MEGA MAN X: THE SOUND OF MAVERICKS
By Erico
CHAPTER THREE: PONDERING THE DARKNESS
The impact felt in the 21st Unit was incredible. When news of Wycost's departure became truth, there was no stopping it. Wycost had been one of the best people in the Unit besides Bastion, and was considered to be a stable member. Now all of that had changed.
Everyone in the 21st walked around as if in a daze. The future was uncertain for the Hunters, more so than it had been even in the First Uprising. But worst afflicted was Wycost's leader and friend, Bastion.
Instead of training for any upcoming missions, Bastion sat with a dazed look on his face, quietly buffing his Powerstorm Wings. Back and forth went the cloth he used, but it did little good. Bastion had been the most taken aback from the announcement, for a reason he kept mumbling out loud.
"He never even bothered to say goodbye." Usually, cleaning out the exhaust ports of his black and purple wings gave him joy. Now it was a mechanical operation at best. The life had gone out of Bastion, and he didn't know whether to cry for the loss of a friend or scream in anger at Wycost's hotheadedness. Bristol had been the one forced to bring him the news, as she walked up to Bastion outside of the HQ building with a sour look on her face.
That had been two days ago. Zero and X had tried to cheer Bastion up, to help him move on. But the attempt had failed as miserably as Bastion's attack on Strobe Stallion. It had been Wycost who had saved his pitoot that day, and that was what had cinched Bastion's trust in his friend. He still trusted Wycost.
He just hated the fact Wycost left.
"Wycost left because he felt he had to." Bastion looked up, to see Bristol walking up to him with her hands behind her back. "It was his choice to do so, and you need to stop blaming yourself." Bristol sat down beside the Commander of the 21st and frowned. "Besides, there's things that need dealing with now." Bastion rubbed his eyes and dropped the buffing rag. He hit the recall switch on the Powerstorm wings, and they blinked out of sight to the HQ armory.
"Anything to get my mind off Wycost. What's new?" Bristol pulled a datapad from her belt and hit the power switch. Since Wycost had left, Bristol had taken it upon herself to help the Hunters as a kind of secretary. She felt comfortable in MHHHQ, for a reason she could only tag as another blip from her erased past.
"Three new promising recruits just finished the basic training-and more. Zero even left a brief note about them." Bastion blinked.
"Really? Who are these people?" Bristol hit another button and nodded.
"Jad, Kol and Gavin. Basic humanoid class reploids. Recommendation by Zero: Transfer to the 21st and immediate upgrades." Bastion reached over for the pad and frowned.
"Really? They must have done pretty well." Bastion's eyes grew wider as he read Zero's note and saw their file tape.
"Jad, Kol and Gavin proved to be exceptional team players. While by no means at the top of their game, they showed incredible abilities in synergistic fighting with Busters and beam sabers. On the Maverick V-1 Simulation, they were the only three to make it to the end, and successfully managed to destroy Vile's 'Mech before being frozen in place by paralyze blasts. More than that, they have a voracious ability to learn from experienced leaders. These three Hunter recruits have the ability to go places in the Maverick Hunters, and I can think of no better place for them to obtain a well rounded career basis than the 21st. Commander Bastion should find them to be valuable members of his team."
Bastion flipped off the datapad and nodded.
"All right then. Where are they now?" Bristol tapped a button on the side of her helmet and brought a screen in front of her left eye. She tapped it again a moment later.
"They're with Hazil, getting their upgrades. Version 3 Dash Boots, 1 time Air-Capability with vertical option, as well as either a mark 18 X-Buster or a basic beam saber with beam tint of choice." Bastion pushed his hair back.
"Whaddya know. They're even gonna get a level four capability Buster." Bristol pushed her mouth into a half smile.
"If they choose. Times are different from when you recruited, Bastion." Bastion chuckled.
"Are you calling me old?" Bristol folded her arms.
"No. Hazil's old. Cain's ancient. You're just gray."
"This must be it." Wycost grunted. After being taken on a very large transport with reploids of every kind and temperament, the large craft settled down, and the near silent thrumming quieted down. The reploid next to him jostled him in the arm and smiled.
