Mega Man X: Demons Of The Past

by Erico

The fight never ends, and two weeks past the end of TSOM, a new Chronicle is begun...

18. The Doorway To Oblivion

MEGA MAN X: DEMONS OF THE PAST

By Erico

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE DOORWAY TO OBLIVION

            "Every test proves it." Said Ring Man in awe. "Pharaoh Man, you are most definitely alive."

            "And?" The revived robot asked, lifting an eyebrow.

            Ring Man paused for a moment, then looked over to Kalinka, then back at his fellow member of the Foregone Five.

            "And to top it off, your mind is running without the core module."

            "The what?" Kalinka asked, perking her ears up. Pharaoh Man's face paled a bit.

            "The core module…the thing in my mind that contains the Three Laws."

            "When Kalinka initiated the mind freeze in you, the first thing to short out was the core module." Ring Man offered. "In normal circumstances, it sends out a signal as it perishes that then afflicts every other area of your mind. A chain reaction, if you will."

            "But in my case, I fought it." Pharaoh Man added slowly.

            "You fought the shutdown command and won. The core module destroyed itself, but you blocked it from transferring its destruct code and destroying everything else." Ring Man's eyes shone in admiration. "You went beyond a robot. You're something more now."

            "Just what are you saying? I feel the same as I ever did." Pharaoh Man protested, hopping down from the examination table.

            "But you no longer have the laws working in your mind. They don't control you!" Kalinka said, a little afraid. "You're different now, Phare. You might not feel different, but you are."

            "In some ways, it might be said that Pharaoh Man has evolved into a reploid."

            "Reploid?!" Pharaoh Man said, almost shouting it. "Now hold on a second, there…"

            "My God, Ring Man, you're right…" Kalinka uttered. "Reploids have emotions. They have feelings. And in them, the Three Laws are not ingrained." She nodded her head. "Phare…you are a reploid."

            "No." Pharaoh Man said, shaking his head. "I look different than I did thirty years ago. And I certainly have feelings. And I can even believe that by surviving the mind freeze, I now live without the Laws directing my actions. But I cannot be a reploid. I wasn't built a reploid. I was built as a robot."

            "And you can change." Kalinka stated in admiration. Suddenly, she walked next to him and gave him a wide hug. "God, I thought I would lose you."

            "Hey, hey, lay off!" Pharaoh Man mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed as the elderly woman held him tight. "Kalinka, I'm alive, all right? I don't need to be crushed to death!"

            "Father was right about you…" She sniffed, shaking her head. "You and the rest of the Robot Masters all have the capacity to change. To become more than who you were. God, I'm sorry for what I did, Phare…I didn't mean it, I just missed him so much…"

            "We all missed him." Pharaoh Man said gently, patting her on the back. "And I suppose he was right. If I didn't have the capacity to become more than who I started out as, I would have most definitely perished from the mind freeze. I forgive you, Kalinka. I knew you didn't mean it. He thought you meant it…but I knew you were just upset."

            "He?"

            "My other half." Pharaoh offered simply. "The one who no longer exists." He eased Kalinka back and nodded his head. "In any case, since I'm still alive, the Foregone Five can still function. And our work continues."

            "Perhaps not right away." Ring Man said. He handed Pharaoh Man a datapadd. "If you'll recall, Doctor Cain passed away around the same time that our creator did. His loss has impacted the Maverick Hunters quite negatively, and they've brought in someone completely new from the GDC to take his place. Someone, who, I doubt would appreciate help from a vigilante group such as ourselves."

            "Hmm." Pharaoh Man mused, rubbing at his chin. "Kind of spoils the water in the bucket. Still, didn't X send us that list of other people we could trust in the organization?"

            "Yes." Ring Man nodded, pointing to the list. Pharaoh Man's fingers tapped on the keys of the device for a few brief moments.

            "Bastion, commander of the 21st Maverick Hunter Unit...Hazil, MHHQ head doctor…Doan from the 17th, and of course, Zero."

            "Zero." Kalinka said shortly. She exhaled her mouthful of air and shook her head. "The others I can understand…But I can never forgive Zero. Never."

            "Why is that?"

            Kalinka's eyes burned with a memory long ago forged. "He killed Protoman."

            "He killed a lot of people, when he was under the influence of The Maverick Virus back in 2085." Pharaoh Man said quietly. "We try not to hold it against him anymore these days. Because he's X's friend, because he isn't who he was, and sometimes we have to bury the past and move on."

            "Unless you're an unburied past that refuses to die off." Ring Man said, lifting one eyebrow humorously. "Like us."

            "As sad as it sounds, Ring Man is correct." Pharaoh Man agreed. "Until Mega Man X came to us, searching for the answers to his past, just as Doctor Light had said he would all those years before, we lived in the darkness of dead time. Now everything's changed. And now, we're changing with it."

            "So what do we do now?" Ring Man queried. Phare mulled over the idea, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling of the Fourth Ring.

            "Well…I suppose we just wait. If they need us, they'll call. Until then, relaxation doesn't seem like such a bad thing."

            And that was most definitely the truth.

            For Bristol, it was an odd sort of homecoming. In the deep, hidden recesses of MI9's most inner sanctums, in what had once been the reploid section of the R &D department, she had been dragged.

            Bernard Tarkin could hardly believe his eyes. They had thought Bristol lost to them. Lost for all time, when she and Willow vanished into the maelstrom of New Denver that was a Maverick attack.

            He pushed his lab coat aside from his pants pocket and reached for the handkerchief he used to clean his glasses. Gently, he took the old fashioned spectacles off of his face and thoroughly cleaned them, being as careful as ever not to scratch the lenses. Calmly, he slipped them back on.

            And still the image before him didn't change. There was Bristol, unmistakable in her armor. As if she'd never left.

            "Well, Bristol, I suppose I should say welcome home." He mused drily. "But I doubt you would remember me now, would you? No, I've already peeked at your memory, and it's as fritzed as Hell." A sudden flash of anger burned in his eyes. "You just had to go and use a memory wiper, didn't you?"

            Bristol couldn't answer him. She was in stasis, strapped to a heavy duty operations table with her arms and legs in manacles of TitaniTefloAlloy. A wonderful substance that could repel plasma, and was nearly indestructible, TitaniTefloAlloy was used in choice situations. The cost of making it made it financially unsound otherwise.

            "Oh, well…I suppose that doesn't matter much now, does it then?" Tarkin continued, as if she could somehow hear him. "We have ways of getting to your memory, even though you've severed the connections and made the files unreadable, by both yourself and whatever foreign scanners we might possibly use." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Of course, you'll have to be awake for the process…a mild side effect to the whole thing. But it'll be so much fun…we'll be able to catch up on old times, talk about the jokes we've had in our experience together, solve the inner crises of all the wonderful equipment you designed and built for us…"

            A gleam of almost paranoid joy shone in Tarkin's eyes then.

