Chapter Seven

The bar isn't their normal one, no cops or other agents to provide a comforting background. But it's quiet, the tables well-space for private conversations, with few other customers to care about. Which is fortunate, because Agent Gilbert D. Stern was not a quiet man, even at his calmest.

"I'm telling you," Agent Stern says, thumping the table with his fist. "Light had something to do with it!"

I wince—as does Agent Roslyn Krantz as she scans the room before giving her partner an exasperated look. She's clearly heard this before.

"Okay, Gil," she says. "Why?"

"He opposed Proto Man's deactivation—"

"Which was justified, judging by how Deacon manipulated the situation," Krantz interrupts.

"And only turned over Proto Man's armor, not his body," Stern finishes.

"Also his right," Krantz replies. "Wily stole him from Dr. Light to begin with. Legally he had grounds to keep it."

"I'll accept that," Stern says begrudgingly. "But why was the footage from Proto Man's escape erased? Why did the shield technology of that mystery Robot Master end up in the hands of the Russian military?"

I did wonder what deals Dr. Cossack made with his government to give him such leeway. Selling Skull Man's weapon was one way of smoothing over any illegal irregularities.

"Now Dr. Cossack is in on it, huh?" Krantz says. "The entire facility was hit by a data-wiping hack, and Wily constantly steals technology. There's no smoking gun there."

Agent Stern makes a counterargument, but I tune it out. I am wasting my time, watching them, for I know how this conversation goes. Stern is right from a logical perspective, Krantz from a moral one, but neither would fully grasp the whole story, the truth too unthinkable to be fully understood by either. Besides, I've removed any evidence to the contrary long ago.

I am wasting my time here. Yet I am wasting my time everywhere. There is nothing to do at Skull Fortress but to wait for an impending disaster. I have not returned to the Cossack Citadel in weeks. I am not useful there.

I am not useful anywhere.

"Why has Dr. Light been acting so strangely, then?" Stern asks, firmly defeated by whatever points his partner made. "Mega Man has not been seen publicly for weeks—"

"The reveal of his brother's armor at the Robot Museum likely has something to do with that," Krantz says pointedly. "I would not blame him for finding it upsetting."

"We're back to that, are we?" Stern replies glumly. "That would require robots having real emotions. You know, Dr. Lalinde's lectures…"

I slip deeper into the shadows, letting his voice fade. The argument would turn toward personhood, and I've no patience for whatever Dr. Lalinde thinks about my kind. I've no destination, but I'm not surprised when my shadows lead me somewhere bright, few corners left to hide within. I've learned by now how to avoid both the dog and Roll, though if there was a little less distraction in the household, it would be more difficult.

Mega Man is in his room. He spends a lot of time there these days, pretending things are normal when they are not. There are times when I wish I could be a comfort to him, but I cannot. I cannot change what I am.

Dr. Light is quick to follow me. "You don't have to talk about it," he says, sitting down on the bed next to his son. "But I wish you would. It could help."

Mega Man frowns at his hands. "It used to feel easy," he says. "Being a hero. Not that it wasn't—I mean, it was challenging, but I liked it. I liked being that for people."

"But not anymore?" Dr. Light asks, gentle.

"No, not like that. I… I just don't feel like a hero anymore. Blues isn't dead, but the world thinks he is." Mega Man's voice shrinks. "They think I killed him, but somehow... I'm still a hero."

Dr. Light is silent for a moment. "This is about the Robot Museum reveal, isn't it?" he asks. "You don't have to go, I've already made that clear."

"The mayor wants me to go," Mega Man replies firmly. "And I've been avoiding press events for months. If it's better for the city…"

"What's important is what's best for you," Dr. Light says firmly. He puts his arm around Mega's shoulders, squeezing. "No matter what. You don't need to be anything you don't want to be."

"What if I don't know what that is?" Mega Man says. "What if I'm not sure how to be who I'm supposed to be?"

"Then you have time to figure it out. To grow and learn from our experiences is what life is about," Dr. Light says softly. "I gave you that ability, all three of you. No one knows who they're supposed to be."

"Not even the father of robotics?" Mega Man asks, half-smiling.

"There are many days where I'm quite unworthy of that moniker. You're far more worthy of being called a hero," Dr Light says with a sigh. "The reveal event isn't for a few days. Promise me you'll give it more thought before you commit?"

"I promise," Mega Man says, his voice fading as I step back into the dark.

I've had doubts in the past about robots having the ability to grow, even of someone as capable as Dr. Light. But I've watched Blues do it, as painfully as any human. Is that experience only for those fortunately enough to have Light's code running through their systems, or can any Robot Master do it?

Can I?

The defenses of the Robot Museum are laughable. Of course they would be—there's nothing here but replicas, and poor ones at that. I don't know why humans would want to look at the same Robot Masters that terrorize them on a regular basis, but I've never been good at understanding humans at all.

Proto Man's armor is laid out like a trophy, damage and all. The desire for revenge, the gloating over a conquered foe. This I understand, this base desire for revenge, this need to lie to themselves about a conquered foe. To feel like they're in control, when they clearly are not. There is comfort in lies, even if it's fleeting.

I won't let them have it.

By the time the alarms sound, I'm already gone, leaving shattered glass and an empty display in my wake.