Intermission: Between The Lines

Time Unknown

Place Unseen

He walked in darkness.

The hall was black, wall and ceiling, floor and doors, and there was not a single trace of light to be seen. It stretched on for who knew how long before making a turn to the right, and he knew that after two more right turns, it would end in stairs leading downwards to the next level. Doors lined both sides, but he ignored them; none of them were the one he wanted. He was on the right floor, though, that much he could tell. To navigate the inside of the Gray House was something that required a sense that could not be explained, only learned without words, through experience.

Though he could have created light for himself through at least three different ways-his systems, the holograms with which he'd always been so skilled, or other techniques that he'd only learned after his death-he knew better than to try. Something about the dark halls themselves abhorred it, and those foolish enough to defy the darkness were repaid for their mistake in short order. The trick, then, was to learn to see without light, a trick that very few could master. Thankfully, it had been an automatic benefit, when he'd become what he now was.

Turning the corner, he saw the door he wanted; he would have known which it was even without two more of his kind standing on either side of it in their gray cloaks, identical to his own. Their hoods were up, and they held their scythes at their sides, but neither of them turned their heads to look at him as he approached. One was human and one was reploid, but he drew no distinction between the two; he knew them both well, and had actually recruited one of them himself. As far he was concerned, they were both Reapers, like him, and that was all that mattered.

"They're ready for you," the human said once he stood before him, his voice deep and resonant and formal. Marcus had been a soldier in the U.S. Army before his death during the First World War, and he'd never quite gotten over the rigid military mannerisms he'd learned back in those days, but he was a good man. "Enter."

"All right." He nodded to them both before walked between them, and opening the door and walking into a room as bright as the hall had been dark. Here, everything was made of white rather than black, though what it was made of, he'd never learned; it was not stone or metal or wood or anything else, but some other, unidentifiable substance that emitted light, so bright as to blind a normal soul. He was not normal, though, any more than the other Reapers were, and he didn't so much as squint as he closed the door behind him.

They sat before him in a half-circle, gray-cloaked like himself and those who'd stood at the doors, though they carried no scythes. The Eldest, they were called, and eldest they were; ancient beyond imagination, those who had been chosen to this duty before humanity had even discovered iron. Thirteen of them, who never left this room, whose only task now was to preside over those who had succeeded them. Rumor had it that one of them was the First, but nobody except the Eldest themselves knew which of them it was... or who it was that had reaped his soul, and given him the duty to do so to all who would die after him.

"DWN000 Doc Man," one of the Eldest said quietly, his voice crude and guttural, after a long, silent moment.

"That's my name," Doc Man, son of Wily, replied as he pulled back his hood, exposing his bald, skull-faced head. Lowering himself to one knee, he bowed before them. "I was told that you wished to see me."

"You have served well," another one of them told him. "For more than a century now, you have done your duty admirably, though your record has not been exactly spotless. Regardless, your dedication to the service has never been in question, and so your occasional mistakes have been overlooked so far."

"I'd say I was only human," Doc Man replied, shrugging and standing again. "But that's not really true, now is it?"

"It is not." Another of the Eldest shook his head slowly. "There are many humans in our service, and in recent years, several reploids have been accepted as well, recruited by yourself. You, however, are unique in the Grey House, as the only Robot Master who has ever taken up our scythe. We thought it best that your kind be represented here by one of their own, and of them all, you were uniquely qualified for the position. You were even able to remember us when you were revived, which we had always thought to be impossible."

"I always figured it was a result of everything my brain went through, back in the world of the living," Doc Man said. "That was something rather unprecedented."

"Indeed it was," the Eldest sitting directly to the left of the one in the center told him, his voice cold and hard. "And because of your unique status, we even overlooked your previous attempt to violate the Laws of Death. But now, it seems you have done so a second time." He drew himself up, seeming to somehow become larger, and when he spoke again his voice was different, no longer his own. "The dead can not reveal the truth to the living."

"I have not," Doc Man replied quietly, mind racing.