"We're here!" Wycost involuntarily snapped his hand around and clutched the reploid's hand by the wrist. The reploid yanked his hand out and Wycost released it. Still dressed in his street garb and sunglasses, Wycost shook his head.
"Sorry about that." The reploid rubbed his sore wrist, staring in surprise.
"Did I scare you?" Wycost shrugged.
"Kinda. I'm just used to self-defense." The reploid nodded.
"I see. Well, no harm done, my frowning friend. The name's Isaiah." Isaiah stuck his hand out, and Wycost shook it firmly. "Reflexes, then. Your response would have to be reflexes. Were you in the Hunters?" Wycost chuckled.
"It shows that much, eh?" Isaiah's face lit up.
"Wow! I've never met a Hunter before." Wycost's face turned into a frown.
"I'm not a Hunter anymore. And I pray you never have to meet one. If you do, it would most likely be under very unfavorable circumstances." Isaiah bent his head down.
"Tender nerve there, bud. One question; what's your name?" Wycost tilted his head to the side, biting his lip for a minute. Finally, he shrugged.
"Wycost. A pleasure." Isaiah harrumphed.
"I always found it interesting that reploids never bothered to get a last name." Wycost stuffed his hands in his leather jacket.
"Never needed more of one. Besides, last names mean you have a family. Reploids can't screw around and make little babies like humans can."
"You suppose that's why some humans hate us?" Wycost flipped his glasses up, letting them rest on his short cut bristling black hair.
"I doubt it. They hate us because of the few who have bad intentions. Truth is, humans are just as bad as us. We're just much stronger and smarter than them." Isaiah folded his arms.
"Wisdom from the field?" Wycost shut his eyes, leaning back in his seat.
"You could call it that."
Just then, the door opened on the hovertransport and a buzzer sounded. The reploids up front began to get up and shuffle out, and Isaiah gave Wycost a wink.
"Showtime, my chilluns. Showtime." Wycost put his glasses back down and got up with Isaiah.
"Da, comrade. Da."
"Well, I climbed up the mountain to speak to the man!"
"And asked him what was my life's plan!"
"He said, 'son, take it easy, let it roll!"
"For enjoyment of life is the ultimate goal!" Jad Kol, Gavin and even Hazil sang a merry diddy as Hazil finished the final touches on Kol's paintjob.
In the Medical Bay, Hazil had done his job, and done it well. The trio was equipped with similar dash systems in their boots, with sidegoing chevrons of gold trimming to their natural colors of maroon, teal and obsidian black. The new bootwork would allow them to obtain Air Dash abilities, able to make a thrust in any direction in any environment for one strong burst. Afterwards, they'd have to set down for three microseconds to allow a small recharge, and after every mission the gas supplies would need a recharge back at base. But Dash Systems for reploid use had come a long way, and because of their durability, reploids could use advanced systems and go at speeds humans would have a hard time coping with.
Jad and Kol had chosen X-Busters, to which they had pledged they'd be the Dynamic Duo of Plasma Power. Gavin, being more conservative and noting the efficiency of the short-range beam saber, had chosen that weapon with a very comical orange tint. Jad and Kol had wasted no time in ribbing their buddy and leader of the threesome that he was going to 'Walk around and whack mavericks with a bloody carrot!'
"I think that does it, you hyperactive miscreants." Hazil grumbled. Even though his voice was filled with a sour note, the look on his face was the thing they paid attention to; he was trying to keep from smiling.
"Hazil, why don't you ever act more cheery?" Gavin asked, placing the beam saber in the now permanent charger attached to his armor's backplate. Hazil wheeled back and eyed them over.
"Simple reason my friends; I don't know you well enough, and smiling would mean I'd lose my image around the base."
"Yeah! C'mon, Gavin. Let Hazil be the only reploid on earth who needs Prozac!" Jad chuckled, slapping a chortling Kol on the back. Gavin rubbed his starry black armor and shrugged.
"Fine."
