Rules Destiny: Chapter 1
Propped upon a lawn chair, resting on the edge of a dock, which just so happened to be located on one of the few suitable fishing areas for miles, the reploid found himself. It was a quiet day, relatively, and he was not needed for anything else so fishing had been his escape. It was odd, not many other reploids he knew enjoyed to fish, but the way he saw it, it was their loss. There was nothing more relaxing than waiting for the big one to strike. The reploid adjusted his fishing rod with a white and green synthetic hand before he was finally able to relax.
He leaned his head back, and moved to place his hands behind it when he noticed something hard was behind him now, that was not there moments ago. One hand spun around at an impossible for human degree to feel what was back there. It was metal..very tough metal from the feel of it. Slowly the reploid began to rise from his chair but a heavy hand on his shoulder forced him back down hard. So hard, in fact, that the reploid plowed right through the flimsy chair, his lower end smashing against the concrete dock sharply.
"You did not have permission to rise, Rule Breaker." The cold, robotic monotone spoke as the mammoth machine applied more pressure to the shoulder of the reploid with its massive hand. The reploid howled in pain and the robot completed touched the fingers of his hand to the palm, a crushed and mangled lump was all that was left of the shoulder. "Do not pretend that this is not justified. You have programming that makes you able to break the Rules. Your existence must be terminated."
"Wh..wha..what are you talking about?" The reploid stammered, scooting away from the massive robot, and clutching what was once his shoulder with his left hand. His right arm dangled limply at his side, connected to his body by only a few strands. "What rules? I never broke any rules." The fear was evident in the reploids eyes as he turned to look up into the expressionless face of its purple attacker. What a color. the reploid thought, and almost began to giggle in his pathetic state, but held it back.
"Do not pretend not to know. The Rules are clear. You can hurt humans, your programming makes that possible. That makes you dangerous. All robots that forget who their masters must be destroyed." And the giant robot finally moved his right arm back to its side, opening the hand to drop pieces of synthetic flesh and metal mixed with wires to the ground. "Just admit to yourself that this is the end, and help me. Tell me what I wish to know, and I shall end your existence easily. What are you?"
The question struck the reploid as odd, but, it finally caught on to what the robot meant, and stammered a response. "I'm a reploid. All synthetic life forms modeled after X with the ability of complete free thought are called reploids. But, I guess you already knew that, you just wanted a name." The reploid lowered his gaze, unable to keep the cold, dead stare of the robot in front of him.
"Good. Reploid. I will remember that. Now, when am I?"
Another odd question, but the reploid had to ask, his life was on the line. If he could keep the robot busy, maybe he could think of a way to get away. "21XX."
"Good. A little over a century. I was asleep for a long time." The robot said to himself, and then nodded his head as if confirming it. "One last question. Where are MegaMan and the crimson colored unit? They must be here. Their presence awakened me..but maybe a bit late. Tell me, where are they?"
"MegaMan? Crimson unit?" The reploid's head spun, this was impossible, he had never heard of a MegaMan..oh wait. X. He meant X, and if he meant X, he probably meant Zero too. This was bad. The reploid hung his head and replied. "Go to hell!" And then it tried to scramble away, through the legs of the robot, making it too his own feet and starting in a dead run. Hopefully he would be fast enough.
The robot just turned slowly, watching the reploid run. Something that might be called disgust ran across his face as he began to spoke, that monotone actually deep enough to shake the earth. "Smart, but not honorable enough to fight. That is exactly what makes you dangerous. You have no honor. No sense of duty. Only self-preservation. How disgusting. The third Rule overruling the first in your programming, that is a disgrace." The purple robot raised his right arm, the massive hand retracting into his wrist as six tubes extended from the wider wrist guard. There was but one choice now. It had to be done. The robot's aim was perfect and in seconds a gatling gun like volley of small plasma shots ripped from the six barrels of the robots buster arm, and the entire chest cavity of the running reploid was torn to shreds in an instant.
The reploid fell to the ground, twitching for a few seconds before it was completely still. For the most part it was dead, but the robot knew that his job was not done. The reploid's head was still intact, and that should be were the chips were. A few lumbering, giant steps carried the purple assassin over to the fallen reploid, and then one massive foot came down, crushing the cranium and sending electronic components spewing around the area, along with what, he supposed, was synthetic blood. Disgusting. How dare they try to mimic humans so completely.
The robots job was far from done. He only got a very little information from that reploid. There were, from his estimates, thousands of other reploids, not to mention the two he was originally sent after. It would be an immense task, but he could not fail. He promised his master that he would not.
Silently the hulking killer turned and began down the streets. Already a small crowd had gathered, but that was of no concern. They were mostly humans and they were whom he was doing this for. He must assure the continuation of the human race.
