Even if he read it as Blues giving too much personal space, it was really more like he didn't want anyone getting too close to him or to Rock.

He didn't want to chance it, and traveling in a strange group already made this more risky.

So. A resistance, presumably against X's regime. It was almost encouraging to know that someone in this time period had a brain. Almost. He eyed Ciel.

He'd never have allowed a human to come down here with him.

She was occupied with the panels, with the occupant of the pod.

There was no information about this room, about this pod, on the network, which was suspicious in itself. Everything else was on here, even 'top secret' orders and data.

For this area to be off the map for the government here…

Or perhaps this was an individual that they'd hidden here, someone they didn't want getting out.

He glanced back at the door, calculated.

Ciel stopped for a moment, collecting her thoughts before turning her attention back to the plethora of status screens, all of which were bombarding her vision with red flag after status alert after error message. How long has he been like this? she wondered, saddened and angered that someone as important to history, both human and Reploid, could have been so idly tossed aside, treated like a plaything that the world no longer wanted to be bothered with. She turned to the pod itself, looking forlornly at the hunched figure on the bottom of the pod, a multitude of wires jacked into ports running along his spine. While most analysis pods only required use of the primary and secondary ports at the base of a Reploid's skull, this pod required far more than that, and Ciel could only guess at why they'd jacked into his neural control system so far away from the processor that ran it all. His helmet was chipped in a few locations, and one of the white bands running back from his cheek was completely shattered.

Turning her attention back to the screens, she moved her hands over the displayed information, reviewing and dismissing a number of the alerts as she tried to find either the maintenance logs or the activation controls. Her body stiffened perceptively when one of the status alert windows informed her that power consumption rates had been lowered to the minimum allotted levels to keep his systems from full shutdown, even during an extended hibernation period. At this rate, Zero wasn't going to be able to stand once they got him out, let alone get all the way back to the Resistance base. Without bringing his internal change levels back to operational minimums, they risked crashing all of his systems and completely reformatting his neural processor, which would prove far more devastating to the Resistance's efforts than not finding him would have. To make matters worse, she'd finally found the maintenance logs she'd been searching for, nearly sick at the fact that his last diagnostic had been run over seven decades ago. That long ago, Ciel knew, meant that his systems wouldn't be able to use Energen Crystals. Reploids of the current era could either charge in pods or consume crystals to restore their internal charge levels. Zero needed a charger pod that could actually generate the needed power, and the one he was secured in looked more ready to fall apart then reactivate him. Worse still was the apparent power outage that had hit the city. Had the energy crisis gotten so bad that the power was shutting down, or had Copy X demanded a full shutdown of the city's resources to help alleviate the problem?

Knowing Copy X, the second option had never actually crossed his mind. Rather Reploids suffer and die than he act as a responsible leader and mandate energy rationing or conservation methods until the problem could be fixed.

Reaching into her vest pocket, Ciel withdrew a small rectangular box, keying in a short sequence before the object illuminated, a small pink-and-white-clad Cyber Elf that she'd been raising for some time manifested from within. Much like Reploids, Cyber Elves sustained themselves on Energen Crystals, although the Elves needed them to grow and mature. A Nurse Elf such as Passy would provide the healing that Zero's systems likely needed, as well as the charge enough to at least make it to the base so that he could be plugged into a charger pod there.

Milan looked over to Ciel as Passy was called from the storage device Ciel often carried with her. If she was summoning a Nurse Reploid...? Considering Zero's condition, it wasn't hard to put two and two together as to what she was intending to do. Walking over to her, Milan knelt down, carefully balancing on the balls of his feet. "Ciel, what are you doing?"

She could feel the dull ache behind her eyes, the first signs that she was starting to cry. It was one thing to be part of the force that took down Pantheons that were trying to retire innocent Reploids. It was something completely different to use a Cyber Elf for their skills, knowing that the energy expenditure was enough to kill them. "We need him back online, Milan, but the power levels in this facility aren't enough. If I try to wake him as he is, I may very well destroy him and leave a burned-out husk. There's barely enough power to keep his pod functioning, let alone ensure that he's got at least the absolute minimum operational charge level."

The Reploid could sense the turmoil Ciel was going through, knowing all too well how much she advocating the raising of Cyber Elves only for the sake of maturing them. She abhorred the idea of killing elves for their abilities and rarely turned to anyone or anything besides Cerveau to handle damage done to any of their troops. He leaned forward a bit, resting a comforting hand on Ciel's shoulder, and smiled, hoping that it would soothe her.

Ciel nodded softly, turning to look at Zero. "Passy," she said softly, "we need your help." She motioned to the lifeless body within the pod. "He needs your help." Reaching into another pocket, she offered the elf a single blue crystal.