"So how goes the armament?" Jad, Kol and Gavin instantly straightened up; they knew the voice, and who it belonged to. Snapping into military posture, Kol barked out a statement.
"Commander Bastion, SIR! Units Jad, Kol and Gavin are fully equipped and prepared for duties in the 21st, SIR!" Bastion winced at the loud sound, then shook off the bad memories that accompanied them. It was a part of his past he'd very much like to forget, but he always had to deal with.
"At ease, you demons." The trio went into parade rest, and Bastion frowned.
"NOT LIKE THAT. Gawd, you'd think this was inspection. Now, if you all aren't leaning up on a wall or dangling your legs on one of those cots in this room in the next three seconds…"
The threat wasn't even finished when the threesome was found whistling and staring up at the ceiling as they arrived at their posts. Bristol, who watched from behind Bastion chuckled at the change of mood. Bastion caught the snicker and smiled himself.
"That's more like it. Now, you're coming into the 21st. You'll be doing a lot of training, and when those times come I will expect that kind of straightforward, no-nonsense attitude. Same thing applies for missions. But when we're just hanging around recuperating, I want you to loosen up. We may not be as susceptible as humans, but being high-strung all the time can play mind games with reploids as well. Crystal?" The three nodded, relieved Bastion was being so friendly.
"Good. Also realize when you get to the 21st, you won't be getting special treatment from me. I'm responsible for keeping the whole 25 Hunters, myself included in line. So far, there's only 24. A Unit can have 25 at most."
"Sir, who do we talk to to obtain personal effects?" Bastion turned sideways a bit and motioned to Bristol, who finally stepped into the room with a cheery smile.
"That would be me. I'm Bristol, and I'll give you anything you need to get fitted in here at the Maverick Hunters." Jad, the most reckless of the bunch gave a lewd wink and began to walk towards Bristol.
"Shoot, honey. I can think of one thing right noOOOWW!!" He didn't finish the sentence; Bristol yanked his arm away from herself, twisted it around, slammed him on the ground and then flung him into the wall. A solid CRRACCK filled the room, and when Jad landed with a dazed look on his head, there was a dent in the wall. Hazil slapped himself in the face and groaned.
"Aw, cripes Bristol. You need to learn how to stop doing that. I don't think the walls can take that kind of abuse." Bristol stared down at her hands in astonishment.
"I-I did it again?!" Bastion nodded.
"Not the first time for you, Bristol." Bastion gave a stern frown to the trio. "One thing you get straight now; you don't harass Bristol. GOT IT?!"
"YES SIR!" Came the unanimous response, although Jad's was a bit slurred from the jarring blow. Their response came not from the threat from Bastion, but more from what they feared Bristol would do to them, should they try it again.
Bastion walked over to the stunned Bristol. Bristol raised her face in shock and fear.
"Bastion, I keep doing this, and I don't know why!" Bastion frowned.
"I think I have a pretty good idea. You obviously had some military training before your memory wipe; that kind of involuntary response comes with extreme training. Even though you have no conscious memories of your past, it seems those responses are still with you."
"But when I do that, it's like I see an image flash in my eyes." Bristol whimpered, clutching her head now. She shut her eyes. "I don't know what it is!" Bastion put an arm on her shoulder, bending down and looking into her deep eyes. Bristol looked into his, and their gazes locked. Bastion's face was serious, but it had a softer note of concern and compassion.
"Bristol, it may be these responses trigger memories of your past. And if you want to rediscover what you've lost, I think the best way may be to start getting some battle training in again." Bristol shook her head.
"I don't know if I can-" Bastion smiled.
"Of course you can. I'll be there to help you." Bristol looked in his face, that smiling caring face of calm reassurance and bronzed perfection. Her systems fluttered into an odd state in that moment, a kind of peaceful feeling accompanied by warmth and trust. Bristol nodded slowly. Bastion nodded, still smiling.
"Good. Well, we'd best get going, then." Bastion released his grip on Bristol's shoulder, and turned back to the other three. Bristol leaned against the wall, gripping her shoulder tenderly where Bastion's hand had been. Everything seemed to sound oddly metallic, as if she was separated from the world.