"You deny your crimes?" Another of them said, her voice deep and cunning despite its rough tones. "You deny that you have spoken to your brother, who still lives in the world below? DWN027 King?"

"I have spoken to him," Doc Man admitted. "But I have revealed no truths to him."

"Your sophistry will avail you naught," the one who'd spoken before her did so again, scornful. "If he knows of your existence at all, you have violated yet another Law, by revealing your existence to one who could not see you himself. Your brother is not one with the potential to join our service. His eyes are not changing to see what is unseen."

"They are not." Doc Man shook his head. "His ability to perceive the dead comes from another source. An error which was not anticipated by any of us, and which cannot be rectified. He touched the Veil, and yet he lived, and ever since then he has been frozen between life and death in a way that few have ever been. That is why he can see the dead, and hear our voices, though none have ever spoken to him but I."

"Do you think this is a joke?" Another of the Eldest snarled, second to the left of the center. "Does this amuse you, Doc Man? Because we are not amused."

"Nor am I," Doc Man growled back, and despite the fact that his skeletal grin was a permanent feature of his frozen face, somehow he was no longer smiling. "I know better than any, even yourselves, how serious this matter is." Ignoring the ripple of disapproval that ran through the Eldest at that statement, he continued. "I speak to King because I know just how much is now at risk. I tell him no truths, but I guide his own thoughts and theories, yes. I admit this. Because that is how desperate the situation is now."

"You speak of the Maverick Virus," the shortest and smallest of the Eldest murmured, his voice unemotional. "Of your sister. She who, alone in this universe, now commands one of the two powers that were brought here from beyond the light."

"Yes," Doc Man snarled. "Her ascension draws near. She has incorporated nearly a million souls into her own, and once she crosses that threshold, she will come into her true power, a power that even those from which hers was derived did not truly understand. Even now, she breaches the Laws of Death. She has already done so."

"Sigma?" One of them scoffed. "He has survived many deaths, this is true, but none of them were the True Death. That is still in his future."

"Not him." Doc Man shook his head. "Others, who were once hers, before dying the True Death. I confirmed my suspicions before coming here. She has returned them. They live again, once more bound to her will."

"Impossible!" The one left of center blurted. "Ridiculous!"

"And yet, it is true." Reaching inside his cloak, Doc Man produced their files. "Eight souls, which had passed on, ones which I reaped myself. They are gone. Investigate yourselves, if you doubt my words. They have not reincarnated, but they are not here. They are in the World Below once more. A ninth was called as well, but he returned shortly, and I interrogated him immediately to verify the truth."

"Then you know," another murmured, and that was enough to confirm his own suspicions about how much they knew.

"Yes." His eyes and his smile both began to glow red, unconsciously, as he looked from one of them to another. "It is as I have warned you, as I have always warned you, and now it has begun. This is more than one planet, now. She is ascending, and she knows of us. She is a threat to all reality, rather than her world alone. She is a threat to us. Did you think I would take these risks if it were not necessary?"

"It is because of your own actions that this has come to pass!" The second to the left of center yelled. "Because of your words to King, that caused his servant to create that which unified the scattered fragments of Sigma's soul before his death, rather than after! If you had not done that, she never would have followed that trail back here!"

"It was only a matter of time," Doc Man shot back. "Had she not learned of it through that means, then he who created her would have told her of it. The Eighth Survivor. Though he does not possess her power, his mad genius may prove to be even more dangerous, as I have always warned you. He controls her through knowledge of her own nature, more than even her own, and rewards her service by teaching her of it, one bit at a time. Eventually, he would have told her what she learned by following Sigma's trail."

"So," one of them spoke, for the first time, the one sitting directly right of the center. "That's why you tried to make a break for it, after the Ninth Robot Rebellion. When you tried to recreate your physical form, in defiance of the Laws."

"Yes." Doc Man bowed his head. "That was a mistake, and I am penitent... but I do not regret the purpose for which I made the attempt. I wanted to kill them, before they awakened. My youngest siblings, sister and brother, who shared a single body at that point of time. And my father, who created them, and who yet lives to spread the curse of his existence to the world. I was caught before I could do so, and the age of the Robot Masters ended on schedule... and now, we see what has become of that. This must be stopped, o Eldest ones."

