Re:Introductions

Tron snapped back to reality.

"Tron?" Orion moved closer. "You can't be him. Tron was repurposed by Clu." Orion stepped back again and grabbed for his razor disc.

"Wait!" Sam pushed Orion back and stood in front of Tron. "He is Tron. He saved my life. And he saved my father's life." Orion put his disc away, but he wasn't convinced.

"Look," Orion said. "I'm not going to make up my mind one way or the other right now. But if it turns out that he's still Rinzler then I will personally derezz him myself. Let's go." They mounted their lightcycles. Orion lead the way.

Sam pulled up close to Tron. "Where are we going? Who are these people," he yelled. He was tired. He was also tired of being dragged along and told he couldn't fight. He already knew he could hold his own against programs that wanted to kill him, and he had no desire to continue being treated like a baby, even if his father was the mighty Kevin Flynn.

"These programs are programs I trained. They fought against Clu in the wars. Now they're fighting for a new revolution." Tron sounded distant. It wasn't quite the answer Sam had been looking for, but he took it. He didn't want to put more pressure on Tron. What he wanted most now, was just to go home. Leave the grid for a while and come back when he was better rested. He also missed Quorra. He wanted to see her, to remind himself that there were good things out there. Good things worth fighting for. He drifted to the back of the pack, letting Tron pull ahead of him.

"Sam," Orion pulled up beside him. "We're going to a safe house. We've come across some information that will help you."

"Who's we?" Sam asked.

"Tron didn't tell you? We're called Re:volution. We're loyal to you and your father. We're going to help you save the grid."

Sam wasn't sure what "save the grid" meant, but before he could ask, the programs arrived at a small alley in the heart of Tron City. Orion and the others dismounted and approached a hidden door. Orion knocked and a program opened a slot in the door, just wide enough to see out of.

"What's the password?" The voice of the program sounded gruff.

"Look, Aaron, you know its me..." Orion sounded annoyed.

"What's the password!" the program on the other side of the door repeated.

"Ok fine. I'm a monkey's uncle. You satisfied?" The other program started to laugh. It was more like a guffaw. "Get's em every time. Come in come in." The program opened the door and ushered them in. He was slightly overweight looking green program. He had a red beard and mustache and deep blue eyes. When he saw Tron, he looked quickly at Orion who nodded his head. Aaron said nothing and shut the door behind all of them.

They entered a large poorly lit room. The programs sat down around a long oval table. It reminded Sam of the board room at Encom. At the head of the table was a hooded program. Tron recognized it as a Monk program. Monk programs had existed in the old grid, but it was rare to see one these days. Tron wondered what it was doing here.

Aaron plopped down next to Cyphen, who sat across from Sam and Tron and next to K12. Orion took his seat next to the Monk program. Sitting next to Sam was a female program with pink circuits. She wasn't wearing a helmet, and she appeared to be in her teens. Sam wasn't sure why, but she seemed brimming with excitement that she was trying hard to conceal. She was practically bouncing in her seat.

"Hey guys before we get started," she said, "I just wanted to say how excited I am to actually get to meet Sam Flynn. I've wanted to meet him ever since he started battling in the grid wars." Orion and Cyphen sat there staring. She was going to play super-fan at a time like this? On the other side of the grid, Jayla smiled. She knew what it was like to be a fan like that. Especially of someone as yummy as Sam.

"Sam." She jumped up and down and turned to him. "It's totally awesome to meet you. My name's Lyta."

"She used to be a chat room program," said Orion by way of an explanation.

"Thanks. It's nice to meet you too. Lyta, right?" She nodded and smiled. Jayla could tell she was in heaven now that her favorite grid warrior knew her name. Sam, on the other hand, seemed oblivious. He was too tired to focus. In fact he had already let her name slip from his memory.

The room was tense. Sam thought it had a lot to do with the fact that Tron was sitting there with them. He was the obvious elephant in the conference room. "Ahem," Orion coughed and brought the meeting back into focus. Once he had everyone's attention, he began again.