Whenever someone else tried to reach for her suddenly, she reacted in a knee-jerk manner and usually sent them flying across the room. But when Bastion's hand was on her shoulder-
There was no feeling of a threat. Just that of a very caring individual; concerned for her welfare, accompanied by a feeling of warmth and lack of surroundings in turn. Bristol looked up with glazed eyes. She saw the room, she saw Hazil shaking his head angrily at the ding in his wall, saw the three new recruits listening to Bastion's instructions. Only Bastion seemed truly in focus.
It was an odd feeling, a sense of contentment and longing.
Bristol didn't want it to stop.
"Welcome to Fantasy Island!" rang out the merry voice. The sun shined above, beating down through a cloudless blue sky, as tropical birds chirped, biorobotic palm trees grew in splendor, and yellow sandy beaches were washed with gentle sea waves.
It was a calming environment, and one to which X and Zero had been sent. This was no ordinary island-
It was the tropical getaway of J.K Horn. And Horn now walked up towards the two Hunters, casually dressed in loose fitting shorts and Hawaiian shirts. He carried a green fruity drink in his left hand, and was waving his right casually.
Horn looked pretty normal for an old person. Gray hair, thinning and pushed to the sides. He wore a pair of large sunglasses, bulky as they were effective. His appearance was even more relaxed than X or Zero's as he walked up to them, dressed only with a pair of trunks, a white shirt, and a sunfaded pinkish red robe. X had to stop himself from smiling at the incredibly relaxed getup, because he always had to remind himself Horn was no ordinary man.
In reality, he was a reploid. As much machine as he was cheerful genius.
Zero stepped up to shake his hand, and found Horn's grip to be strong. Zero gave a slight nod of approval, but let X do the smiling. Horn chuckled.
"Well, whoever you are, you must be reploids. I don't see a boat of any kind about, and teleportation is still too risky for human use. And your mood seems pleasant enough-" Horn paused to take a sip of his drink. Watching Zero's eyes, he lifted it up. "Jamaican Jenny. Want one?" Zero shook his head, folding his arms. Horn twisted his mouth to the left in a small pout and clicked his teeth.
"Your loss, my friend. Well, you obviously didn't come to sit and shoot the breeze with me, so I assume you have a mission of a more serious nature." X shrugged.
"Depends on what's serious. I'm X, and my friend here is Zero. We're from-"
"The Maverick Hunters!" Horn finished with a smile. "Oh my, yes. I've heard of you. Doubtful anyone hasn't." Horn looked around, covering his eyes for a minute with his free hand. Then he brought his gaze back down to look at Zero and X, smiling once more. "Well, don't just stand out here on my front lawn! Come back and enjoy my pool area!"
Less than a minute later, they were sitting at the table in the back of the moderate mansion, trying not to let their unease show. Horn sighed as he shifted into his rocking chair, propping his feet up on a footstool. The medium sized boots, noticeable on any reploid regardless of whether or not they had dash systems was a stark contrast to the rest of his seemingly Floridian Senior Citizen status.
"I tell you. If you have sun, an easy chair and good company, your days of happiness never end." Horn said wistfully, taking another sip of the green drink. He finally set it down on a coaster next to him and folded his hands together, gently rocking back and forth. "So, what brings the two most famous Hunters to my little island getaway?" X shrugged.
"Basically, we're here to figure out why the Global Defense Council favors your program over ours." Horn lifted his glasses up, revealing for the first time a wry twinkling gray eye-and a shifting robotic optical one. It took X by surprise at first, but Zero only stared. Not like his comments would help much. Horn looked at X's raised eyebrows and gave a small harrumph of satisfaction.
"Aw, shucks. My little eye scares everyone at first. I even have them alter my image on the URFAWP commercials. So, why do the human bigwigs like URFAWP more than the Hunters?" Horn shrugged. "It's obvious, really. Instead of a bunch of gun-toting reploids walking about to stop other rampaging gun-toting reploids, we try to solve the problem before it becomes one, easing reploid/human tensions in troubled areas. We're basically a reploid version of the US Peace Corps. And yes, we do get shot at." Horn said with a bit of a frown. "But as long as we can't fire back, the humans are happy."
