Thesis of a Cruel Angel
Wounded Dream
The story of Key
Mercury Amazon, 2001

NOTE:

This story portrays Dr. Light in a very negative way. Please don't be offended by this, I merely took a different view of the world. I'm sorry if this angers some people, but I felt it necessary to take a different perspective. I mean, most everyone writes Dr. Light as a good guy. But what if he really wasn't? I attempt to explore this possibility in this fanfic. Warning, Protoman uses some bad language ahead.

Why is it that dear feelings are sharp thorns
Why is it when we go astray they prick us
Even if it makes petals bloom bit by bit
Like a rose
In fact it shakes my heart
Love is scary
I seem to break... (I seem to break...)
Rather than embracing me
I want you to understand some more
Rather than give me kindness
I want the strength to overcome loneliness
Even unbeatable love
I surely must have in my heart
If it's a certain love I seek
Someday I shall find it
It makes me believe in the strength
To go on no matter how things turn out to be
To turn against destiny
Why does sin stem from innocence
Why does someone have to pay for ignorance
Feelings make casual worries
Complicated
Choosing irrelevant words I make excuses
I merely escape... (I merely escape...)
If you will console me
Scold me some more
If you will forgive my mistakes
Give me a wounded dream
Even unbeatable love
I surely must have in my heart
If it's a certain love I seek
Someday I shall find it
It makes me believe in the strength
To go on no matter how things turn out to be
To turn against destiny
-"Makenai Aigakitto Aru", Rockman X4

Chapter 1: Thesis of a Cruel Angel
Heart burning from the transparent farewell, I wish to meet you again next time around.

Dr. Light wiped the sweat from his brow as he straightened, his back stiff from bending over the lifeless metal body that lay on the table before him. He'd spent countless hours on this new project of his. It was absolutely revolutionary for its time- a robot who could think and act on its own. Robots of this day and age were remote controlled, brainless metal husks. If all went as planned, this robot would be more like a man than a machine.

He paused to admire his work. The robot's body was nearly perfect for the time. Synthetic skin that felt real to the touch, realistic hair as red as a rose, optics modeled to look like normal, gray human eyes… He was a work of art. And he only required a few more minor adjustments before he would be activated.

It only took the good doctor a matter of minutes to finish up and close the robot's chest. He sealed the synthetic skin over the metal plates and called his partner, Dr. Wily. Wily had designed the experimental personality matrix for the robot. Light was extremely curious to see how it would play out.

Wily walked in, looking like he'd just fallen out of bed. "What is it, Light? Don't you ever sleep?"

Light glanced at a clock. It was, to his embarrassment, 3 AM. "Sorry. The prototype is finished."

Wily yawned. "Well, that's good at least. Go ahead, turn him on."

Light reached behind the robot's neck, pressing a hidden switch at the base of his skull. The robot's eyes snapped open, and he yelped in pain. Immediately, he covered his eyes.

"Prototype, what is the problem?" Light asked.

"The illumination in this room is too intense!" he complained, turning away from the light.

"Stop it, Prototype. Your optics are fine," Light snapped irritably. "Stand up."

The robot cringed. "My optics cannot handle this!"

"Stand up! That's an order!"

The robot hesitated, then obeyed. He rose on shaky legs, unsure of how to use this body.

"What is it now?" Wily interjected. "Light, your design doesn't seem to be working out very well."

"There's nothing wrong with my design," Light replied, irritated that the robot wasn't performing up to his expectations. "Come here, Prototype. I'll have to deactivate you."

"Deactivate?"

"Turn you off," Wily explained. "You'll probably need to reprogram it."

The robot backed away. "No!"

"What did you say?" Dr. Light snapped.

"I do not want to be reprogrammed!"

"Hey, could you keep it down in- oh my God!"

The interjection came from a girl, about fifteen years of age, standing in the doorway. She was dressed for bed, her short black hair standing up in all directions. Her blue eyes were glued to the wincing robot. She dashed over to him. He jumped, startled by her approach.

