Title: Infinite Gravity
Part: 10/18
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Rockman & Blues, Netto & Enzan
Notes: Set a good five years after canon. This is slightly AU in that I've played fast and loose with canon versions and background details - it's mostly based on the anime timeline, but there are some significant game and manga details in here too, as well as some made up stuff like new viruses and attacks. Please be warned that this fic contains shameless fanon cliches, because they are relevant to the plot.
Infinite Gravity
10.
This must, Netto had concluded grimly sometime during that first shell-shocked day, have been how Enzan felt. Except not, because while Enzan had borne the burden of guilt for what had happened to Blues, at least he'd known. Not knowing, not being able to feel Rockman even as a tenuous thread of connection – that was the worst.
Staring at the ceiling of his room, Netto listened to the ticking of the clock and wondered what was happening at Sci-Labs. He'd been sent home – dragged home, really, by Enzan and Manabe-san – sometime after dawn on Sunday, when caffeine and nervous energy had finally given out.
It was Monday now. Netto considered the fact that he would undoubtedly be missed at school, and couldn't find it in himself to care. No one had even mentioned classes, but Enzan had promised to take him to the airport later, to meet Laika.
A door slammed downstairs, undoubtedly his mother returning from shopping. Sighing, Netto rolled off his bed before she could come and chase him up, wandering out to the balcony. The sky was unpleasantly grey, threatening rain, and thunder growled somewhere in the distance. Gritting his teeth against the hot prickle of unshed tears that he refused to give in to, Netto swallowed fear and helplessness, clenching his fists until his short nails dug into his palms. Abruptly, as the first fat drops of rain began to fall, splatting on the brickwork, he swore, whirling and taking out all of his rage and frustration in a knuckle-splitting punch to the wall of the house.
"...ow." Weirdly, it was the thought of what Rockman would say that finally unravelled the knot of stewed emotions. Cracking a tired grin at his own stupidity, Netto leaned against the house, letting the rain trickling down the wall wash away the thin scarlet stain of his blood. I'm sorry, Nii-san. I should have known something was wrong.
Examining his bruised and bleeding hand, Netto winced. Mama was going to get him good for that one, to say nothing of Papa and Enzan. Licking blood off his fingers, he tugged his bandanna off, knotting it clumsily around the damaged hand. The rain was coming down thick and fast now, plastering his hair to his face. Scraping it out of his eyes, Netto ducked back into his room, contemplating heading over to Sci-Labs despite the weather. Enzan could find him there as easily as here.
Papa had been right, though – there wasn't much he could do at the labs right now except get in the way. A Net-Op without a Navi was no use to anyone. Smiling mirthlessly, Netto stuffed his hands into his pockets, wandering down the stairs at a pace entirely unlike his usual headlong rush.
"Hey Mama," he offered absently, heading into the living room with vague intentions of watching TV, since his own screen played no channels, only video disks.
"Netto!" His mother popped her head out of the kitchen, gasping in dismay at the sight of him. "Have you been standing out in the rain? Honestly! Let me get a towel..."
"It's fine, Mama." Netto poked the TV on with a toe as he passed, collapsing on the couch.
"It is not." His mother bustled in with a bath towel from the closet, clicking her tongue. "Look, you're dripping everywhere!"
"Oh." Blinking, Netto accepted the towel, ducking his head into it and scrubbing at his hair. "Sorry," he muttered, muffled by the fabric.
His mother sighed, the couch dipping a little as she perched beside him, her hand warm and gentle on his shoulder. "Oh, Netto-kun, it will be all right. You have faith in Papa and your friends, right? I know Rockman does."
"Yeah," Netto began, blinking owlishly as she took the towel back and started folding it. Before he could say more, though he had no idea what, the doorbell rang sharply, startling both of them.
"Who could that be?" his mother exclaimed, in a tone of voice that said she at least suspected. Jumping up before Netto could volunteer, she headed out to the door.
"Hello? Ah, Meiru-chan, good afternoon!" Netto winced.
"Hi, Hikari-san. Is Netto sick? He wasn't at school today..."
"Well, not sick exactly – come on in, Meiru-chan, and you can see for yourself. He's in the living room." There was no escape. Belatedly, as his childhood friend appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips as she examined him, Netto realised that it might have been a good idea to let people know what had happened.
"You look like someone died." Chewing her lips in a familiarly frustrated gesture, Meiru stooped over him, pressing her hand to his forehead. "Are you sure you're not sick? You have a chill..."
Netto shrugged her off irritably. "There's nothing wrong with me. Rockman's gone."