            "Oh, and don't worry about your friend Willow. Yes, we've found her as well. She caused us quite a lot of grief, destroying two of our best field agents. You know, Geoffrey and Tim?" He hesitated for a moment, expecting Bristol to answer back. Of course, she couldn't. "Well, no matter. Geoffrey and Tim had a run-in with her, purely by accident! They were trying to find you, believe it or not. And they found her. Of course, they died. Willow might not have been the most theoretical minded of your merry little group, but she was by far one of the deadliest aces in combat. And then we lost her…of course, there was a very interesting warp signal that left Alaskan territory soon after that. It wasn't hers completely, we knew that much. We've traced it to an island off in the middle of nowhere…tropical paradise sort of place, completely separated from anywhere. As a matter of fact, if we hadn't traced that warp signal, we wouldn't even have known the island even existed."

            Tarkin stepped about from behind the rows of consoles, a datapadd in his hand. Absentmindedly, he punched a few buttons on it while walking towards Bristol.

            "Of course, it came as a shock to us, so we convinced some of our higher ranking members to get some satellite photos taken for us. Believe it or not, the island that Willow is on lies on no map. And it is owned solely by the founder of the now defunct URFAWP organization…a reploid by the name of Julius Kinnian Horn." Tarkin snorted. "Honestly…a reploid giving himself a middle and last name. What's the use in it? Some more field agents will be arriving there shortly to put Willow out of her misery, and to end the life of Horn as well. We can't exactly have reploids of their caliber left to stand in our way now, can we?"

            He leaned down next to her angelic, unblemished face and sat there, scrutinizing her for what seemed like hours. But finally he pulled himself up and shook his head.

            "And I've recently received word that our dear officer of construction projects, Commander Kowalski, has reached a sticky point in his recent task. That's why we needed you, you see…" He patted her cheek gently. "If it weren't for the fact that every facet and detail about the innermost secrets of the Berserker Beacon lay in your skull, you would already be dead in the suburbs of Juneau. As it is, you're alive for now."

            Something stopped Tarkin from ending it there. He blinked a few times and thought over the sentence in his head, then shrugged with a murderous grin.

            "And who knows, Bristol? Maybe by the end of all this mess you'll be begging us to end your life."

            It was dark as Zero stepped through the shuttering doorway from the first part of the Final Weapon. The forces facing him had been severe in power, but low in intelligence. He hadn't seen a reploid yet.

            Getting aboard the Final Weapon had been no easy task. Zero knew that X had made it as well, both of their shuttles having broken through Repliforce's initial defenses.

            This entire conflict had worn heavy on his mind. It had begun because Sky Lagoon, an airborne highrise section of the Dublin city, had crashed. From there, it only grew worse.

            It was Repliforce that received the blame for the entire mess. Repliforce, the organization created by the GDC in 2125 to make penance for the World Trial's inhumanities. Just four years old, Repliforce now faced its darkest days.

            General, a massive super-reploid who was in charge of the entire operation had sent out a massive announcement to every cluster of Repliforce operatives worldwide. That they were calling it quits. That they were sick and tired of being scapegoated, of being humiliated. They wanted justice, and they wanted out of the great conspiracy.

            General had made it very clear in his speech that he had no beefs with the humans. That he wasn't Maverick, and neither were any of his troops. They were just sick and tired of matters on Earth, and wanted to build a place where they could be left alone.

            General, how much of a fool were you? You can't just get out of it like that…The GDC wouldn't stand for it!!

            They didn't, either. Repliforce, a group who was supposed to have partially taken over the duties of the Maverick Hunters, had been failing miserably in its duties. The Maverick threat hadn't been contained, and in fact had actually increased.

            X had his own problems in dealing with this mess. But he didn't have nearly the amount of strain Zero did.

            Zero had friends in this mess. Former allies. Even…

            Iris?!

            Stunned, Zero looked across the dimly lit room. There stood Iris, face crestfallen and her brown hair hanging loosely behind her.

            "So. You finally made it." She pronounced flatly. She tilted her face up and gazed into his eyes. "You killed him. I begged and pleaded with the two of you not to fight, but…" Anger seeped into her voice. "He was my BROTHER, Zero! I didn't want you two to fight!!"

            "He didn't give me a choice, Iris." Zero said back quickly. "He stayed behind to make sure the rest of Repliforce made it into space…to make sure that you made it into space…"

            "And you killed him because of that?!" Iris nearly screamed now.

            "I didn't WANT to kill him, Iris!! But he wouldn't have it any other way! As far as he was concerned, one of us was going to die there!"

            "God, Zero…" Iris moaned, crumpling to her knees for a moment. With one trembling hand, she reached down behind her and plucked something up. Zero recognized it instantly…

            Colonel's power core?!

            "Iris, no!!"

            "This is all that's left of my brother, Zero." Iris said dully, standing back up. She shook her head. "I can never be happy again. I can never be myself again. Colonel was my second half…without him, I face it all."

            "Face what?"

            "The rage, the violence, the screaming…" Iris whispered, clasping a hand to her aching forehead. "The madness of a warrior."

            The purple orb in Iris's hands slowly began to rotate and shift, until it had changed into a power crystal, similar to a large Energen diamond.

            "You killed my brother because he stood in your way, Zero." Iris said, her voice losing its serenity as she slipped farther and farther away. "I didn't want it to happen like this…I wanted us to all be together. I wanted to be together with you, to be happy, I loved you…"

            "Iris, it's not too late!" Zero demanded. He took a step forward and held out his hand. "Give me Colonel's power core, I can help you…we can get through this!"

            "LIAR!!" Iris screamed, her voice growing shrill as sanity escaped her then. She took several steps back and shook her head, eyes wild now as she held the power crystal of her brother's strength high.

            "Iris, please don't make me do this…" Zero said, taking a step forward and shaking his head. He even shut down his beam saber and put it away. "Please…"

            "What are you going to do, Zero?" Iris said bitterly. "Kill me, too? Would you kill me because I stand here in your way?"

            "I don't want to…"

            "But you would, Zero. Given the smallest excuse, you WOULD! All I wanted was peace, Zero. I wanted to live in peace, take you away from all of this…"

            "Iris…"

            "But you couldn't stand for it, could you?!" Iris screamed again. "Well then, so be it!" The purple crystal in her hand glowed brighter now, and somehow darker at the same time. Contained within it was all of what had made Colonel so formidable. And without him to counterbalance it, Iris was now facing its full effects, and losing herself in becoming the one person with both personalities. "Very well then, Zero! If your mission is to lead the assault on Final Weapon, then you'll have to go through me!!"

            "Iris, NO!" Zero screamed back, pain in his eyes. "Please, PLEASE don't say that! Don't make me do this!!"

            "We no longer have a choice in the matter." Iris howled back, drawing the crystal in to her body.

            Around the room, scattered bits and pieces of various 'Mechs were drawn to the sudden amalgamation of Colonel's might and Iris's will. Zero watched in horror as Iris entrapped herself within the monstrosity, turning herself into a flying terror.

            And yet as the last armor piece fit into place, something still remained constant.

            The innocence in Iris's voice, returned after being absent for so long.