"Why are you hiding your eyes?" she asked.

"The intensity of illumination is painful to my optics," he answered.

"They must have made your optics oversensitive," she replied. "I'm sorry, I'm sure we can find you some sort of protection. What's your name anyway?"

"I… do not know. I have been designated Prototype."

The girl shook her head. "That's not a name." She glared at Light. "I'm not surprised you didn't think of what you'd call the poor boy."

"He's a prototype. His life expectancy is two years at the best."

"What?!"

"Do you mind?" the girl snapped, crossing her arms. "Why don't you have some common courtesy and consider his feelings?"

"He's a robot," Wily said. "He doesn't have feelings. I may be a genius, but even my personality matrix can't create what will never exist for anything not human."

The girl rolled her eyes. This was an old argument for them. "I don't care. You brought him into this world, and I'm not going to let you just end his life because you don't like your work."

"All right, fine," Light said. "He's your responsibility, then. I'll begin work on another unit tomorrow." With that, Light walked out. Wily followed a moment later. The girl turned off the lights in the lab, leaving only the dim illumination of moonlight through the window.

"I'm sorry about that," the girl said. "My uncle's a good creator, he just doesn't understand the responsibility that entails."

The robot nodded. "What… is my objective at this time?"

"They didn't program you with an objective?"

"No."

"Well then… I guess you have to find your own path," she said. "That's the way it is for us humans. The world doesn't have any paths, but you can make your own. And if you go out with just that, the world will open before you." She paused. "Oh, sorry. I get kind of philosophical when I'm sleep-deprived."

"Sleep?"

"It's a dormancy period humans require for biological maintenance," she said. "By the way, my name's Ashitaka."

"I do not have a name."

"How about I call you Protoman?"

"I suppose that will be sufficient."

Ashitaka smiled. "Well… I don't know what you require, but I need to get back to sleep."

"Where do you sleep?"

"My room… I suppose you could come with me. At least there you'd be safe from those two."

Protoman stepped back. "Do you think they would attempt to disassemble me anyway?"

"Not while I'm alive," she said. "I'll take you to my room, but there are lights along the way. Close your eyes."

Protoman complied. "How will I be able to navigate without sight?"

"Give me your hand."

"I do not wish to detach my limbs."

"No, no, it's just an expression. Here, open your eyes. This is what I mean." She demonstrated. "Now, go ahead, close your eyes again and give me your hand."

Protoman complied, mimicking Ashitaka's actions exactly. Ashitaka clasped his hand, surprised at how humanlike it was. He followed, trusting, behind her as she carefully made her way back to her room. He said nothing, which at this point was probably a good thing, considering Ashitaka's sleep-deprived state. The lights were still off in her room, which she informed him of when they arrived. The robot opened his optics warily, then looked around with interest. "What is this place?"

"This is my bedroom."

He wandered to a 3X3 Eyes wallscroll. "What is this creature depicted here? Why does she have a third eye?"

"Her name's Pai, she's a Sanjiyan. It's a TV show, Protoman. I'll show you tomorrow."

"What is this?"

"A Sailor Moon doll. Please, Protoman, I need sleep."

"What is this?"

"A tennis ball. For the love of God, go to sleep!"

"What is God?"

"Protoman!!"

"What?"

Ashitaka sighed. "I need sleep, Protoman. And I can't sleep and talk at the same time. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?"

"I was unaware. That is acceptable."

Ashitaka yawned and rolled over. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Protoman was sitting in the corner when she woke. She yawned and stretched, forgetting that her window was open and the sun was out. When she saw him turned away, she got up and pulled the shade down. "Sorry about that," she said. "I forgot."

"You need not apologize. I am not harmed."

"Still, it was insensitive."

Blank look.

"You'll probably have to get used to that around here." She paused. "Um, Protoman? Could you close your eyes for a minute while I get dressed?"

"Are you not already dressed?"

"Yes, but humans generally change their clothing once a day."