"What of the other Survivors, then?" Another of them asked, second to the right of center.

"The First through the Fourth have all died the True Death." Doc Man shook his head slowly. "Sergei Cossack. Kalinka Cossack. Darwin Vinkus. Trenton Corbun. They have passed on, and are with their own once more, now. The Sixth Survivor, however... he will fight her, along with Mega Man X, and all who stand with them. That is why I spoke to him. In order to prepare him for what is to come They're going to need every advantage they can get, if they're going to be stand a chance of stopping this now."

"And the others?" The woman who'd spoken before said. "The Fifth and the Seventh?"

"The Fifth Survivor sleeps, beneath the earth," Doc Man replied. "In time, he will awaken, and join the fight as well. The Seventh, however... he who comes from beyond the light... no. He will never return to that planet again. It's all up to them, now. To those who still remain."

"You have altered the situation," the one second to the right of center told him, his rough voice containing neither approval nor condemnation. "Changed the variables, through your actions. The amount of possibility has increased."

"Yes." Doc Man slowly nodded. "I have. In order to improve our chances. The more possible outcomes there are, the greater the chances that that which comes to pass will be favorable. For us, and for the world. For all the worlds."

"You believe they stand a chance, then," the one directly right of center said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I do." Doc Man lowered his head. "And all that I have done was to improve their chances of success. For our own existence may depend on it as well, now." He stood there in silence for some time, he knew not how long, before another of them spoke once more.

"Go," the Eldest in the center told him, speaking for the first time. "Return to your duties. We will consider your words."

"As you command." Bowing once more, Doc Man turned and left.

"How'd it go?" The reploid standing outside asked him, her voice calm, once he'd closed the door. Morrigan was one of his best friends, along with her lover, Lee; he'd been a Maverick Hunter, and she a staff member in the funeral department, before their deaths. Doc Man had always found the irony of that to be more than slightly amusing.

"Hard to say, with them," he replied. "I've still got my job, but beyond that..." He shrugged. "I'm going back out. See you and Lee tonight at the usual time?"

"We'll be there," she promised. "Good luck."

"Luck," Marcus agreed.

"For all of us." Doc Man winked before walking down the hall again, towards the stairs leading downwards, despite the fact that that wasn't the way he'd come. One could always head down, but never up, and there was no bottom floor; the halls of the Gray House were like that. Eventually, he found the door he was looking for, one just like any other. Opening it, he walked out of the front of the House, into the misty gray precipice above the world of the living. It stood slightly to the side of the Gates, something which was probably symbolic, though he didn't really know much about such things.

"Hey!" Looking over, he saw somebody walking towards the edge, somebody who wore no gray cloak. "Hey, hey, what are you doing? You're not supposed to be out here without one of us supervising you!" Running over, he slowed down once he saw who it was; a stout man in his early seventies, with snow-white hair and an impressive beard of the same color, clad in a labcoat and brown slacks. "Oh, it's you. Well, I guess that explains how you got out." He paused. "Well, actually, no, it doesn't. I still don't know how you do that."

"Eh." Dr. Thomas Light shrugged, before glancing over his shoulder and smiling. "What's up, Doc?"

"Really?" Doc Man asked him flatly. "Did you really just go there?"

"I couldn't resist." Dr. Light chuckled, and after a moment, Doc Man laughed as well. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to sneak down there again. I just wanted to go see how Al was doing."

"About the same as always." Doc Man sighed. "For a while there, I thought he was getting better. He stopped hurting himself, even if he was still completely unresponsive, once Zero got up here. But now that he's gone back..." He shook his head.

"Ah." Dr. Light frowned. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I've been thinking about that," Doc Man explained. "I think maybe it's more finding something for him to do. If we can come up with something that would distract him, that would keep him busy, I think maybe that would help. Of course, actually getting through to him that he was supposed to do it would be another story. He's moving, but there doesn't seem to be any actual thought going on. Practically catatonic."