Passy smiled softly, taking the gift for a moment before returning it. "Hold onto that for another that needs it, Ciel," the little elf chimed, taking to the air. "Don't worry about me," she said reassuringly. "Everyone is waiting for you to return with Zero. Thank you for letting me be the one to help you." Smiling, Passy flew towards the pod, moving unimpeded through the glass and impacting against Zero's head crystal before vanishing into thin air.

Ciel tried and failed to choke back a sob as a wash of blue-white energy flowed over Zero's body.

Blues stared at the spot where the little…what was that?...disappeared. It took him a moment to realize what just happened, a moment to realize that that little thing, that little life, was just extinguished. And the human and the Reploid were looking sad, like this was something that happened. Like this was something that was sad, but not uncommon.

Like this had been necessary.

He felt that anger, that indignation creep over him again and his grip on his bundle tightened. The girl was crying, upset, but she hadn't even paused to find out if there was another way. She hadn't hesitated or questioned it, didn't try to engineer a better method.

He kept his distance from those two, his systems going into alert, because he hadn't missed what that darling little thing had called the Reploid in the pod.

Zero.

Zero. He knew, logically, that they weren't looking at Wily's last creation as a savior, that they had to know better than to trust anything engineered to kill as that android had been.

So that meant someone out there, somewhere, at some time, had the horrible taste to name their own Reploid after that android.

There had to be a species-wide logic bypass affecting their performance. There had to be. They were just as illogical as humanity.

Groaning heavily, the Reploid pushed himself to his feet, long tail of blonde hair falling fluidly along his back as the analysis connection system disengaged from his body, and he grasped the vest lying at his feet, pulling the item on as he stood. Repair nanites, hibernating for years, had finally awoken, several internal repairs being done while the external damage logged by his systems was oddly absent, though there were a flood of damage reports coming in from the nanite control mainframe. Obsidian eyes turned to the three individuals near him, confusion evident in his features. Taking a step back, he looked at the person nearest him, a blonde female that, as far as he could tell, was likely human. "Who…?"

Ciel was still struggling to hold back tears but she pushed herself to her feet, approaching Zero, Milan close behind. "My name…my name is Ciel. We've been looking for you, Zero, but I'm afraid that this is not the best place for introductions. We need to get you out of here, get somewhere safe."

Safe? Out of here? Where was here? And that name…

"Zero?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to remember, tried to make sense out of their use of the word. "Is that my name?"

Ciel's eyes went wide. Hadn't she taken all the precautions, ensured that he would be at optimal levels for reactivation? What had gone wrong?

Blues glanced back at the data on the panels: there was a vast improvement in his overall condition, but his energy reading was still rather low. If they…he'd have to move some things around on the surface, but they should be able to secure a fairly safe path out of the city, though where they went from there was up to his companions.

He looked up when 'Zero' asked for his own name. "…How long was he in stasis?"

Ciel turned to the individual that had followed Milan, having barely noticed him before. "We…honestly can't tell, although he's theoretically been here for about a hundred years. His last diagnostic was almost three-quarters of a century ago, but I can't find any record of when his sealing was actually performed in terms of an actual date." She tilted her head to the side, confused about this stranger's sudden interest. If Milan had been trusting enough to allow him in here, she was sure it wouldn't risk anything to let him know, but…

Milan turned his attention to Blues, his gaze both curious and concerned. "What does it matter to you?"

Blues' head was tilted, considering their latitude and longitude, doing some calculations in his head. No, Wily never built a skull fortress here. But for him to be…

He looked to Ciel and Milan or, at least, his head turned toward them: his sunglasses made it impossible to see his eyes. "The logs indicate that the maintenance cycles became less frequent over time. Without being able to run his own maintenance…" Without his mind being able to clean itself up, having only a failing machine to rely on, "Well, it's no surprise that memory files became compromised." Though without looking at 'Zero's' mind, he could say whether they could be restored. As a Reploid, it'd be a moot point anyway: they couldn't network.

He was fortunate that his own mind was still clean, but he had a working power source.

Now that he thought about it, Rock might need a lot of work, a lot more restoration than just physical.

Ciel looked behind her to the pod's screens, turning back around to look at Blues, her eyes failing to hide the questions tearing through her mind. "How…what…?" She blinked. "How did you know that?"

Now he frowned at her, as though she just asked him something very simple, something that everyone ought to know. "He's a machine. Just like a human body, without proper maintenance, without proper care, things wear out and break. Memory is not infallible." Honestly, she'd handled technology before, hadn't she?