"Why?"

"Because clothes get dirty. You know, you might want to put some on." The good doctor had not seen the need to give his prototype any sort of clothing. Of course, the poor boy was not… equipped, which was painfully obvious now.

"I do not possess any."

Ashitaka looked through her closet, coming up with a black NERV t-shirt and red pants. "These should fit you." She handed them to him, and he stared blankly at them. She couldn't help but smile. "I'm guessing you need some help."

"Your assumption is correct."

Amused, Ashitaka helped him get dressed, then made him turn around so she could dress. She wore, as usual, a nondescript jumpsuit and tool belt. She was not much into fashion. Of course, considering her daily activities included class and repairing machines, she didn't need much in the way of fashion. "Okay, Protoman. I think I have some sunglasses around here somewhere, they should help."

"Sun… glasses?"

"They protect your eyes from light," she said as she searched her somewhat messy room.

"Oh. What a useful invention."

"Aha!" She emerged, triumphant, from behind her bed with a rather beaten-up, duct taped pair of shades. "They're not the best in the world, but they should help." She handed them to him, then figured she'd better put them on herself.

Protoman touched them delicately, wondering if they truly could protect him from the painful light outside. He didn't have much time to wonder, as someone immediately knocked on Ashitaka's door. She answered it to a somewhat disgruntled Dr. Light.

"I have decided what I will do with you, Prototype."

"His name is Protoman," Ashitaka corrected.

"Whatever. I admit that your design did not turn out as well as I had hoped, but you will be of use to me," he said. "I have decided to use you as my lab assistant. Your work begins immediately."

"Dr. Light-" Ashitaka began.

"As for you, Ashitaka, I no longer need your services. I'm sorry to let you go like this… but look at it this way. A young lady like yourself shouldn't be stuck in a lab. You should go home, visit your family, do normal teenager things."

"What about Protoman?" she insisted.

"He is my problem. Your parents will be here to get you this afternoon," he said. "Come, Prototype."

Ashitaka bit her lip. She wanted to order him to stay with her, but she knew there was no way Light would let her get away with it. So she just sighed and began resignedly packing.

Protoman hesitated a moment, not wanting to leave Ashitaka's room. He wanted to stay here, where it was safe and quiet and dark, but he had no choice. He was a robot, and he was obligated to do what he was ordered to. But… what if he didn't want to?

Ashitaka didn't seem to notice his hesitation. Unwillingly, he began to follow the scientist, hoping she would say something. She never did.

That day was the first of many days of painful servitude for Protoman. The good doctor wanted him always at his heels, like some sort of humanoid puppy. He never considered Protoman's photosensitivity. Always, it was order after order. Carry this, repair that, what do you mean you don't know how, etc. Protoman began to feel a rather unpleasant sensation he could not quite place. He found himself wanting to disobey, at the least. At the most, he wanted to slap the good doctor. This surprised him, since firmly imprinted in his brain was the conviction "Thou shalt not harm humans." Did that not forbid thoughts of hurting humans? Apparently not, and did that mean his directive was faulty?

It was questions like these that kept his bored mind entertained during the tedium of the day's tasks. The monotony was only broken by the arrival of two older humans, a male and female pair that resembled Ashitaka. They must be 'parents,' he realized. Ashitaka did not seem happy to see them. They helped her take several cases outside to an unknown location. After they ran out, they thanked Dr. Light for his hospitality. The good doctor, gracious as always, commented that it was not a problem. Ashitaka said nothing. The parents bade the good doctor goodbye, and began to usher the girl out. Protoman felt compelled to speak up.

"When will you be returning, Ashitaka?" he asked.

The parents looked surprised he had spoken up. Ashitaka had an odd look on her face that he could not name. "I don't know, Protoman."

"Oh," he said, puzzled. "Then… is this time to say goodbye?"

"I'm afraid so," she said, looking away. "Goodbye, Protoman."