Propped upon a lawn chair, resting on the edge of a dock, which just so happened to be located on one of the few suitable fishing areas for miles, the reploid found himself. It was a quiet day, relatively, and he was not needed for anything else so fishing had been his escape. It was odd, not many other reploids he knew enjoyed to fish, but the way he saw it, it was their loss. There was nothing more relaxing than waiting for the big one to strike. The reploid adjusted his fishing rod with a white and green synthetic hand before he was finally able to relax.
He leaned his head back, and moved to place his hands behind it when he noticed something hard was behind him now, that was not there moments ago. One hand spun around at an impossible for human degree to feel what was back there. It was metal..very tough metal from the feel of it. Slowly the reploid began to rise from his chair but a heavy hand on his shoulder forced him back down hard. So hard, in fact, that the reploid plowed right through the flimsy chair, his lower end smashing against the concrete dock sharply.
"You did not have permission to rise, Rule Breaker." The cold, robotic monotone spoke as the mammoth machine applied more pressure to the shoulder of the reploid with its massive hand. The reploid howled in pain and the robot completed touched the fingers of his hand to the palm, a crushed and mangled lump was all that was left of the shoulder. "Do not pretend that this is not justified. You have programming that makes you able to break the Rules. Your existence must be terminated."
"Wh..wha..what are you talking about?" The reploid stammered, scooting away from the massive robot, and clutching what was once his shoulder with his left hand. His right arm dangled limply at his side, connected to his body by only a few strands. "What rules? I never broke any rules." The fear was evident in the reploids eyes as he turned to look up into the expressionless face of its purple attacker. What a color. the reploid thought, and almost began to giggle in his pathetic state, but held it back.
"Do not pretend not to know. The Rules are clear. You can hurt humans, your programming makes that possible. That makes you dangerous. All robots that forget who their masters must be destroyed." And the giant robot finally moved his right arm back to its side, opening the hand to drop pieces of synthetic flesh and metal mixed with wires to the ground. "Just admit to yourself that this is the end, and help me. Tell me what I wish to know, and I shall end your existence easily. What are you?"
The question struck the reploid as odd, but, it finally caught on to what the robot meant, and stammered a response. "I'm a reploid. All synthetic life forms modeled after X with the ability of complete free thought are called reploids. But, I guess you already knew that, you just wanted a name." The reploid lowered his gaze, unable to keep the cold, dead stare of the robot in front of him.
"Good. Reploid. I will remember that. Now, when am I?"
Another odd question, but the reploid had to ask, his life was on the line. If he could keep the robot busy, maybe he could think of a way to get away. "21XX."
"Good. A little over a century. I was asleep for a long time." The robot said to himself, and then nodded his head as if confirming it. "One last question. Where are MegaMan and the crimson colored unit? They must be here. Their presence awakened me..but maybe a bit late. Tell me, where are they?"
"MegaMan? Crimson unit?" The reploid's head spun, this was impossible, he had never heard of a MegaMan..oh wait. X. He meant X, and if he meant X, he probably meant Zero too. This was bad. The reploid hung his head and replied. "Go to hell!" And then it tried to scramble away, through the legs of the robot, making it too his own feet and starting in a dead run. Hopefully he would be fast enough.
The robot just turned slowly, watching the reploid run. Something that might be called disgust ran across his face as he began to spoke, that monotone actually deep enough to shake the earth. "Smart, but not honorable enough to fight. That is exactly what makes you dangerous. You have no honor. No sense of duty. Only self-preservation. How disgusting. The third Rule overruling the first in your programming, that is a disgrace." The purple robot raised his right arm, the massive hand retracting into his wrist as six tubes extended from the wider wrist guard. There was but one choice now. It had to be done. The robot's aim was perfect and in seconds a gatling gun like volley of small plasma shots ripped from the six barrels of the robots buster arm, and the entire chest cavity of the running reploid was torn to shreds in an instant.
The reploid fell to the ground, twitching for a few seconds before it was completely still. For the most part it was dead, but the robot knew that his job was not done. The reploid's head was still intact, and that should be were the chips were. A few lumbering, giant steps carried the purple assassin over to the fallen reploid, and then one massive foot came down, crushing the cranium and sending electronic components spewing around the area, along with what, he supposed, was synthetic blood. Disgusting. How dare they try to mimic humans so completely.
The robots job was far from done. He only got a very little information from that reploid. There were, from his estimates, thousands of other reploids, not to mention the two he was originally sent after. It would be an immense task, but he could not fail. He promised his master that he would not.
Silently the hulking killer turned and began down the streets. Already a small crowd had gathered, but that was of no concern. They were mostly humans and they were whom he was doing this for. He must assure the continuation of the human race.