"Hello to all of those who are new here. There isn't a lot of time to explain things to you, Sam, but we are on your side. We have been watching you and protecting you and your father's ambitions. As some of you know," he said, "we don't often come together like this. Given our current situation it's been too risky. But tonight we have no choice. So I think Cyphen should start by making the introductions." Cyphen stood.

"Good to see all of you," he started. "This is K12. I've been training her, and she's come a long way since we started working together. She's a user of sorts." Sam looked at the program. He realized who it was.

"Hey Sam." K12's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. But even through the helmet he could recognize who it was.

"Jayla?" Sam said.

"Yep, it's me." Sam was glad to hear the sound of a friendly voice. "I'm using one of the avatars." K12 gave Sam a thumbs up.

Cyphen continued. "She will be our eyes and ears in the real world. I would ask Sam to do that, but he has a different objective."

"You mean the keys?" Sam asked.

"Yes." Sam felt like he had a hundred questions. What were they really? What was this all leading to? "We have learned a great deal about them. But we can't use them ourselves. Apparently they were only made for you."

"About that." the monk program spoke from his position at the head of the table. His voice was warm, worn out as though he had spent many years on the grid. "I have some troubling news. May I share it now, or did you have something else in mind?"

"You mean more introductions?" Cyphen looked around the room. "Well I think it's safe to assume that we all know Sam Flynn."

"Hey," Sam said. He barely managed a smile.

"And Tron," Cyphen continued. Jayla could feel the tension in the room increase. Lyta clearly had strong feelings about Tron, since she was sitting in her chair now, her face red as though she were trying hard not to erupt like a kid volcano. Nobody wanted to speak. No one wanted to start off a conversation that might end in someone getting their head derezzed. "So no, I don't think we need any more introductions. Pastor, please continue."

The monk program began to speak.

"I am an old program. Very old. When I was younger my father told me stories about a hidden world beneath our own, a world of adventure and bravery, a world of legends. He called it the Underworld. He would sit at my bed and tell stories about a world that was like our own, only different. He would go on long into the night about how heroic programs battled in wars across a digital domain. How users were in constant communication with their programs, and now and again a user would walk among us. Things were purer, then, he told me."

Sam remembered when his father told him stories like that. It felt like eons ago. Maybe they were even the same stories. The monk program continued, and Sam shifted forward in his seat.

"Then one day, everything changed. There was a great evil that came and set a crack through the old world, not breaking it, only setting it on its path to ruin. Viruses, bugs, great evil creatures came alive and ate away at the very substance of life. The world collapsed in on itself. That old world became the Underworld, a world of death and destruction beneath our own. And had it not been for our Creator, we would not be here today. It is said that he raised us up from the ashes of that old world, to bring us to life and prosperity here in our new home.

"Now of course, I was a child then. I didn't believe in the tales. They were legends, of course, and they were nothing more. That was until recently. Our order sent scouts out to find information about the keys. Your keys, Sam. This is what they found." Pastor put a small data orb in the middle of the table.

The orb spread out into a visual of a small cave near the outlands. Three programs went into the cave. The orb followed them in like a camera. The programs headed down to the bottom of a series of caves that were interconnected. Data bats flew down from the ceiling and one of the programs brushed them aside.

When they reached the bottom of the cave, there was a huge silver door crafted from some unknown metal. The door had been cracked open, just slightly so a program could make their way through. The three programs entered through the crack in the door. Again the orb followed.

What Tron saw then made him gasp. It was the old grid. He should have expected it. He should have understood what Pastor had been talking about. They weren't legends. He had lived them.

The orb revealed a mass grave. There were bodies of programs strewn across the digital ground. The whole world was glowing with a sickly green light. Pools of polluted energy were everywhere. Firewalls had crumbled and shattered. He could see the form of a broken down recognizer. Tron felt a buzzing in the back of his mind. Something wasn't right. He heard a voice. It was softly screaming for help.

"Yori!"

"Yes, Tron. That's Yori. And she has the third key."