            "Forgive me, Zero…" She said achingly. And then the flying gargoyle Mech reared its head back.

            "STAY WITH ME, BROTHER!!"

            X finally stood up after hopping down from the table, running a self diagnostic for one moment before noticing Hazil off in his office, as slouched and as rum drunk as ever.

            But what really stunned him was Zero lying on the cot beside him, somewhat bashed up, but looking minimally acceptable.

            He paused and looked down on the note beside Zero. It was addressed to him...

            X,

            Hazil here. Listen, by the time you finally wake up, I'm gonna be sloshed out of my wits and there's Hell to pay for anyone who wakes me up before the hangover does. But I thought I'd at least bother to write down some stuff for you. Sort of a way for you to catch up on what's been going on while you were sleeping.

            For one, here's the big kicker, my old friend. I've spent thirteen years piecing you back together, and two days ago was most definitely one of the worst times.

            Doc Light knew what the Hell he was doing when he built you. But even though he predicted you'd end up playing the part of hero, he didn't predict you'd be doing it 24/7. Which led of course to the problem of your armor sets degrading. Two days ago, you fried Golden Hyper, Retribution, and even Paladin. Congratulations.

            You know something? I've discovered a little trick that you and Zero both hold. When one of you gets hurt bad, the other slips into what might be called a rage. A very powerful rage that usually allows one or the other of you to triumph above all else.

            But yesterday didn't work out like usual. Let me explain why.

            We got a call from Sigma and his new breed of Mavericks. Once more, offering a challenge we couldn't exactly refuse. Battle took place in the desert base and surroundings of Overdrive Ostrich's old stomping grounds on Cornus. I assume you can remember that.

            The elites were sent out this time. No fooling around with the less experienced Hunters…no sense in getting them killed. But as it stood, we took losses. #00 Unit lost four guys and Bastion's 21st lost a third of their men. And the most damage that they were able to do was put that stupid Dolphin Maverick with the plasma hands out of commission. Zero's trick. Sliced off the Mav's hands, and the system backfired, blowing his arms off. Nice how the bastard remembers how plasma overloads are a bad thing. Nicer yet he knows how to instill it in his foes.

            And then Zero rushed into the abandoned Fortress on his own, and the door shut behind him. Bastion and the other Mavericks spent minutes trying to tear that thing down. Busters weren't cutting it, so Bastion finally went berserk and blew it apart with a lightning strike from his Wings.

            By the time they got inside, Zero was already half-dead…for him, at least. Sigma was standing there in the back, watching with glinting eyes shining in madness. Bastion's words, not mine. And the Maverick facing Zero wasn't Sigma. It was someone completely else, someone you and I knew.

            Iris.

            Sigma finally found a way to defeat Zero. It wasn't in bringing his Maverick self forth. It wasn't in tapping into his lust for violence.

            Sigma defeated Zero by quashing that side of him that developed on its own. By dousing the fire instead of blowing on it. Iris has been rebuilt, X, and she's working for Sigma now.

            That's why he's in the sorry shape he is. His wounds are more emotional than they are physical. Iris's reappearance has triggered a whole cascade of memories Zero tried to keep hidden.

            Hell, in a lot of ways, he's too much like me. A lot of crap in his past he doesn't want to face up to, a lot of stuff he keeps hidden. In Zero's case, he's got a heavy load on his shoulders.

            I wouldn't mention this if I wasn't sure that nobody else was going to read this note but you. Burn it when you're done.

            We know now that Zero was the final creation of Doctor Wily, as well as the original carrier of the Maverick Virus. For all purposes, he's the entire reason we have this mess. If Zero had never come along, then you might still be a pacifist, Sigma would probably still be a Maverick Hunter, and all those poor Hunters and Civilians who have died along the way would still be alive.

            You know it as well as I do. He's your best friend, and he's my patient. And as far as I'm concerned, only you, me, and maybe Bastion and Wycost to an extent are aware of this mess. Wycost's retired, Bastion's a good fellah, and Cain's dead. This is information that we'll carry to the grave.

            Maybe that's why he fights anymore. Losing Iris was a serious blow to him. After that, maybe he fought because he still felt the bloodlust. The thrumming of his heart that ached for battle. After the Fifth, he knew, like we did, a lot more about everything. Now, I have the feeling that after that he fought more as a sort of penance. He was the reason this mess existed, and it was up to him to set it right.

            Remember how pathetic Zero was for months after the Repliforce Incident? He loved Iris. And somehow, he ended up having to kill her. I can only see so deep into how his mind works.

            But I know he's on the rocks, and he needs some healing. And you're the only one who he can get it from.

            Funny how it works out. Zero was built with the purpose to destroy you. You should have ended up as enemies, if fate had worked the way Wily hoped it would.

            But it didn't. You're friends. You're the best of friends. And in the end, as sad as it sounds, there'll come a time when there will just be the two of you. The rest of us, Hunters and support crews alike will come and go. It sounds even more morose than some of my previous statements.

            Realize that I've been piecing you Hunters together for more than a decade. That does little to help my OWN sanity. But that's given me more than enough time to do plenty of thinking. And I know this.

            WE DIE. Cancer, Jim Dacker, Gearloose, that fool GDC reploid Damien, Bill…And all the others who have died for the cause…

            And yet the only people who seem immune to this entire system of life and death is you and Zero. Your charisma, maybe, or perhaps it's that fate has a Hell of a lot more in store for your lives than dying on the battlefield like some basic grunt.

            There will come a time when all the rest of us will have moved on. And it'll just be you and Zero. So keep that friendship alive. It'll be the only thing left then.

            Help him, X. Only you can.

            -Hazil

            X took in a deep breath, then shook his head and crumpled the document up. He formed a Buster out of his left hand and discharged a blast at low power, vaporizing the piece of paper but harming nothing else in the room.

            "Well, Zero, I guess the both of us aren't doing as well as we might hope." X mused sadly. "Now would you mind waking up soon? My problem is a lot easier to solve than yours."

            But just from how Zero lay there, X knew that time would be a while.

            Allegro was lying on the roof of J.K. Horn's island mansion and staring at the sky when he saw the warp beam crash down by the front door. He frowned for a moment, then picked himself up and jumped down.

            The figure whipped about, beam lance already drawn and ignited. Likewise, Allegro had his own black bladed beam staff active and ready to attack. But once their eyes met, their hard gazes relaxed and the plasma blades faded out of existence.

            "Geezus, Doan! You gave me a scare for a moment." Allegro sighed in relief, putting his beam staff back away.

            The gray Maverick Hunter pulled his beam lance back and shrugged.

            "Sorry. I was left a message by Wycost to come here."

            "Oh, yeah…Yeah, he did." Allegro thought for a moment. "Horn and I have been working on your Archangel Wings, if I assume correctly that's what you came for."

            "You'd be right." Doan said matter-of factly. He looked past Allegro, then back at him. "How have you been?"

            "I take it a day at a time." Allegro answered back.

            "Do you miss him?" Doan said gently, obviously referring to Andante, Allegro's brother.