"I'm sure there's something," Dr. Light murmured. "I'll think about it and see what I can come up with."

"I'd appreciate it." Doc Man nodded as they both approached the precipice. "You know him better than anybody."

"Once, I would have argued that." Dr. Light shook his head, deliberately avoiding looking at the old man who still remained near there. "But now... he's become the man I know once more." He looked at Doc Man then. "What will happen to him, if... the one down there... is brought here?"

"Will they become one again, you mean?" Doc Man shrugged. "I really don't know. This was unprecedented." He glanced at his father once, then averted his eyes as well; even if the damage always healed itself, watching his obsessive self-mutilation wasn't pleasant. "Some days I worry that maybe that's why he's like this. That what came up here... isn't complete. That he doesn't have the part of him that's capable of rational thinking right now."

"I don't think so." Light shook his head. "No... that was what convinced me that this is Albert. This is the friend I lost. When I saw his eyes, I knew that what he did, what he does... is because he's trying to cope with what he became. With becoming something far worse than any of the madmen and monsters who we dealt with in our younger days. One of which he killed himself." He finally glanced at the object of their discussion, eyes filled with sorrow. "Dan Grevis was his name. Did I ever tell you about that?"

"That was the time the U.S. Government tried press-ganging you two, right?" Doc Man recalled. "I remember that. You know, I don't think any of us kids ever realized just how much you two went through while we were alive. Not really. Even when we heard the stories, we didn't really think of it on the same level as what we were doing."

"Well, there weren't quite so many duels to the death involved," Dr. Light admitted. "But the times certainly were just as troubled, regardless." He smiled then. "If there's one upside to my time being past... it's seeing all of them again. Now that Trenton's joined us, the gang's all here." His smile died. "Or at least, we will be once Darwin finishes his sentence. Assuming he even wants to join us, after how much he's changed."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Doc Man told him. "Something about this place... it makes it easier to remember the good times, instead of the bad ones. Easier to forgive, if not to forget. To move on. Look at the two of us. How likely was it that we'd be sitting here shooting the shit like this before we died? Ever?"

"I thought we got along fairly well that time you kidnapped me," Dr. Light pointed out, and Doc Man winced.

"I am really sorry about that. I was a different person, then."

"Literally, as I recall," Dr. Light cracked, and despite himself, Doc Man snorted a laugh. "The past aside, though, we are family, nephew. Not to mention our mutual interests." He lowered his head. "Although if we're talking about what's owed, I think it's I who is indebted to you."

"Huh?" Doc Man blinked, caught off guard.

"I never thanked you," Dr. Light explained. "For covering for me, when I did go down there, after Eurasia's fall. Official story aside, I never would have been able to pull that off without your help. Thank you, nephew."

"Tch." Doc Man glanced away, scratching his bald head, embarrassed. "You're family, and so's the kid. I never got what that meant until I came up here, but now I do. That wasn't his time to die, and somebody had to do something. We were the only ones who were able and willing." He sighed heavily. "I just wish I knew what the side effects are doing to him now."

"It's begun, then?" Dr. Light asked.

"Yeah." Doc Man nodded grimly. "Even his doctor's noticed it. They still haven't connected the dots as to what it is, though. The energy's building up, but it hasn't reached the point where his body's started to change just yet. Depending on the way it goes down there, who knows how long that's going to take."

"Is it like what happened to you, when you took up your new line of work?" Dr. Light raised an eyebrow. "What was it like, when that first happened? I've always been curious."

"Kind of, but not really." Doc Man shrugged. "With us, most of the changes happen while we're unconscious. As soon as we die the final death. I didn't wake up until after. It's mostly the eyes, for Reapers. Seeing what others cannot is fifty percent of it. And we still retain the form we feel most comfortable in, like any other soul."

"What will happen to X, then?" The Doctor said softly, looking out over the world he'd spent so many years healing and protecting. "What is my son becoming, because of what I did to him when I prolonged his life?"