"Goodbye, Ashitaka." He paused, surprised at another strange sensation. He did not want her to go. He felt an unpleasant, heavy sensation at the thought of time passing without her. He was confused, at the least.

Ashitaka, for her part, was experiencing an odd condition of excess fluid leaking from her eyes. He was about to inquire, but she was gone before he had a chance.

"Prototype."

He turned his attention back to his odious master. "Yes?"

"Don't speak unless spoken to."

He felt a surge of the same emotion that made him want to slap the doctor. "Yes, Doctor," he said, a bit sharply.

The doctor looked surprised, but did not comment. "This way, we have much work to do…"

A year later, Dr. Light finished his second creation. It was another humanoid robot, this one designed as a young boy, about age ten. Protoman had been designed to appear older, around sixteen or so. Dr. Light had designed the personality matrix this time, sorely disappointed with the previous model.

Protoman had not grown more pleasant during Ashitaka's absence. As he began to get used to his emotions, he found himself having to fight the doctor's conviction that he had none. He trusted his own feelings rather than the "expert" opinion of the same dumbass who built him with bad eyes. Which he never fixed. Protoman was condemned to wear double-thick shades to go anywhere near a window during the day. At night, he was all right, having built up a bit of a tolerance to indoor lighting. Of course it still hurt, which made him even more bitter and difficult. He couldn't find the willpower to break his compulsion to obey just yet, so he obeyed in sulky silence, or did as half-assed a job as he could get away with.

On the date of his little brother's activation, he was busy with his favorite activity, hiding somewhere in the lab so the old bastard had to find him to get him to work. His place of choice was a perch in the big mecha hangar, sufficiently above ground so as not to be visible unless one looked up, which humans tended not to do. Protoman liked heights for that reason.

A little blue-haired boy dashed into the mecha bay, causing Protoman to involuntarily tense. He relaxed a bit when he recognized the boy as the good doctor's new project. Sure enough, the good doctor entered a moment later.

"Now, now, Rock," he said, laughing good-naturedly, "You should be careful in here. These are dangerous."

"Okay," the boy agreed. Protoman felt a surge of a new emotion, one he understood in theory. But still, it was odd to be jealous of that kid. Did he really want the good doctor's attention?

"Come on, Rock, let's try to find your older brother," the doctor said, unable to hide the distaste in his voice.

"Why is he hiding?" the boy asked.

"Your brother is a bad design. His flawed personality matrix makes him unsociable and a rather unpleasant sort." Protoman bristled.

"Oh." The boy was completely oblivious. "Well, let's go then!"

Protoman drew his knees to his chest, attempting to deal with the wild emotions tearing through him. On the one hand, he was jealous of the boy, being so obviously favored. On the other, he was hurt and angry at the good doctor's words. And there was always the underlying resentment, and missing the one human who had been kind to him. He believed he would never see her again, and looked forward to the end of his miserable life. Just one more year he would have to put up with this abuse… but then what? Would he simply… cease? If that was so, then why was he here at all? Was he born just to suffer? Was he only alive because some asshole scientist wanted to prove he could create life? And because of that, was he not entitled to his own life?

He bit his lip, feeling a deep, burning pain in his chest. There was nothing physically wrong with him, as a quick diagnostic revealed. He'd observed that when humans were deeply upset, their eyes leaked fluid, as Ashitaka's had. With some concentration, he was able to order his own optics to produce too much fluid. As the robotic tears trailed down his cheek, he contemplated what he would do next. At some point, he would have to make his presence known.

He revealed himself about two hours later. He felt hollow, almost exhausted from his earlier state of mind. The bitterness was still there, as always. He stalked back to his closet, feeling rather predatory. He hoped he encountered the stupid boy on the way back, just so he could torment him. Maybe he couldn't hurt the doctor, but he sure as hell had no qualms about hurting a robot.

As he passed Ashitaka's old room, he saw the boy sitting on her bed. Irrational anger flashed through him. He stopped at the door. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"Who are you?" he asked innocently.

