Chapter Twelve: страдание
Kalinka Cossack had a problem, and this time, there was nothing she could do to get out of it.
The walls of the holding cell she had been tossed in were solid. The air vents were too thin to fit her fingers through, though she probably wouldn't be able to pry them free anyway. The door was sealed tight, not even a window to peer through. There was likely a camera watching her in some corner, but it was well hidden. This was a room made to hold Mega Man, not a teenage girl. There was nothing but the hard, cold ground to sit on, but she had some luck—there were a frightening pair of shackles strapped to the wall that her captors could've strapped her to, but decided she wasn't enough of a threat for.
And they were right. She was helpless in this situation. She'd spent a solid hour kicking and screaming at the door, and the next with her ear pressed to it, trying desperately to hear what was happening outside the prison cell. When both of those had failed, she'd tucked herself into a corner and tried not to cry.
She failed at that, too.
Kalinka didn't notice the shadows twisting on the opposite wall until Shadow Man stepped through them, his strange shadows settling into a normal shape behind him. She jerked backwards, banging her head on the wall. Cursing, she clutched her head and glared daggers at the Robot Master. She wasn't going to let him know she was scared.
Shadow Man waited patiently until she was done, and tossed a wool blanket at her feet.
"What's that for?" Kalinka managed to say, recoiling from it.
Shadow Man tilted his head. His expression was unreadable. His expression was probably always unreadable, and she bet he was pretty smug about it.
"It is cold in this cell," he said. "It wasn't built for humans."
"Nice of you," Kalinka muttered. She didn't want to touch the blanket, but she was cold. Reluctantly, she wrapped it around her shoulders, scowling at him. He was, to her irritation, right. It was warm.
"It isn't a kindness," he replied. "I'm trying to decide what to do with you."
Kalinka froze. There was nothing threatening or cruel about Shadow Man's tone. It wasn't even particularly cold, just detached. The Robot Master watched the series of thoughts cross her face before settling, cross-legged, on the floor.
"I won't kill you," he said. "It's much too late for that."
"Do you want a thank you?" she snapped.
Shadow Man sighed. "You don't understand what you've done."
"Enlighten me," Kalinka snarled.
Shadow Man kept his hands on his knees, but he seemed like he would very much like to pinch the brim of his nose.
"Do you know why you trusted Proto Man?" he asked.
"Are you mocking me?" Kalinka demanded. "Believe me, I'm well aware of how foolish it was to trust the word of a Wilybot."
"Proto Man isn't a Wilybot."
"I may have been foolish," she said, eyes narrowed. "But I'm not stupid. Everyone knows Wily built Proto Man—"
"Yes, he built Proto Man," Shadow Man said impatiently. "After stealing his plans, parts, and much of his coding from Dr. Light. Proto Man and his brother are so alike because he was always meant to be Mega Man's prototype."
"What does that mean, exactly?" she asked. It never occurred to her that Proto Man might not truly belong to Wily after all.
"Do not misunderstand," Shadow Man replied. "Proto Man's impatience, his ruthlessness—those are no doubt Wily's hand, perhaps unintentional errors in how his coding interprets problem solving. His concern for the well-being of others, his loneliness—I believe that is Dr. Light's signature, an attempt to humanize him. It was a well-intentioned gesture, though deeply flawed."
Kalinka wrapped the blanket tighter, still wary. "I don't know why you're telling me this."
Shadow Man studied her in silence for a moment. "What would you do if Wily died?" he asked.
Kalinka laughed despite herself. "Celebrate? Like everyone else?"
"What do you think his robots would do?"
She scowled at him. "He stole most of them, so I doubt they'd be choked up over it."
"You are correct," Shadow Man said. "Though most Robot Masters have adjusted to their life under Wily, they would not be too sorry when that ends—not even those he built with his own hands. Do you know who genuinely would grieve for Wily?"
Kalinka shrugged half-heartedly, but she was watching Shadow Man with a frown.
"Proto Man," he said. "Proto Man takes care of Wily when he is sick. He makes his meals when he forgets to eat. Proto Man talks Wily down from his tantrums and out of his depressions. Proto Man is desperate for Wily's affection and approval—and has to settle for being an embodiment of his hubris. But that has worked, so far. He has maintained a delicate balance of appeasing a mad man without realizing he was doing it, because he's never known anything different."
"But that… changed?" Kalinka asked slowly. She was gradually learning how to read Shadow Man. His face wasn't stone. He chose, instead, to limit himself to microexpressions, a slight widening of his eyes, a small upturn of the corner of his lips. She could be imagining it, but he seemed pleased she was following along.