            "Every day." Allegro replied sadly. "But then I realize I have to move on, and Andante did what he did for a reason. Because he cared enough about me to give his life for mine, and I'm not going to betray that gift by not using it to the fullest." Allegro pushed the sadness past him and cracked a smile. "Well, come on then. I'd best show you how our progress goes."

            Allegro walked inside the front door, but Doan allowed himself to linger for a few moments. He turned his head about and examined the island…it appeared on no map, just as it should. If it weren't for Wycost's directions, he would have never found his way here. But it was most definitely pristine.

            A gentle breeze rolled through the air, brushing the light seventy something temperatures that were free of any humidity whatsoever. Palm trees lay around the island's rim, and its total size couldn't have been more than a quarter of a mile both ways. And to top it off, Horn's mansion smack in the middle of it all, with multisegmented rooms, a rack of highly efficient solar cells on the roofline, and other power sources as well…

            "Definitely a sweet setup." Doan grunted. And free of any sort of bureaucratic chain of command that might screw it up. All in all, not a bad place to be. Not a bad place at all.

            Inside the front door of Horn's mansion was the living room, where Wycost lay sprawled across the couch, half asleep. When Allegro walked in, the Bronx Bomber snapped awake and sat back up.

            Slowly, Doan could sense the eyes behind Wycost's sunglasses were coming out of sleep mode.

            "Hey." Wycost grumbled. "Fancy meeting you here." He stood up and walked over to shake Doan's hand.

            Returning the gesture, the Ghost Wind looked about and nodded thoughtfully.

            "And how long has Horn had this place?"

            "Oh, ever since I got out of the Israeli R&D department and started up URFAWP." Horn said easily, walking into the living room in another generic Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. His oversized Blue Blockers were still in place, barely covering his large robotic eye, and another tropical fruit drink was in his hand. "Of course, I don't think I need to remind you how much of a dent that URFAWP put in my finances, despite the GDC's help. This was what I did with about 10% of my remaining funds after that."

            "So about how much money do you have left to burn??" Wycost said with a snort.

            "Oh, somewhere in the area of 20 Billion or so in Swiss Accounts Allegro hasn't laid eyes on." Horn said in deadpan.

            He chose to ignore the snort of disbelief that echoed his way from Allegro, and to a lesser extent, Wycost. Doan remained in stony silence.

            "So anyhow, Doan." Horn said with an easygoing smile. He walked next to the Ghost Wind and clasped an arm on his shoulder. "It's so good to see you again. I trust you've been well?"

            "I'm fine, but things back at the MHHQ have gotten…interesting, to say the least." Doan added finally.

            "Oh, I'm quite aware of the newest set of developments. What with the GDC sending in Signas and all." Horn replied drily.

            "Well, there might be hope for him yet." Wycost motioned. "From what little Bastion was able to tell me, when Signas first arrived, he pretty much overpowered everyone. But thanks to Zero's outburst two days ago, that side of Signas has been cowed into the shadows, so to speak. Yesterday, he even bothered to ask for Zero's advice."

            "Intriguing…" Horn mused. "Are you saying that Signas can become more than the drone the GDC built him to be?" He shrugged finally and walked towards another room, motioning with his free hand for the rest of them to follow. "Well, I suppose all things are possible then."

            When they arrived in the next room, Doan almost cracked a smile. There, lying on the table was a set of Flight Wings, designed with the same shape specifications he'd thought of.

            "And these are the things you came for, I assume." Horn motioned with his free hand. Doan stepped next to them, eagerly stretching his hands down and rubbing their unblemished surface. "Everything you asked for, I believe…basic thrusters, limited maglev…your beam lance recharge port is already built into the thing, and it's designed to hook up to your main power supply. You know, your Microfusion Tank. You should be able to fly circles around twips with this. Of course, I'd love to give it an actual field test first…"

            "Huh." Doan grumbled. He reached down and picked it up, noting how light it felt. "Seems kinda lacking durability." As if responding to his statement, the wings vanished from view, slipping into the silvery pack that stood at the center of them.

            "Somehow I doubt that." Horn answered back. "We used ultralightweight metals in the design. And the base of the pack where your wings would rest in outside of normal use is coated with TitaniTefloAlloy. That way, no nasty surprises when somebody shoots you in the back. Trust me, I know how to build things."

            "So why did you make Allegro do it?" Wycost mused dryly. Horn lifted his Blue Blockers up and rolled his eyes.

            "Because he can, too. He just doesn't think he can."

            "Aaw, lay offa me." Allegro said, blushing a bit.

            "Let's just hope you didn't screw up." Doan added, turning the pack around and touching the activation pad on it.

            In one smooth beam of light, the pack disappeared from Doan's hands and reappeared, integrated with the rest of his body armor.

            Doan shifted around a bit, popped the wings out, then popped them back in. He nodded and let the Flight Armor vanish away, leaving him in his normal armor.

            "Nice." He said appreciatively. "Integrates with my systems real nice."

            "You can thank Miss Cleo for that." Horn said with a grin. "And I mean your girlfriend, not the psychic."

            "Got a problem against psychics?" Wycost asked, lifting an eyebrow above the rim of his glasses.

            Horn shrugged. "Just the fake ones that charge money."

            "Right." Wycost replied back, slipping his eyebrow to normal.

            "And in the next room, we have the newest addition to our little shop of horrors." Allegro chirped. "A reploid by the name of Willow."

            "Willow?" Doan asked, turning to Wycost. "Who's Willow?"

            "You know, the…" Wycost began, but caught himself. "Waittasec, I never told you about Willow."

            "Apparently not." Doan said back, folding his arms. "What's the deal?"

            "In my quest to keep an eye on Bristol for Bastion, I've also bumped into Willow several times. Red hair, green eyes, Irish lilt, plasmic explosive launchers embedded in her wrist gauntlets, beam whip…"

            "Excuse me?" Doan interrupted calmly, a declaration of surprise for him.

            "A Beam. Whip." Wycost went slower. "I know you haven't seen anything like it. Trust me, IT WORKS. But I don't think we'll ever get into shop class anytime soon. Willow seems to know a lot about Bristol. A lot. And she's been trailing Bristol as doggedly as I have. And two days ago, she killed humans."

            "God." Doan mumbled. "Humans?"

            "She nearly died herself out there. But I couldn't let her. Until she gives me all the answers I need to know about Bristol, and just what she might be up to, Willow is better to me alive."

            "So instead of bringing her to the MHHQ, you took her here." Doan surmised. "Not a bad idea at all."

            "And today is the big day for us. We're going to wake Willow back up after her long nap and start asking her some questions." Wycost finished grimly.

            "And just where is she?" Doan queried.

            "The next room." Horn finished for him.

            The room Horn had mentioned was as dark as ever, until he pulled the remote control from his pocket and tapped the lights on. It was then that Doan got his first look at the 'Maverick' Wycost had described. But for once, Doan had very little to say.

            "Wow." He finally motioned. Wycost snorted and stood next to Horn.