"What?!" Caught in the act of standing back up, Meiru froze, eyes widening, then had to flail for balance as she began to topple over.
"Whoa!" Netto grabbed her by the shoulders in order to avoid getting a lapful of Meiru-chan. "Watch out!"
"Sorry, sorry." Meiru straightened up, dusting her skirt off huffily before plonking herself down beside him. "What do you mean, Rockman's gone? You're joking, right?"
"I wish." Netto folded his arms across his chest, wincing as his bruised hand twinged. "He was stolen. Right out of my PET. On my birthday," he added glumly – that was the icing on the cake he'd never got. Mama had donated it to her coffee morning yesterday.
"No way." Meiru gaped at him; was brought up short by a distinctly shaky question from the PET slung phone-style around her neck.
"He's okay, right?"
"...I don't know, Roll-chan." Netto clenched his fists, then swore. "Crap. Ow." Gingerly, he shook out his bandanna-wrapped hand, attempting to keep it out of Meiru's line of vision. "We'll find him, though. Everyone's working on it – even Laika's flying in today."
"Well, of course." Meiru nodded firmly, lifting her PET to speak to her Navi. "We'll help too, right, Roll-chan?"
"Yep," Roll chirped, flicking her projector on in a cascade of pixels. "Just say the word, Netto-kun."
"Uh." Netto blanked for a moment. "Well, I guess you could start asking around the Navis in the west mall area? It was about 12:35 on Saturday – maybe someone saw something."
"Right." Roll-chan nodded her little pink head seriously. "I'll get everyone to help."
"I guess this means the birthday party's off this weekend, hm?" Meiru asked; Netto shrugged.
"We'll have it when Rock's back safe." He refused to contemplate the possibility of any other outcome.
"Yeah." Meiru smiled bravely, putting a hand on his shoulder in what was probably intended as a supportive gesture. "Netto-kun, what's wrong with your hand?"
Crap. Netto twitched away from her. "Nothing," he tried, eyeing the stubborn set of her jaw warily.
"Let me see," Meiru insisted, leaning across him with absolutely no regard for his personal space in order to capture his hand. Netto squawked, attempting to wriggle away, but she'd already caught him and was unwrapping his clumsy bandanna bandage.
"Meiru-chan!" he protested as she tugged his hand into the light.
"Honestly, Netto, what did you do to yourself?" She was glaring as she wrapped the bandanna back around his knuckles. Netto squirmed, then yelped as she pulled it tight.
"Nothing!" The doorbell rang again, and he could hear his mother's light footsteps hurrying from the kitchen.
"Like hell." Meiru set her jaw mulishly, refusing to let him take his hand back. "Netto." That was the I Am Your Childhood Friend look. Netto winced.
"Fine, I hit the wall, okay?" he muttered, face heating.
"You – oh, for goodness' sake." Meiru clicked her tongue at him, sighing as though she was the injured one. "Honestly. Boys." Her grip on his hand gentled, though.
"Ready to go?" Enzan's voice from the doorway startled Netto halfway out of his skin; he gaped at this sudden apparition for a moment before belatedly putting two and two together with the doorbell that had rung.
"Enzan!"
"Hi." Meiru-chan gave a little wave, smiling. "Is there any news, Enzan-kun?"
"Not yet." Enzan flicked a glance to her, nodding so briefly that it was barely an acknowledgement of her presence. "Laika's plane is landing in half an hour."
Netto frowned; there was something slightly out of tune between Enzan's expression and his tone of voice. He reclaimed his hand from Meiru's grasp with relief, jumping to his feet. "We're going to the airport," he elaborated, glancing at Enzan. "Meiru-chan can come too, right?"
"Ah, I'd love to, but I have homework." Smoothing her skirt, Meiru rose gracefully to her feet, glancing between the two of them. "I'll collect your assignments for you, Netto, but you'd better do them. And I'll let everyone know to start asking around." She patted Netto's shoulder on her way to the door, where Enzan stepped aside for her. "We'll find him, Netto-kun, so no more disagreements with the walls, okay?"
"Thanks, Meiru-chan," Netto muttered sourly as she left. She wasn't going to let him live that down, was she?
"Walls?" Enzan queried in a dubious tone of voice, frowning at him. Netto shrugged uncomfortably, lifting his bandaged hand in illustration.
"Ah." Enzan merely nodded, obviously Getting It. Netto grinned in relief, shuffling out into the hall in search of his shoes. It was good to have someone who understood.