"This has to do with Proto Man playing turncoat, doesn't it?" she continued. "Because of that, Governor Deacon hired my dad to make GAMMA, but I don't… Why did Proto Man agree to work with me? My father is a genius, but if I found a way to break into the system, Wily would too."
"Why do you think he did it?" Shadow Man asked.
Kalinka thought about it, pressing her fingers to her lips. "Playing good gave Proto a chance to be on his own," she said slowly. "He had to make his own choices, even if he was still following Wily's plan. And if GAMMA worked, it would've taken that away. He would be trapped here."
"And perhaps that would still be fine," Shadow Man replied. "Perhaps Proto Man would have lived with it. He always had before. It was Wily who panicked."
"I still don't understand," Kalinka said.
"Proto Man deals with his fear like he deals with all of his emotions," Shadow Man said. "He ignores it. Wily, on the other hand, overreacts. He lashes out, and doubles down when that doesn't work."
"I don't care," Kalinka said stubbornly, but she gripped the blanket tighter.
"You do," Shadow Man said simply. "Because you are his friend, maybe the only one he has. I know you can understand how Wily would view that as a threat. How he would realize your friendship was a chance for the one robot he cannot allow himself to lose to choose a different life."
Kalinka said nothing. She didn't want to hear what came next. She didn't want to feel for Proto Man, not after everything he'd done.
"Wily hit him," Shadow Man said softly. "Perhaps he didn't mean to, but he did, and it won him the obedience he wanted. He will do it again, Kalinka. He will make sure it hurts. There is no going back from this."
Kalinka swallowed hard. "What am I supposed to do about it?"
Shadow Man sighed, standing. "I still do not know. Perhaps this was a waste of my time."
He turned toward the door, and paused. "Your brothers were very unhappy here. They retained enough to know what they were without. Wily did not care enough to notice. Proto Man did."
"What—what does that mean?" Kalinka asked.
Shadow Man glanced over his shoulder. "Wily has lost Robot Masters due to his own carelessness. He has lost them due to his cruelty. But there were some who were lost because they were placed in a convenient position for that to happen. There's only one besides Wily who could make that happen."
Turning away, Shadow Man walked through his summoned darkness before Kalinka could say another word.
#
Proto Man came late. Kalinka had wrapped herself in the blanket the best she could, but sleep never came. When the door opened and Proto Man stepped through, she was already waiting for him, mirroring Shadow Man's earlier posture.
Proto Man stopped, staring down at her. "Someone gave you a blanket," he said, sounding relieved.
"I'm not going to forgive you if you're here to apologize," Kalinka said. "So don't bother."
Proto Man flinched. "There was nothing I could do."
"Does Wily know you're here?" she asked.
Proto Man was silent for a moment. "He's asleep."
There were several horrible things she could say, all on the tip of her tongue. She wanted so badly to say them, to call him nothing but a dog, a creep and a liar who deserved everything he got. But the more she thought about what Shadow Man said, the more she remembered the look on his face when Wily struck him. The look of someone who's world had been shattered and didn't know how to pick up the pieces.
"This is the first time he's hit you, isn't it?" she asked.
His whole body recoiled at that, like she had hit him. Once she would have found that very satisfying. Now she just felt sad.
"I'm sorry," she added quietly.
Proto Man drew a shaky breath, like breathing hurt. "My brother will come save you," he said thickly. "That's what he's good at."
"You can't—you can't just pretend it didn't happen," Kalinka said. "Please, don't—don't do this to yourself."
He turned away from her. "Why do you care?"
She chewed her lip. "You're my friend."
"The person you were friends with doesn't exist," he snapped. "He can't exist. Just—just let it go, Kalinka. Go home to Russia with your family, and don't come back."
He moved to leave, but she couldn't let him. Not like this.
"Did you save my brothers?" she blurted out.
Proto Man frowned at her. "What?"
"Shadow Man said—he said you made it possible for them to be recovered."
"Shadow Man needs to learn how to keep his big mouth shut," Proto Man said through teeth, stepping closer to Kalinka. "Don't you ever repeat that, understand? It doesn't matter what I did or didn't do. You got them back, so forget about it."
She stared hard at him. "Why didn't you save Ptolemy?"
She didn't think he was going to answer, his hands flexing and unflexing into fists. But he sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Kali, I tried to tell you earlier. He can't be saved. Pharaoh Man is—"
"Here."