            "So? Boot her up. Every second that ticks by is one more I'm not out there trailing Bristol."

            "My, aren't you in a hurry." Horn teased. "But very well." He walked next to Willow and pressed some keys on his datapadd. The reactivation sequence command was sent into Willow's body, and the ex-URFAWP leader stepped back.

            "I think we need a little insurance." Allegro muttered, stepping to the side of the pack of people inside the room and bringing his black beam staff to life.

            Willow slowly came about, flexing one arm for a moment before sensing a sound she had learned to live in fear of.

            Catching every last person in the room by surprise, Willow snapped up as if she was on a spring. As if responding to her, the beam whip lying on the table beside Wycost vanished in a puff of light and reappeared in her hand…warped, no doubt.

            Before Allegro could make a move to the contrary, Willow had snapped her beam whip on and severed off his saber hand with a deft snap. But there the violence stopped.

            Everyone sort of stood there for several moments, too stunned at what had happened to make a move. And then Allegro shrieked.

            "MY HAND! Goddamnit, YOU SLICED OFF MY HAND!!"

            And there his hand lay…the circuitry lying bare for all to see with its severed purple blood vessels that indicated all too clearly how severe the damage had been.

            "Oh, God…You're reploid…" Willow mumbled in shock.

            Doan was on top of her in a flash, sending the beam whip skittering in another direction as he pinned her knees to the floor and held her arms behind her back.

            Wycost drily lifted his sunglasses and looked at her.

            "In the future, don't chop my friends' arms off." There was a glimmer of disgust in his eyes then. "It doesn't exactly help to positively influence your track record."

            Willow grunted and strained against Doan, fire burning in her eyes.

            "Get off of me!" She growled. Doan tightened his grip.

            "You have GOT to be kidding me. After what you pulled on Allegro?"

            "Look, I didn't know he was a reploid, I thought he was…"

            "Human?" Wycost interjected bitterly. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did."

            "God, are all you Hunters this shortsighted?!" Willow snapped.

            "Watch it there, babe. I'm a Hunter." Doan interjected, tightening his grip on her arms. The added side effect to his keeping her arms immovable was that it pushed her upper chest forth and arched her back, making it hard for even the stoic Wycost to keep his eyes above her neck.

            "I could have killed you out there, you know." Wycost finally said, crossing his arms.

            Willow looked up from the ground, eyes defiant behind her slightly mussed red hair. "So why didn't you?"

            "Because you have answers, and I've got questions. And they concern Bristol."

            "God, you're still after that angle…" Willow growled defiantly. She turned her head partway around and glared at Doan. "Would you PLEASE let me go?"

            "Sorry, not planning to anytime soon." Doan said back.

            Horn was kneeling next to Allegro, who lay on the floor with his one functioning hand clutching onto his stump of an arm.

            "Give me a couple of hours, I'll have Allegro's hand back on." He promised easily. The kit of repair tools and equipment beside him was powerful evidence he could indeed carry through on his promise.

            "So just what exactly do you want to know?" Willow sighed. Wycost's eyes were hard.

            "Everything. Why you're after Bristol."

            "I'm after Bristol to save her."

            "Like Hell…"

            "SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND LISTEN!!" Willow screamed at him. Her green eyes flared out, fuming beyond mere disgust. There was fear in them then. It subdued Wycost, at least, and Willow continued. "Look, despite what you may believe, I'M not the one out to cause harm to Bristol. She lost her memory about everything…And now there's people after her who want nothing better than to end her life. Simply because of what she is, and what she knows."

            "People?" Wycost asked back, narrowing his gaze. "Next, you're going to tell me those humans you killed in Alaska were the ones after her."

            "One of many." Willow murmured. "Those were just two among an elite group of one hundred."

            "Oh, fer Chrissakes…" Allegro growled, weakly waving his only functioning hand. "You're going to actually believe this shit? SHE SLICED MY HAND OFF!!"

            Whatever retorts or comebacks might have been issued were silenced by a sudden frantic chittering from the ceiling.

            Wycost and Doan's faces went to the ceiling, both of their faces instantly cold as stone.

            "And just what does that little sound mean?" Doan murmured.

            Horn took off his Blue Blockers and frowned darkly.

            "Unauthorized warp transfer, fifty miles out. It triggered when Doan got here too, but my outside monitors allowed me to get an all clear on him."

            "So who is it this time?"

            "THEM." Willow said, her face shining in fear and hatred at the same time. "The people after Bristol…they've come here."

            "What? Why would they come here?!" Wycost snapped. "Bristol isn't here, she…" Wycost stopped himself, and Willow spoke up softly.

            "But I'm here. And as pathetic as it is, they're after me as well." She turned her head one last time to Doan. "Now, unless you all fancy being sliced to ribbons for no good reason, ye'd best free me." Wycost looked at Doan and nodded his head slowly.

            Once Doan's grip on her arms was loosened, Willow was back on her feet in one fluid motion. She checked herself over for a few moments and harrumphed.

            "Whoever patched me up…ye did a fantastic job."

            "Oh, that'd be me." Horn ventured, offering a somewhat lackluster smile. "J.K. Horn, eccentric engineer at your service."

            "Wycost I know." Willow grunted back. "Now, who's the unlucky chap I de-handed?"

            "The name's Allegro. And can I ask why you pulled that?"

            "Instinct." Willow said, her eyes darkening. "You just had to use a black bladed beam staff, didn't you?" She reached down and scooped it up for a moment. Her eyes flared for a brief moment before she placed it beside him. "This is one of MI9's. Just where in the blazes did you come across this?!"

            "Train shipment." Allegro muttered weakly. "My brother and I stole them while the sucker was still moving."

            "Unbelievable." Willow said, shaking her head.

            "MI9?" Wycost asked, crossing his arms. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something clicked…that night, so very long ago, with the last mission he had performed in the service of the Maverick Hunters…a night that led to him coming back and having to deal with Bastion being crushed by the news of Bristol's departure, and her mad search of an unknown past that connected to a thing she called 'MI9'. "Are you telling me that…"

            "Precisely." Willow finished. She stared at Wycost. "You were sent to look for Bristol because she is very special to a friend of yours."

            "She's Bastion's fiancée." Wycost defended. Willow cracked a grin at that.

            "Fiancee? Oh, that's rich…" The smile faded quickly. "But let me tell you something. The past she left behind SHOULD have been left behind. Nothing good ever came from back then. Nothing."

            "You knew her?"

            "She was my partner." Willow murmured. "God, I never thought it would come to this. But it's all started again, no matter how hard we tried to avoid it…"

            The chirping grew louder.

            "They're fifteen seconds out!" Horn said louder this time. He looked at them anxiously. "If these people are unfriendly, it would be best if you got moving NOW."

            "Allegro, do you have enough energy to fight?" Willow said sharply, turning her head down.

            "Are you kidding me?" Allegro muttered, lifting his head and turning his glazed eyes to her. "Getting a part of yourself hacked off isn't exactly peachy for your health. ESPECIALLY IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY HEART TANKS."