Zero finally cut in with a grunt.
"Seems awfully wrong. Cain and a few other prominent human players disagree with the Global Hoodlums." Horn stretched his arms behind his head and yawned.
"And if push came to shove, their argument would lose out. Basic reasoning on human instincts, Zero. Humans are much more prone to fear and therefore hate things than they are to embrace it fully and be rational. And in that same manner, reploids can err as well. After all, we were created to mimick humans, down to the T of their moods."
Zero held his tongue, but X picked up the conversation.
"So, you formed URFAWP to try and stop the problem at the source, before it spread and made reploids go off the deep end." Horn nodded vigorously.
"Exactly. A reploid infected with the Virus will fight no matter what. But what pushes normally functioning reploids to lash out against humans is the simple fact that they feel outcast, hated and unloved. And they strike back with a vengeance. URFAWP goes all over the world to meet with reploids, to solve problems between humans and reploids before they go bad. And IT WORKS. In most cases, we bring humans and reploid close together, until they are a close knit community."
"You said MOST CASES." Zero pointed out. "What happens in the others." Horn sighed, his good eye dimming slightly.
"Zero, you'll always have people that hate reploids, and you'll always have some reploids that are too far gone, or whose attitudes are not swung as much. In those cases, we're forced to do the only thing we can-"
"I don't think I'll like the answer here." Zero said, his frown turning darker. Horn nodded.
"You'd be right. In those cases, we're forced to do one of two things; destroy the reploid forever, or wipe all its memories and emotions, take it to a new area and start from scratch."
"Neither of which deals with the human side of the problem!" Zero spat out angrily. Horn sighed.
"Sad fact of life, my friend. Us reploids don't get half the breaks humans do. But if we allowed our crazier cousins to go all the way in their maniacal strikes, we'd lose all the ground we've gained."
X's mind began to ponder for a moment, and then with a small questioning twist of his mouth, he spoke again.
"Memory wipe, you say? How often does that occur?" Horn shrugged.
"In about a quarter of those serious cases." X began to tap the table with his right hand.
"Do you keep a record of the names of the reploids who choose this method of solving the crisis?" Horn's eyes narrowed.
"Why d'ye ask?" X met his gaze.
"We have a female reploid who a fellow Hunter rescued in a recent mission. Her memories were also wiped. All she knew was her name; Bristol." Horn blinked, then pulled up a small datapad.
"Well, matter of fact, we do. And if you'll gimme a sec, I'll run a search." X nodded his head.
"Thanks, Horn." Horn spoke as he fiddled with the controls.
"Call me J.K. Everyone does." Zero chuckled.
"What does the J.K. stand for?" Horn looked up and gave a dirty old man wink.
"Whatever you want it to." Finally, the datapad chirped, and Horn scanned the screen. Finally, he shrugged and passed it to X.
"No entries found for female reploid named Bristol." X muttered. "Oh, well. It was worth a shot." Horn ruffled his hair.
"Sorry to disappoint you, boys. I'm afraid Bristol is in no way associated with URFAWP. Deal is, we got so many now, it's hard for even me to keep up!" Zero looked around.
"Where'd ya get the dough to build this pad?" Horn's mouth drooped.
"Same place I got the money to form URFAWP. By a good three years of work in the Military R&D for The Global Military." Zero's eyes went up.
"You were a scientist?" Horn pointed to the rotating optical lens in his right eye socket.
"What, you think I got this for the looks? Nope. Blame it on an accident in the lab. My good eye was burned out. This thing's the replacement." X looked up.
"Why don't you get it replaced with a good one?" Horn pondered the question, then spun his finger in the air.
"It serves as a reminder to me that some things in life must not be forgotten. Being careful is also another thing. But most of all, I guess I realized something that day; if my work could do this to me, in an accident, what were my designs and weapons of war doing to the people they were meant for?" Horn shook his head.