"I'm your 'unsociable older brother'," he mocked. "This is Ashitaka's room. What are you doing in it?"

"Dr. Light said this was my room."

The anger he felt before increased. "Well, it's not. This is Ashitaka's room, now get out!"

"Well, where am I supposed to stay?" he asked with wide blue eyes. It made Protoman sick.

"I don't care! Out!"

The boy ran out of the room sobbing. Protoman, thoroughly disgusted, went back to his closet and slammed the door. Tears came naturally this time, tears of bitter anger.

Ten minutes later, a furious Dr. Light opened his closet door. "You. Explain yourself."

Protoman glared. "What are you talking about?"

"Explain the reason my son cam crying to me in the middle of the night."

Protoman fought to keep from flinching at the word 'son.' "Explain the reason why you gave him Ashitaka's room."

"That is no longer Ashitaka's room. That girl is not coming back here."

For a moment, Protoman's guard slipped. "What are you talking about?"

"She is living a normal like she should. I'm sure she's forgotten about you by now. She's not coming back."

Protoman felt weak, even though his body was in normal operating status. He forced himself to stay standing, not wanting to show weakness.

"You will not leave this closet until I have decided how to properly punish you for your behavior." With that, the good doctor closed and locked the door from the outside. Protoman, enraged, immediately attempted to open it.

"Let me out, you old bastard!!" he shouted, banging on the door. He threw himself at it, attacking it in desperation. For all he knew, he'd never get out of there. He felt even more caged in than he usually felt, like he had no room to move. He thrashed wildly, slamming into every wall in crazed fury. He was denting the walls a bit, but he couldn't punch through reinforced titanium. His systems, unable to handle psychological breakdown, began reverting to stasis mode one by one, until he dropped, exhausted, three hours later.

His internal chronometer informed him when he woke again that he had been out for two days. His systems were running at less than half capacity, his energy having been used up in his panic. He had wrecked his recharger, which had been built into the back wall. He laughed bitterly. So he really was going to die here. Die alone in a closet, and the one person who ever cared about him would never know. If she remembered him at all. Maybe she didn't. Maybe humans were as fickle and callous as Dr. Light. Dr. Wily paid Protoman marginally attention, if any. He didn't even get Protoman's name right, calling him Blues all the time. He didn't mind as much, he preferred Blues to Prototype. After three months, Light gave up referring to him as anything but 'you.' And now, he was no longer needed. Perhaps that was his punishment, to die in a closet, forgotten and replaced.

Tears came again, again with no effort. He leaned against the ruined back of the closet, where his recharger had once been. What a worthless life it had been.

Two years later, someone bothered to open the closet. That someone was a young girl robot.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "There's a robot in here!"

Protoman's optics snapped open. He had put himself in stasis after the third day, if only so he wouldn't lose his mind. He checked his chronometer, bitterly angry at the results. He rose on stiff legs and dusted himself off.

"Ahh! He's alive!"

The good doctor came running at the girl's shriek. When he saw Protoman standing there, he looked absolutely stunned. "You… you're alive!!"

"Yeah, I'm disappointed too," Protoman grumbled. He brushed past the girl, intending to walk out the door.

"Wait!" the good doctor said. "How did you survive? Your circuits should have degraded! To the lab at once! I must see-"

"I am not your doll," Protoman snapped.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I'm not your fucking doll, old man," he growled, turning on him. His gray eyes burned with rage. "You left me to die in there. Tell me why I should do a thing you say, you old bastard!"

Dr. Light turned red. "You are my creation! You owe me your life!"

"You already tried to take it. I think we're even."

"You think you can survive on your own, you recalcitrant piece of junk?" Light challenged. "You were a mistake. My only regret is I listened to that stupid girl and didn't scrap you when I had the chance. Get out of here, you worthless pile of scrap."

"Fuck you, old man," Protoman snarled, barely holding back bitter tears.

"Out!"

Protoman turned and stomped out the front door, ignoring the painful sun. As he was leaving, he could hear the girl asking who he was.