            "Just thought I'd ask." Willow said darkly, reaching for her beam whip and grasping it firmly. "Because these fellows don't fool around."

            It was Wycost, Doan, and a newly awakened Willow that appeared out in front of Horn's mansion to face the incoming hordes.

            And five appeared there. Five very angry, and very well cloaked figures, donned from head to toe in black that hid their true physique as well as their faces.

            Horn clambered onto the roof, a stun Buster latched onto his right arm. With one narrowed eye, he stared down at the masses below. This didn't look good…not one bit.

            "Willow." The leader of the five MI9 operatives said loudly, stepping forth and pointing. "You've caused us a lot of grief."

            "This coming from the warriors that would instill genocide. You want sympathy? Visit a talk show." Willow snapped back.

            The five figures pulled back their black hoods to reveal their faces. Three male, two female. But every one of them had a sheen in their eyes that betrayed the intelligence they carried.

            Pure venom seemed to burn through them. A venom beyond logic…pure, undying hatred that never stopped. It chilled Wycost. Even the ironhearted Doan had to shiver at the sight.

            Willow merely scoffed and extended her beam whip's metal links out.

            "What? Aren't you going to summon The Trembling?"

            "We don't need the added effect of Berserker Beacons to slag you." One of the females, a redhead in the back snorted. "It's five against four. You don't stand a chance."

            In unison, every one of the MI9 operatives ignited their beam staffs, causing ten black blades of light to appear in the tropical sun.

            "It's not easy tracking you down, Willow. You're a hard person to find. But now that part of the problem is done with, and you're dead…You're just a loose end."

            "Enough talk. I'm your only way to get to Bristol, and I'm never squealing." Willow challenged bitterly.

            At that, the operative laughed.

            "Oh, you are so utterly pathetic…you don't realize it, do you? WE ALREADY HAVE BRISTOL."

            That statement caught Willow completely off guard. She had been prepared for their threats. For their taunts and jeers, and their utter hatred. But not that.

            Not the news that they had Bristol.

            "No." She said. But it wasn't in the defiant tone that everyone on the island had grown accustomed to. It wasn't even in the initial somewhat cheerful disposition that Wycost had first heard Willow's voice in. It was quiet, empty, and hollow…

            "NO." She said, louder this time. Her eyes glazed back over, and she shook her head. "There is NO WAY that you have Bristol."

            "Oh, but we do." The leader of the five said, his tone brimming with malice. "Lem and Earl picked her up just outside of Juneau. Locked her in on the Beacon, ran her out of town, then dragged her in."

            "You sick…" Willow hissed, shaking her head. "Why didn't you just end her life out there instead of dragging her back to the HQ?"

            "We have our reasons." The leader said, his voice growing sterner now. "But those don't concern you now. You don't have the time to worry about Bristol's trials. You have your own to deal with."

            At that, Willow ignited her beam whip and cracked it on the ground with a resounding snap. Likewise, Doan pulled out his beam lance and brought it to life, and Wycost formed his Buster, making sure to set his weapons to his blinding Strobe. He dropped his glasses down and stared ahead.

            "As long as I live, you shall never triumph." Willow choked out, nostrils flaring.

            The leader cracked a half smile and shook his head.

            "Well…You're not going to be living much longer."

            Bristol snapped awake with a gasp. Or, at least she tried to. In horror, she found that she was unable to move her arms or legs. Only her neck muscles could respond to her command, allowing her to crane her neck in almost every direction. She looked down, and realized why.

            She was restrained to a table. There was a smell in the air, a clean, antiseptic smell that filled the room, mixing with the distinctive scent of ozone.

            "Aah, finally awake, I see." Came a somewhat scratchy voice from not far off.

            Bristol's head jerked about in surprise, staring at the sound of the voice. But its owner was hidden in a patch of shadows in a corner of the room.

            "Where am I?!" Bristol nearly screamed. "Who are you?!"

            "Next you're going to ask, 'Why am I not dead after being attacked by those two men on the outskirts of Juneau, especially considering how dead frightened I was?'" The voice called amusedly. "But I assure you, dear Bristol, there is answers for all these things. There are answers for everything that's ever troubled you."

            "Who are you??" Bristol asked again, quieter this time, but with the fear in her voice still intact.

            "Oh, come now…surely, you must remember me. For the longest time, I WORKED with you. Well, perhaps I was more of your supervisor, I never got that part straight…For now, let's just say I'm an old friend." The figure waved his hand in the air and chuckled. "But let's get to your other questions first. For one, why aren't you dead? That's simple enough. You know something we need. Next, why are you shackled to the table? Once you remember enough, that question will answer itself."

            At that, the figure stepped out of the shadows, and into the room's lights. His haggard face was nearly aglow in anticipation, causing Bristol to cringe. But then she did a double take…and let her jaw drop as something deep in the back of her mind began to click home.

            "Ta…Tarkin?" Bristol called out hesitatingly. Tarkin's eyes flashed in joy and he rubbed his hands together.

            "Amazing! Simply amazing! Despite the fact you've fried your memories, you still manage to pull back my nomenclature!"

            "I…" Bristol began, then stopped and shook her head. "I don't understand." Her eyes went glassy. "Just what is going on here?"

            "Well, I think we can answer the rest of your questions. You are back where you began, Bristol. The main headquarters of MI9. It was months ago that you and another one in the R & D Department managed to escape us. We've been looking for you ever since. And lo and behold, who should show up in the nick of time but our dear old mad scientist Bristol?"

            "Mad scientist??" Bristol croaked uneasily. "Just what are you talking about?" Tarkin looked surprised for a moment, then reared his head back and laughed. Long and loud and hard.

            When he finally returned back to normal and cleared the redness from his eyes, he chortled a bit. "You must have done a better job constructing those memory wipers than we thought possible. You truly were one of our best and brightest. But I assure you, my old friend, all will become clear soon enough."

            "What do you mean?" Bristol mumbled. Tarkin's eyes took on a venomous look at that.

            "Oh, it's quite simple. We need some information that only you know…or KNEW, as the case now is. So in order to access it, we need to reverse the effects of your memory wiper. Connect all those scattered, random tidbits of memory that have undoubtedly appeared from time to time." His index fingers pressed against one another as he talked, a tic from the madness in his mind. "And I told you that eventually, you would be able to answer your own questions. I wasn't lying, old friend. Retrieving our information will cause every other memory in your mind to restore itself. It never left you…you simply lost any ability to remember it."

            "Just what is a memory wiper? And how do you intend on carrying out this process?!" Bristol demanded frantically. "I've examined myself. That chunk of data in my memory banks is unreadable. UNREADABLE!!"

            "Only because you made it so." Tarkin corrected her firmly. He turned to the ceiling and snapped his fingers.

            At his command, the ceiling tiles parted a ways to allow a cumbersome ray of some sort to descend down. It hung over Bristol's head menacingly, seemingly a tool of the damned.