"No, I realized that day there had to be another way to solve the world's problems than at gunpoint. So I quit, took my life savings and formed URFAWP. The group got such good reviews and approval from the humans on earth, I was raking in donations like you wouldn't believe! Enough to keep it going, and buy this spiffy island in the middle of nowhere in the Caribbean." X sighed, checking his internal clock.
"Well, we'd best be heading back. Thanks for your time, Doc." Horn got up as the Hunters did, and shook their hands one least time, smiling.
"My pleasure! It's good to know there's concern in the world for reploids." Zero pulled his hand back and frowned.
"Lemme ask you something, Horn; do you think the Hunters should continue to go on?" Horn stared right back, his happiness vanished in that blast of a question. Finally, he chose his words carefully and issued his response.
"URFAWP's work is far from done, Zero. But take my word; there will come a day when human/reploid relations will be solid as a rock. When that day comes, the age of the Hunters will be gone." X almost stopped cycling his generator on that remark, but he withheld enough dignity to give a final nod to Horn.
"You take care of yourself, Doc." Horn gave a quick salute.
"Same to you-father." And with the last uneasy exchanges, X and Zero blasted away from the posh island retreat of J.K. Horn-the founder of URFAWP.
URFAWP-the doom of the Hunters.
"You know what irks me the most, Zero?" X grumbled as they walked away from the teleport pad in HQ. Zero shrugged, having shifted back into his battle armor on the way home.
"I dunno, X. What?" X scratched the side of his head
"The fact that some reploids keep calling me father. I know in a sense, it's kind of true, but it irks me nonetheless." Zero crossed his arms.
"Wouldn't happen to be because in the original Uprising, Sigma and the gang kept calling you that?" X shook his dark head.
"Could be. Then again, there's a lot of factors in the game of life we don't quite understand." X lifted his head up and morphed back into his normal armor with a flash of light. "So what's new in this crackhouse of insanity?"
Cain walked up to them, hobbling on his stick as he went. Zero held his chuckle in, and waited for an answer.
"Well, since you left X, Bastion gained a trio of very crazy nuts-"
"Jad, Kol, and Gavin." Zero interrupted. X looked over and Zero shrugged. "I ran their holo-training. They looked pretty good for newbies. With a lot of practice, they'll be busting down Sigma's door any day." Cain grunted.
"If Sigma was still alive. I need not remind you we haven't seen head nor tail of him since a year ago, and he also had no way to transfer his core program." Zero shrugged.
"Figure of speech, doof." Cain wrinkled an eye.
"Indeed. Also, Bastion has determined how Bristol can jog her memory." X looked up.
"Oh, really? I'd like to hear how." Cain pointed a gnarled hand at the door.
"Follow me to the Training Gym."
"Combat training? THAT's Bastion's brilliant idea?!" Zero grunted in disapproval. Cain watched in ironic humor as Zero and X walked into the room. "Cripes. From what I've heard, she's got enough reflexes to take out a flying fortress with ease." X shrugged.
"Actually, it might work. All of her responses have been subconscious, automatic-a part of her that seems to have survived the wipe. It seems plausible that exerting herself along those lines and furthering the training, she could reach success in getting other memory flashes." Zero scoffed.
"Fine. But don't come crying to me when we end up with a nutter on our hands." X looked up at Zero and gave a wry grin.
"Care to make a bet?" Zero returned the gaze and shrugged.
"How much?"
"Loser pays for dinner at the Steak Pit." Zero whistled.
"Steak Pit can cost a week's salary on a huge binge. You sure?" X flipped his eyes around.
"You scared?" Zero's gaze narrowed, his hand went out. X's met his, and they shook together. The bet had been placed. Only time would tell who would win. Zero released his grip and smiled.
"All righty then. I think it's time to play hardball with the boys and girls." X clacked his teeth.
"Go easy on the new ones, Zero. You want to make them better Hunters, not boost your already inflated ego." Zero frowned, and turned his lips into a pout.
"Aww, come on!" X folded his arms.
"I MEAN IT, Zero." Zero sighed for a moment, then shrugged.