Jealousy, Enzan had decided long ago, was an unpleasant waste of time and energy. It was therefore a double irritant that he was having difficulty banishing the persistent memory of Sakurai Meiru clutching at Netto's hand. Grimly, he turned his mind to the real problem at hand, recounting the day's progress to Netto as his driver took them by the most direct route to the airport.
"Your father is still working on analysing the code samples isolated from the exploit program and the virus. Meijin and Manabe-san are investigating sales of the type of obsolete equipment that seems to have been used to create them. And the Net Police have been working through potential access nodes, indexing pathways."
"Right." Netto bit his lip, watching buildings flash by outside the tinted windows before turning back to Enzan. "Enzan – thanks for all this." Their eyes met for a moment before Enzan looked away, refusing to fidget. The bitter taste of envy was suddenly gone as if it had never been.
"Don't thank me yet," he muttered, studying the scenery himself for a moment until he was sure the heat in his face had faded. "I spoke to Laika before he boarded. We're taking a trip into the Undernet later."
"Eh?!" Netto sat bolt upright, staring at him. With his bandanna wrapped around his hand, his hair flopped messily into his eyes. Enzan resisted the urge to reach out and push it back for him. "You don't have to –"
"We agreed it's the best chance we have for information," Enzan said shortly as the car pulled into the priority waiting lane at the airport. "Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same. Come on."
"Of course I would." Netto scrambled out of the limo after him, face clouding momentarily. Enzan, watching, could clearly see pain cross his eyes, but he shook it off, smiling shakily. "I'm grateful, okay, but it won't help me or Rockman if you and Blues get hurt."
Leading the way into the airport, Enzan quirked a grin back at him. "Did you forget who you're talking to? We'll hold you to that rematch, when he's back." When, not if, and the way Netto's eyes lit up was worth anything.
"This way." It seemed to be peak time; Arrivals was packed with people, clamouring, waving and holding signs. Stepping into a momentary lull, Enzan was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a familiar uniform; Laika remained taller than both he and Netto.
"Laikaaaa!" Unreserved as ever, Netto had no compunctions about jumping up and down, waving a hand in the air as he hollered for their friend's attention at the top of his voice. Shaking his head tolerantly, Enzan rolled his eyes at Netto's antics, but had to admit that the tactic was effective; Laika was heading in their direction.
"What?" Catching his expression, Netto blinked expectantly at him. Enzan shook his head again, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Nothing."
"Huh. Whatever." Netto eyed him sideways, then shrugged, turning as Laika approached. "Hi."
"Netto, Enzan." Laika swung his bag off his shoulder, face sober and professional as he glanced between them. "Has there been further news?"
"Nothing." Netto hunched his shoulders, jaw visibly clenching as he toed at the ground. "Thanks for coming."
"It's nothing." Laika glanced between them again, and Enzan took the hint, leading the way back to the car. Faintly, he could hear Blues greeting Searchman in clipped tones; that was another worry. He seemed to be taking Rockman's absence worse than Enzan would have predicted, if he'd ever spared a thought for such an outlandish circumstance. While Enzan could read between the lines there, he wasn't sure that Blues, designed very much as a warrior Navi, possessed the same level of emotional self-awareness. Hopefully, Enzan thought as he sat back, letting Netto describe the situation to Laika as they sped toward Sci-Labs, this evening's exercise would allow Blues some outlet for his frustration.
"Ready." Alighting on a flat and featureless cyber-plain well outside even the lesser-travelled areas of the Densan public network, Blues looked up as first one then two viewing windows opened overhead, Searchman dropping to one knee opposite him with his scope down and rifle already out.
"Weak point confirmed," he agreed shortly, examining the panels of the grid. "Ready."
"Got it," Enzan-sama echoed overhead. Blues flicked a glance up, pleased to see his Operator's face alert and predatory as he held up a pair of chips. "Battle chip: Variable Sword, double slot in!"
Accepting the weapon data, Blues locked eyes with Searchman for a fraction of a second before they both kicked off the ground in unison.
"Scope Gun!"
"Sonic Boom!"
As everyone who made a habit of frequenting the Undernet knew, the easiest way to get there was by way of the Forgotten Zones, where viruses chipping away at the network created conduits between the cyberworld and its hidden layers. The quickest, dirtiest way, however, was to find a weak spot in the cyberscape and blast your way through by main force. It was, all three Operators had concluded after the Commissioner had briefed them on the case's progress, no time for niceties.
Blues really couldn't find it in himself to disagree. As the smoke and pixel debris cleared, revealing the sizeable, jagged hole that they'd blown in the fabric of the network, he swapped out the Variable Sword chips for his standard blade, staring into the depths. Nothing but darkness, and the faint, far-off glitter of stray data.