            "This is what we'll use to bring your memories back up to speed." Tarkin said confidently. "Meet the antithesis to your memory wipers…The ReMemorizer."

            Tarkin turned about and walked into the shadows once again. Bristol drew in several deep breaths, shaking her head and holding her eyes tightly shut.

            "No. This isn't real. This isn't real, it's all a nightmare…And I'll wake up, and I won't be here, I'll be back with Bastion…"

            "Oh, so THAT'S the fellow's name in that picture with you." Tarkin's voice rang out. He laughed a bit. "I was wondering why you carried it around in that locket. Now I know. You managed to find love while you were gone…Well, too bad it never lasts. Nothing ever does."

            The room's lights began to dim down, until only the illumination of the conical device pointing at Bristol's head gave her something for her eyes to look at.

            "I assure you, Bristol. This is no dream. You've been living in a dream, and I'm about to give you a very rude wakeup call." Tarkin laughed darkly. "Bristol…welcome back to Hell."

            A blinding flash overtook everything…

            And then Bristol remembered.

            She remembered everything.

            "Fannir?" Bristol called out from her desk. Instantly, the red and violet colored reploid stopped where he was walking and made a beeline. Within moments, he was standing beside her, primping himself and brushing back his hair.

            "What can I do for you, my sweet?" Bristol rolled her eyes.

            "For one, kill your libido. And two, could you tell me where Willow made off to? I've got a few questions for her."

            "Oh, if I recall, she mentioned something about giving those new bio-implants a run for their money."

            "Those bio-implants are designed to enhance HUMAN performance." Bristol muttered. "Doesn't that Irish irregular remember that? It was in my design notes, for Jiminy's sake."

            "Oh, she knows just as well as the rest of us do. I said she was giving THEM a run for their money." Bristol reconsidered Fannir's statement, then slapped her head.

            "Of all the…" She stood up, almost fuming now. "I'm buried deep in the final pre-production notes of human warp transfer capabilities, and she's FIGHTING WITH THE BIO-IMPLANT TEST GROUP?!"

            She grabbed her datapadd and stormed off, Fannir following close behind.

            The passageways of MI9's main building were almost a maze to the untrained wanderer. Take one wrong turn, and you'd end up in the warp chamber conduits that reploids used to get from MI9 base to base instead of the cafeteria, the R&D labs, or the controlled condition rooms.

            For the moment, Bristol needed only get to the controlled rooms. That was where they held tests on the most revolutionary equipment. The gaze on her face bordered on murderous. Far too often Willow had done other things like this. She was positively BOTHERSOME…

            "Hey, take it easy on her!" Fannir called out from somewhere behind. Even when he was running, he had a tough time keeping up with Bristol's furious pace. And she wasn't even using dash thrusters. "It wasn't her idea! The suits wanted to give it a go!"

            That stopped her pace for a moment. But only a moment, as her anger switched its attentions and she kept going.

            "There are times these bureaucrats give me fits. What, do they think we have nothing better to do than jump around like monkeys? Next, they'll be throwing us bananas for performing parlor tricks." She fumed.

            Willow kept her gray beam saber held in both hands, edging around the room with her eyes flickering this way and that. There were three of them…one of her…never good odds.

            Her three opponents were human, each armed with their own beam saber. All of them were tuned down to low power settings, tightening the EM field so much and decreasing the plasma output that whoever got smacked would feel little more than a quick sensation of heat, much like one would expect if they grabbed a freshly rinsed piece of flatware.

            Up above the combat room, in an observation room with a large one way window looking down, several men sat and watched anxiously. Among them was the noted GDC Representative Emilius Cristoph. Dr. Tarkin stood beside the window, speaking so that his voice might add to the demonstration.

            "As you can see, the 'bio-implants' as they're called, are designed to enhance human capabilities. Reaction time, speed, power…Enough so that they can become equal to, if not stronger than the average reploid."

            Willow's green eyes refused to let the three of them intimidate her. But she knew Geoffrey, Tim, and Jowers were good. Very good. She'd seen them in action before, but never with bio-implants.

            It was a completely different ballgame with them armed with newfound abilities. Tim charged in, screaming and waving his own dimmed beam saber with a blood curdling shriek. Willow ducked down to avoid his immediate stab, but found herself tumbling backwards to avoid the downswipe that followed. Silently, she cursed at herself as she got back up to her feet. She should have been able to block that attack…

            "Nice moves, boys. But you're still short of the mark."

            Geoffrey laughed at that.

            "Not today, Willow. We're armed, dangerous, and raring to go."

            "But you're still human." Willow said with a waspish smile, zig-zagging her beam saber in the air a few times as easily as she might wave a fencing foil.

            And then they charged in again.

            Up above, Cristoph narrowed his hawkish eyes at Tarkin.

            "So how much do these 'bio-implants' enhance human performance factors?"

            "In most cases, their reaction time is improved by as much as fifty times, they can jog at bursts of sixty miles an hour for fifteen seconds at a time, and withstand far greater abuse."

            "Just where are these bio-implants located?" Asked another MI9 member, watching the fight below with wary eyes.

            "Well, of course there's the central one we insert into the brain. Then there are smaller nodules for the eyes, the hands, the muscles of the arms and legs…"

            "There is…one thing that concerns me." Another MI9 member brought up, lifting his spectacles from the rim of his nose to look at Tarkin directly. "You said 'in most cases'. Have there been times where the procedure of using bio-implants did not go as planned?"

            That was where Tarkin hesitated.

            "WELL?!" The MI9 member asked again, this time his voice utterly demanding an answer.

            "There have been…unfavorable outcomes at times." Tarkin finally admitted, his face growing a little paler. "First activation of the bio-implants creates an incredible amount of strain on every single part of the human body. It's not just adding mechanical parts for interaction. A part of the process is changing the chemical composition of the body, to allow for more effective use of the new equipment."

            "In layman's terms, Doctor." The MI9 agent growled, folding his arms. "I have to write a report on this to the Supreme Council later. I'd like to know the precise risks."

            "In short, there have been rare cases where the changes brought about by the bio-implants resulted in madness, paranoia, insanity…" Tarkin's voice grew softer, until he finally shrugged. "You get the idea."

            "Then it would seem this project has far more risks than it does benefits." The last MI9 agent announced.

            "Not so, sir." Came a new voice. Everyone turned about, and Tarkin looked flabbergasted to find himself staring at the reploid in pink and blue, with long blond hair, pink highlights, and a very angry foot tapping on the ground. She stepped up next to Tarkin and bowed. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. I wasn't informed of today's impromptu test of the bio-implants. My name is Bristol…I am the one who designed them."

            "A REPLOID built these?" Cristoph muttered, his face darkening. Bristol stared right back at him, face unwavering. She'd dealt with him before. Anti-reploid extremist in MI9, and a real ignoble jerk to boot. But he no longer frightened her.