"A failure of Dr. Wily's," the good doctor answered. "Don't worry, I built a better one to replace him. He's useless, don't worry about him. Forget you ever saw him."

The tears came again, and Protoman started running. He had no idea where he was going, and it didn't really matter. Anywhere but here was fine with him.

He ran for miles, ignoring the low power warnings from his systems. If he collapsed and died here, at least he would be free of Dr. Light. He ran until someone stopped him by a robot junkyard. A rather large someone, at that. He stood six feet tall, a good six inches taller than Protoman. He wore bulky purple armor with nasty looking shoulder cannons. His helmet was crested with a large, sharp crescent. He glared at Protoman, dressed in his dusty NERV shirt and red pants.

"Where do you think you're going, little man?" the robot challenged.

"What's it to you?" Protoman snapped. After gaining his freedom from one tyrant, he wasn't about to give it up to another.

"This is my turf, Red," he answered. "No one trespasses without my permission."

"My name's not Red, Tinky Winky."

The robot leveled a cannon at him. "That ain't funny, Red. One more smart remark out of you and you get to meet the Ballade Cracker."

"Ballade Cracker? What a gay name for a weap-" He was cut off as a powerful explosive blast tore into his chest, knocking him back a good four feet and ruining his shirt. His depleted systems were going haywire at this point.

"Weakling," Ballade sneered. "In this world, only the strong survive, Red."

Protoman was unable to respond, being in too much pain. He was unused to physical pain, and it caught him off-guard. Tears welled up in his eyes, which he couldn't restrain. Ballade laughed and left him there for dead.

Protoman struggled in vain to rise and defend his honor, but the pain was too great. He did not have enough energy to repair the damage. Soon his systems would revert to stasis mode automatically to preserve his life. He wondered what was the bloody point.

He lay there on a pile of dead robots, waiting to become one of them until the next morning. He closed his eyes, resisting the painful light. He heard voices coming toward him, but he didn't care enough to react. He lay there, waiting for the inevitable.

"Hey, Sarah! There's something over here!" a female voice called.

"Lorelei, wait up! What's so interesting in a junkyard anyway?"

"Look at this one! He looks human, but look at how he's damaged!"

"Hey, you're right!" Protoman heard them coming closer. He continued to play dead. He heard the one called Sarah speak again. "Looks like Ballade got this one."

"It's a shame, he's so pretty," Lorelei commented. "I wonder if she can fix him?"

"Oh come one, she could build a car with duct tape, cardboard, a rubber band, and a paperclip. Of course she can fix him. Let's get him in the truck. Hey, Enker!"

A male voice replied. "Yes, Lorelei?"

"This one here."

"All right." Protoman felt himself being lifted carefully. He saw no reason to wake. He let whoever Enker was carry him to a darker place, where he was carefully laid down. He heard a door shut, and only then did he look around.

He was in the back of a good-sized truck, along with a few other robot corpses. One was red-armored, with a gold V on his battered helmet. One was wearing a charred parka. Another had a large fan set in his chest. Protoman recognized none of them. He closed his eyes again as the vehicle started to move. Ten minutes later, they stopped. Enker once again picked him up and carried him into a building. Protoman was laid on a table, and he heard Sarah's voice.

"Hey, this one's still alive!"

Hurried footsteps. Then, Lorelei spoke. "Quick, put him out. He must be in terrible pain."

Protoman was slightly nervous about this, but didn't have time to worry. Something forced his systems into stasis.

Lorelei looked up at her friend, surprise clear on her face. "He was awake all this time? Why didn't he say anything?"

Sarah shrugged. "I dunno. Ask Ashitaka, she knows robots better than me. I just collect 'em for her."

"Someone mention my name?" Ashitaka said from the door. The years had been kinder to her. She had matured gracefully into a lovely young woman of eighteen. She still had the same fashion sense, though. Her face went slack with shock as she saw her next patient. "Oh my God, Protoman!"