"Enzan-sama?" he prompted, hearing the viewing windows pop closed above. Without Rockman there, Netto would take on the task of spotting for them, watching their backs from a Sci-Labs terminal that had been slaved to their PETs.
"Yes." Enzan's voice took on a curious echo as he moved into synchronisation with Blues. It felt a little like Cross Fusion, only here the sensation was of Enzan overlapping him, boosting stats and offering protection. They breathed as one...
"Full Synchro." Netto's voice, tense and distant, told them what they already knew; Blues looked up, seeing Laika behind Searchman's eyes.
"Let's go." Sword held defensively before him, he stepped forward, pushing off the edge and diving headlong into the depths.
"Twelve seconds." Netto's voice was noticeably fainter down here. Blues narrowed his eyes as stray panels tumbled past, only the wind that whipped at his hair giving a true indication of the speed of his descent.
"Ten seconds to contact." Searchman was a rust-and-green comet, matching his vector a few lengths away.
"Five seconds." He could see the faint shimmer of a distant surface, coming up fast.
"Three, two, one –"
They hit with enough force to buckle panels and throw off great clouds of displaced pixels. Sword held ready, Blues waited for the dust to settle, feeling Enzan's wary anticipation mesh with his own.
"Viruses incoming," Netto's distant voice warned them; Blues felt Enzan slot in a LongSword chip for backup. "Small fry, eight – no, ten of them."
Easy enough. Blues leapt into motion, slicing into the ragged pack of mismatched viruses. Cutting straight through a lantern-bearing Sword Knight, he heard the sharp cracking of Searchman's rifle as he and Laika sniped the stragglers. Running the last dented Mettool neatly through, Blues straightened, looking around with the strange doubled sight of Full Synchro.
Desolate, Enzan-sama commented silently; Blues agreed. The featureless plain of the Undernet spread out around them in all directions, rising in the distance to mountainous peaks where data had evolved over time into almost organic shapes. On the face of it, it was hard to imagine how they would find any information about Rockman here, but Blues was well aware that it only seemed as though they were the only living data on the grid. The Undernet's residents were a powerful, wary bunch, and Blues echoed Enzan's quiet confidence that their spectacular arrival had already been noted.
"I give it five minutes," Netto spoke up cockily, though his voice remained tense and drawn.
"That long?" Searchman responded dryly, and indeed as Blues turned towards him there was a sudden flaring disturbance in the fabric of the network ahead of them.
Hell. That unrestrained energy signature, powerful enough to knock a lesser Navi into stasis, was instantly recognisable. "Look out!" Blues shouted, even as Enzan, back in the physical world, called his name.
"Muramasa Style!"
The centre of his own massive flux of power, Blues snatched his sword out of the air as Forte stepped through his impromptu gateway, cloak billowing.
"Oh?" Impassive violet eyes took in and dismissed Searchman, kneeling with his rifle locked on target, and moved to Blues, who had his sword raised and ready to strike. "You." Colours flared from the gate behind him, which was, Blues knew, a hole ripped through the fabric of the Undernet itself. "I knew I recognised that battle aura." Forte lifted a hand, a ball of pulsing purple energy growing rapidly in his palm. "Explain yourself. Where's your blue shadow?"
Choosing to ignore the provocative phrasing, Blues watched Forte's eyes rather than the gathering force strike. "That's what we'd like to know," he bit out tersely. "His program has been stolen."
Forte's eyes narrowed. "Humans," he snarled, jumping immediately to his own conclusions, which Blues and Enzan had to admit probably weren't entirely incorrect. "Why are you here?" Forte demanded, fingers clenching around his ball of energy with a warning crackle.
"For information." Searchman spoke up in neutral tones, face closed and wary. Forte spared him another brief glance before ignoring him utterly, all his attention on Blues.
"If he was here, I would know." Forte bared sharp teeth in a grin. "And I would destroy him."
"Like hell." To Blues' surprise – how had he managed that, at this distance? – a viewing window opened overhead, Netto glaring narrow-eyed down at the black-and-gold Navi. "Forte, if you know who took him –"
"Then I would also destroy them, human." Forte threw back his cloak, pulling another ball of energy out of nowhere. "Rockman is my prey! Now get out of here!" And he struck, the overwhelming power of the attack forcing Blues and Searchman out of the network entirely.
Thrown violently back into his PET, Blues stared up at his Operator's grim face as Netto yelped in the background, his terminal overloading in a flash of light and sparks. Laika was staring at his own PET, looking astonished.