"I wish I could tell you," Doc Man said somberly. "If I knew myself, I would. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Just like always." Dr. Light sighed.

"Our time is past," Doc Man reminded him. "All we can do now is trust in those who remain. Trust in Mega Man X, and in Zero Omega, and in all those who follow them to do what none of us were ever able to."

The old man stood up.

It took a moment for both of them to register it, and when they did, they turned their heads slowly, almost as if disbelieving. And yet, what they saw was not a man consumed in insane self-loathing. What stood before them now, though he shook like a leaf with every breath, was one whose body-or perhaps soul-was weak, but whose eyes were filled with determination.

"Zero," Doctor Albert Wily said softly, steadily, staring not at his own hands, but straight ahead. "Zero Omega. My son."

"Yes, Albert," Dr. Light said cautiously, not yet moving. "Your youngest son. Do you remember?"

"I remember," Dr. Wily replied, still not looking at either of them. "My youngest. He still lives. Him, and his brother, King... and their sister."

"They do," Doc Man agreed. "Down there. For now."

"No." Dr. Wily whispered, and though his tone was still quiet, the sheer force of will in his voice caused both of their eyes to widen. And then he began walking forward, one step at a time, slow and steady. "Not for now. This is not the end. This will not be the end."

"Dad, wait." Doc Man held out a hand, but didn't move towards him. "Look, I get what you're saying. Where you're coming from. But you're dead. We're all dead here."

"My son..." Wily finally turned to look at him, sorrow etched upon his ancient features. "Because of my sins... my madness... you and your brother both died before your time. I should have given you both lives full of hope... instead, I gave you nothing but despair. The same despair which has haunted your siblings for every moment since they opened their eyes, and still does."

"It wasn't your fault, Albert." Dr. Light reached out a hand as well, as Dr. Wily continued walking towards the precipice ahead of them. "It was that terrible accident when we tested teleportation that-"

"It was my fault, Tom," Dr. Wily snarled, lowering his head and pausing for a moment. "Even before that, I was already crossing lines I never should have. All that my madness did was make me stop caring about how far I went. And now, because of that, the world bleeds once more, as do my children and yours. Our children, Tom." He started walking again, and as he did, the tattered, ragged clothes he wore began to repair themselves until he was once more clad in the immaculate garb he had always worn as a human.

"I have heard that in this place, in time, that all sins are forgiven," he continued, both speaking and walking, and neither of them made any move towards him, even as he approached the edge. "That no damnation is truly eternal, that with repentance will come eventual absolution. Perhaps. Personally, I can think of a few people who would never deserve that, no matter how long their suffering, myself among them. But even if I am forsaken, they are not. Not yet. It may be too late to stop what is happening... but I will not simply sit here and watch."

And then, before either of them could stop him, he hurled himself over the edge of the afterlife, and fell.

"God fucking damn it all!" Doc Man erupted, running forward too late to stop him. "How do you people keep doing that?"

"Don't ask me." Dr. Light shrugged helplessly. "I worked in robotics and networking, not in..." He frowned thoughtfully. "Necrology? Morilogy? What would you call the study of... this?"

"Do I look like I have a degree in this shit?" Doc Man yelled, standing at the edge and staring down after his creator.

"Relax," Dr. Light told him, walking up as well. "You'll be able to track him, right?"

"Sure I will," Doc Man snapped, still looking down. "But the space between is strictly a no-passing lane. I won't be able to catch him until he actually arrives. Son of a bitch."

"I never knew your grandmother, but I'm still fairly sure she didn't deserve that," Dr. Light commented mildly, and Doc Man twitched.

"Fuck it all," he groaned. "Garfield was right about Mondays. I'm going after him. Don't even think about making a run for it when I'm not looking, or I swear, I will drag you back by the face this time." Without waiting for a response, he hurled himself down towards the planet after Dr. Wily, as Dr. Light watched him fall. He continued to watch as the glow of life that emanated from the world below began to fade, his thoughts a mystery to all but himself.

As the lives of those who had survived Eurasia's fall began to flicker out.