Zero took a careful step forward, testing his body, ensuring that he was able to move, ensuring that he could fight. Behind his eyes, his system was reloading battle protocols and weapon skills. Reaching to his thigh, he pulled the buster pistol from its holster, nodding slightly when he verified it had enough of a charge that he wouldn't have to concern himself too greatly with it running low on energy.

Something was missing, though. The sheath on his other leg, fashioned for a different weapon, was oddly empty.

"I'm missing one of my weapons," Zero stated plainly. "Where is my other weapon?"

Both Ciel and Milan were taken aback by this. For him not to remember his own name and yet be asking for a missing weapon?

"What are you missing?" Ciel asked, watching as Zero patted the weapon sheath on his right leg as if contact with the area would jog his memory.

"I'm…I'm not entirely certain," he admitted.

Blues frowned again, but not at Ciel this time. There was…ah, another administrator finally logged into the network. Except his access, his level of influence, was limited the way the humans were, the way Reploids were. The way those trapped inside their own minds were. It was a non-issue; Blues had greater authority here.

Except.

Wait. That felt…not familiar, but…

One of the screens on the diagnostic machine flared to life, then a second, as if a current were jumping from one to the next. Zero and Ciel both turned, watching the screens flash with a brief halo-like image before fading back to inactivity.

Milan's hand drifted down to his gun, even if it was his off-hand he was grabbing the weapon with.

Come on, where is it? X whispered to himself, sorting through the data files. Nearly everything that the analysis team had on Zero was stored in this lab, from his original and copy bodies to his weapons and, at one point in time, backup copies of his entire neural mainframe. Thanks for everything, Weil, he thought bitterly. Moving for another file stored on the sole surviving computer, X could only hope that he could figure out where they'd locked Zero's modified saber and how to undo those locks. If only…

Wait…

What the…?

There was someone else on the network? Hadn't Neo Arcadia's entire system gone offline? Well, there went all his careful planning and amazing ninja stealth skills. Everything disrupted by someone else on the network that he hadn't noticed before jumping from Sanctum Yggdrasil to Zero's chamber. And this was supposed to be a disconnected, secure network.

Impatiently, Blues pinged him. If this was who he thought it was, then his systems would be set up to be able to interact with Robot Masters to some extent, if only to check his health and status.

And there it was. No identification number, but the frequency was proof enough. X was here? And…this wasn't the X he'd seen in the…

What the hell.

Irritated, he scanned his youngest brother, cleaned off anything he could be tracked by. The network was secured; anyone who got in didn't stay online long enough to do anything without his express permission.

…A ping? No one used pings anymore, X knew, not since wireless communication access was made mainstream.

Okay, so…older model? But that would mean…

There were some days X really wished he'd have backed up his memory files right after Doctor Cain had pulled him out of his pod all those years ago.

Mentally shrugging, X reached out into the network, tried to follow the ping back to an origin point to answer it, but…

Okay, that just couldn't be possible. He could feel another on the network, but they had no origin location? Wait, never mind, there was…

Did the origin point just shift?

'Who are you and what are you doing on this network?' X demanded. 'This is supposed to be a secure server that can't be accessed from Neo Arcadian network terminals.'

Well, that at least proved one thing. The origin point of the ping was moving, but…that would mean they weren't on the network at a terminal.

X was moving all over, trying to find him, trying to pinpoint him and locate him, as though he were another Reploid on the server.

Blues realized that X hadn't caught on about what he'd just stumbled into. Had this been another Robot Master, he'd have grabbed them and set them down to orient them, but he wasn't sure that the android would appreciate that.

'At the moment, this network is mine. As for secure server…well, yes, it is a secure server now.' It had not been secure previously.

X froze at the mention of network ownership. Not all of his memory files had hit the recycle bin over his lifespan, and that one definitely rang a bell. Well, at least that explained the ping, even if there wasn't an identity he could pin down. Thatinformation, unfortunately, had been lost. 'I'm honestly curious to know how a Robot Master is still alive, let alone serving as network manager in Neo Arcadia. Identify yourself,' X ordered, even though any identification, if the individual was forthcoming, would just sail right over his head.

It sucked getting old.

There was a feeling of approval over the network, as though this individual's thoughts resonated over the whole of the system. 'I do not believe we met, even while you were being built. Rock wanted me to come and see, but—ah,well.' That was water under the bridge now.

'It looks like your own memory files have deteriorated over time as well.' There was a slight frown in the voice now, a flash of concern over the network. At least X still knew his own identity. 'I am DLN-000.' He said it plainly, clearly feeling that X knowing that wouldn't affect his day whatsoever.

X's data flow stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, scratch previous theory—there was still an identification code or two that he remembered.

'Blues?'