"Well," Enzan said finally, as the Commissioner dragged a fire extinguisher to Netto's aid. "That went about as well as could be expected." He frowned, bringing up a diagnostic utility. Silently, Blues took control of it from him, checking his own and the PET's systems. "I can't say I was expecting Forte, though."
"He's just like that." Flames successfully warded off, Netto left the now-inoperable terminal, coming over to peer into first Searchman's then Blues' PET screens. "Everyone okay?"
"Fine." Blues dismissed the diagnostic, nodding fractionally in confirmation as Enzan looked a question at him.
"No damage." Laika looked up from checking Searchman as Netto dropped into the chair between them. "Where does that leave us?"
Blues listened with half of his attention as they fell back to the same old discussions. Forte's words – Rockman is my prey! - refused to leave his mind, striking an almost automatic chord of pure denial. For all their friendship, Rockman was also very much his rival. Forte might be akin to a force of nature – and Blues knew all too well that it was beyond futile to try and dissuade him from any course of action – but the thought of giving Rockman up to him was, simply, not to be borne. If anyone was going to defeat Rockman, it was going to be him.
Satisfied with this rationalisation of the situation, Blues turned his full attention back to the discussion in progress. The sooner they recovered Rockman, the sooner they could get on with their promised battle.
Three days, seven hours and twenty-seven minutes. Rockman paced the limits of the cage, turning and turning as he was halted in every direction by the bars. He was exhausted, and desperately in need of some shutdown time to defragment and recharge, but he refused to make himself that vulnerable in an unknown system. Nevertheless, Rockman realised, he had perhaps half an hour remaining before his self-regulation systems took over and forced shutdown.
With that in mind, he really should be looking for a way out, but Rockman had concluded after the first frenzied hours – and the first session of invasive, not-quite-painful testing – that there was no way out. Whoever had built the cage, and presumably the entire system, was a master far beyond his and Netto's level.
After that initial realisation, he'd spent several hours huddled over his knees in the centre of the cell, indulging his depression by wallowing in miserable thoughts of Netto, their parents and friends – and, always, Blues. Privately, in the secret depths of his core, Rockman had promised himself that if he got out of here, he would Do Something about Blues, whatever that might involve. Having come to this decision, he had resumed pacing the cell, waiting grimly for whatever his captors decided to throw at him next.
"You'll have to recharge at some point, you know." The doll-like Navi was back, staring eyelessly at him. Turning to face it, Rockman narrowed his eyes, ignoring its words.
"Why do you want my data?" he demanded, watching its eerily jerky movements in a futile attempt to pick up some kind of reaction.
"For the Infinity Engine." The Navi gestured, and Rockman flinched as the scanners in the ceiling started up again with that mind-numbing hum.
"What's that?" he pressed urgently, taking a step forward so that he was just shy of contact with the bars. To his horror, the Navi actually laughed, the sound incredibly wrong in its annoying monotone.
"Why should I tell you? Navis like you will be obsolete soon." The humming rose to fever pitch, and Rockman suppressed a wince, holding himself perfectly still as a blue-white light enveloped him. It felt like he was being stripped down, line by line of his code laid bare and examined by prying eyes, but he had learned early on that the Navi was right. Moving made the discomfort a thousand times worse as every command and impulse was caught and examined by the scanner.
Gritting his teeth, Rockman forced himself to endure the intrusive probing. Even exhausted, he reassured himself firmly, he was strong, had endured far worse. To his horror, though, the desperate need for recharge made his control over his emotional programming unstable, and the scan – or whoever was directing it – seemed to zero in on that. Unable to prevent it from rifling through his most personal feelings, from fist-clenching hatred to core-deep love, Rockman cried out in protest as images were dragged up to float across his mind. Netto high-fiving his holo-projected self after a victory. The cherished photographic image of Haruka and Yuichirou smiling over the heads of their infant twins. The memory of Blues turning to him with a smile, mid-battle, hair a shining silver aura flaring about him.
"Oh?" The doll Navi tilted its head in a too-human gesture. "You think you're in love. How interesting."
Feeling utterly violated, Rockman gritted his teeth against the prickling surge of pain as he raised his arm and formed his buster, expending the last of his energy in a charged shot that crackled across the energy bars a fraction of a length in front of his blank, emotionless target.
"Useless," his captor observed dispassionately as error messages cascaded across his vision. The dry, toneless sound of its voice followed Rockman mercilessly down into blessed, pain-free unconsciousness.