"Fine. I'll go easy." X smiled.
"I knew ya could. Mr. Rogers thanks ya." Zero pulled out his beam saber and ignited the blade.
"Enough with the voices. Time to test the mettle. Gavin, me boy!" The obsidian colored reploid looked up, noting Zero's lit saber and igniting his own.
"Looking for a sparring partner, Zero?" Zero chuckled.
"Yes indeedy." Gavin set his pose, and then motioned to the Crimson Hunter.
"Bring it on." Zero leapt up into the air, dashing towards the fresh Gavin. X was content to sit back and watch it all in action.
In this room, reploids trained for survival. The more time spent in here, the fewer wounds they would sustain on the field. Not only did training enhance a single reploid's abilities and reflexes, but served to bring them closer together and restore unity. At times, it became more of a social get-together than anything else. And over time, X had found it to be very therapeutic.
But now his attention tracked towards Bastion and Bristol stalking each other. They didn't carry weapons; this was to be a test of pure reflexes, leverage and speed and difference of attack. It was also the safest way Bastion could think of to kickstart Bristol's mind.
"You ready, Bristol?" Bristol shook her head.
"I can't see you as a foe, Bastion! No matter how hard I try, I can't do it. It only works if I'm taken by surprise."
X didn't wait any longer. He was as willing to help Bristol as Bastion was. So he snuck up behind her and gave a quick tap on her shoulder. Bastion watched in amazement as Bristol's gaze turned to fear in a nanosecond. With lightning speed, Bristol's hands clenched into fists, her body turning in a ducking posture to avoid a headshot.
But X had followed the move, and went in with a footsweep. Bristol went tumbling as she lost her balance, but used her dash systems to go into the air with a blast of artificial fire.
At that moment, Bristol looked like a burning Pheonix, a firebird whose rage destroyed everything-even itself. Bastion continued to stare in disbelief. The time was now two seconds.
Bristol's aerial advantage attained, she hurtled herself down at X. X braced himself, ready to take the frail blow and fling her sideways. But Bristol reacted out of synch with X's guess, curling into a ball of metal and hair that spun towards him. X's eyes widened for a moment, and he dashed backwards.
The added room allowed Bristol to unfold and land both feet on the ground, where she instantly ignited a second blast of thrusters, becoming a blistering red bullet of power aimed at X. Her arms cocked at her sides like powerful missiles to be launched, she charged at X low, to avoid a jarring blow above. And her speed combined with the simple defensive posture of her attack left X little room to retaliate. A disbelieving X jumped into the air, for the first time firing his own air dash thrusters.
As he soared, Bristol skidded to a halt, then did what would be for many people, even reploids, an impossible maneuver.
She backflipped high into the air, her thrusters sending out a powerful charge of flaming gases that hurtled her upwards. And then with lightning precision, she set her boots straight, allowing the thrust to fire her downwards like a missile.
But in between her and the ground was the still airborne X. And X didn't even see the blow-but he felt it. A devastating chop to the neck brought his motion to a horizontal hold of stunned pain, and then Bristol really let him have it. A double whammy hand slam, aided by her downwards motion brought the mightiest Hunter of all crashing into the ground with a final resounding thud.
The room was silent for five seconds-only two shorter than the entire attack had taken. And then Bristol's vision returned to normal.
She looked down at X, pulled him back up. X managed a stunned look and shook his rattled head.
"That one caught me by surprise." Bristol shook her head.
"I saw-something during that seven seconds. And you triggered it." Bastion laughed.
"I knew it! Regaining your memories is coherent to your reflexes! Damn, I should write a book on reploid psychology." X pointed a finger.
"Don't drop your day job." Bastion put his hands on his hips.
"Well X, seeing as I can't trigger her attack mode, why don't you continue to go at it?" Bristol shook her head.
"I saw something. X, can we please continue?" X sighed.
"Why not?" At least he had a good steak dinner waiting for him.
Zero had lost the bet.
The question is; would he be right in the end?
Was Bristol truly a danger? X's mind had seen too many reploids go bad over the years to be optimistic.