            "Believe it or not, reploids are capable of many wonderful things." Bristol chirped. "We don't all have grand plans of human genocide on our minds, despite what Sigma and the Mavericks might imply." She pointed down to the group below. "Tarkin has informed you of some of the rare cases. I would like to allay your fears, if I may." She turned to face them directly and folded her arms. "When we first began testing the bio-implants on some of our human test subjects, we got mixed responses. Some people's physical bodies accepted the changes brought about easily. Others, as Tarkin has mentioned, went completely off kilter." She stepped closer to the window and pointed down. "The reason is simple. Some humans just have the right brain chemistry for the procedure, and some don't." She pointed below. "Take those three, for instance. Geoffrey and Tim in particular showed excellent results, with no alterations whatsoever to their pre-existing memories or temperaments. From the successful cases, we've built a model to test all prospective bio-implant candidates with. If they don't match the neurological specifications shared by our positive cases, then the bio-implants would cause harm to them. In this way, we've minimalized casualties."

            "And yet you've still taken losses."

            "There were scientists and engineers long before I lived that once helped to discover the wonders of radioactivity…as well as its not so desirable effects." She shook her head. "Losses come with the exploration of new terrority, I'm sorry to say."

            "Wait on a second, the fight's heating up!" Cristoph said, his voice filled with a sudden exhilarating joy.

            Everyone turned to watch.

            Willow dashed to the side to avoid Geoffrey's thrust, and found herself facefirst into a wide slash offered by Tim. She let out a cry of surprise and jumped back, only to be kicked forward by the waiting Jowers.

            Damn, just where in blazes did he come from…

            She righted herself as quickly as possible and did a full 360 sweep slash about, sending Tim and Geoffrey jumping backwards to avoid it. But they returned quickly, beam sabers raised in unison for an attack to level her, and Jowers charging from behind.

            "Not today, boys!" Willow said defiantly, jumping up into the air and igniting her double time variable air-dash, pushing herself higher and higher up beyond their reach.

            But then Geoffrey pulled a move that caught the adept warrior completely by surprise. Defying all gravity, he burst towards the nearby wall at breakneck speed, slamming feetfirst into it and jumping off as he might have done if it had been the floor. Willow had no chance to react before he was upon her, slashing in midair to stop her rapid retreat and send her sprawling back towards the hard floor below. Her armor screamed at her, a blistering heat mark pronounced across her entire torso from the strike.

            Blast it, if that had been real, I'd be dead…

            Grunting, Willow landed flat on her back to find three separate beam sabers held against her neck. She shut her eyes for a moment and sighed, shutting her own weapon off.

            "All right boys…you win this round." Geoffrey, Tim, and Jowers all smirked at each other for a few gloating moments before turning around and walking out of the room.

            "Next time, Willow, you won't be so lucky." Jowers taunted one final time. Willow cracked an easy grin and shook a fist at them.

            "Next time, I'll know to expect ANYTHING."

            "Well, I'm impressed." Cristoph said, rubbing his hands together as if he'd just opened a Christmas present. He turned to the others, face aglow. "I don't see any problems as to why this project can't be carried out to its fullest. Just what were you thinking of, exactly, Doctor?" He addressed his question to Tarkin, of course, completely ignoring Bristol. The brilliant reploid scientist fumed for a moment before clearing her throat and gaining their attention.

            "Once we have completed the test phase, the production phase of the bio-implant project would call for precisely one hundred MI9 agents to undergo the procedure. Discounting Jowers, Geoffrey, and Tim, this gives us a need for 97 more to create a perfect one hundred. We would divide them into teams of two, giving MI9 fifty bio-implant equipped teams to rely on."

            "And just what would these enhanced humans do, exactly?"

            "About the same duties as reploids currently hold, I imagine." Bristol said. She turned to them, hardly believing that some of these suits were so dense they couldn't see the grand vision. "MI9 has always prided itself on having eyes and ears everywhere. With enhanced humans carrying out those duties, you will have the same spy network. Only with abilities rivaling a reploid's. I don't need to explain further the benefits this poses, do I?"

            "No. No, you don't." Cristoph chuckled. "A job well done, reploid. A job well done."

            "My name is BRISTOL." Bristol said tersely. Cristoph's smile faded a bit, and she added the perfunctory, "Sir."

            "So it is, so it is…" Cristoph murmured begrudgingly. He turned to the other MI9 bureacurats and nodded. "I believe we've seen enough, gentlemen. Who's up for drinks at my place?"

            They walked out, leaving a fuming Bristol, a worried Tarkin, a puzzled Fannir, and a very groused Willow behind.

            Willow turned to the exit door as it hissed open, letting Bristol walk in.

            "Why, hello the…"

            "QUIET." Bristol fumed, holding a finger at Willow. "You just be quiet and listen. I wasn't prepared for that presentation. And you sure as Hell weren't, either."

            "I didn't exactly have a choice, dearie!" Willow said back annoyed. "Like it or not, we jump when they say so."

            "What, so you volunteered yourself into the line of fire?" Bristol fumed. "Look, what if there had been a mistake today? What if one of their beam sabers hadn't been set to low power? What if they'd somehow gone berserk and torn your head off?!"

            "I highly doubt that, Brist." Willow said back drily, tucking her beam saber away. "Geoffrey, Jowers and Tim may be guinea pig recruits from one of the worst prisons in the world, but they're hardly psychotic."

            "Umm, if I may say something…" Came Tarkin's voice from behind. Both reploids turned and snapped,

            "WHAT?!!" At the same time. Tarkin jumped back, then nervously began to push his index fingers together as he spoke.

            "Look, this may not be the best time, but Bristol, it doesn't do to exacerbate your already sour relationship with Representative Cristoph."

            "Representative Cristoph is a racist pig who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut." Bristol snapped back.

            "Even so, he is one of the most influential men in our organization's outreach community. He carries a lot of clout because of his position in the world order."

            "Whatever." Bristol murmured, shaking her head. "Just…whatever. Look, I'm not going to be cooling down anytime soon. I'm going to get myself a drink before I punch a hole in the wall."

            She excused herself and left. But Willow somehow decided to tag along, much to Bristol's chagrin.

            "What is it now, Willow?" Bristol muttered lowly.

            "Look, I…" Willow began, stopping herself and grabbing ahold of Bristol's arm to stop her deliberate, angry march. "Look. I'm sorry for what happened today. But it wasn't my fault, and I certainly didn't intend on getting killed today."

            "Just be more careful." Bristol said, her eyes tired. "You're one of the few people in this organization I give a damn about. I don't want to lose you to a lab accident."

            "It's no secret I'm better in a fight than I am in a lab." Willow replied. "But I'm not about to go dying on you. No, as long as I have to worry about you, I'm afraid I'm stuck living."

            The two cracked a smile at that. Bristol finally released her tensions in a long sigh and shrugged her shoulders.

            "Well, work can wait. What are you up for?"

            "Is that really a question that needs asking?" Willow said, lifting an eyebrow.

            The two of them shouted the answer at the same time.

            "IRISH COFFEE!!"

            "Sigma?" Came Iris's quiet voice.

            "Yes?" he answered back, turning his head about to hear who was addressing him. His eyes quieted down when he saw it was his favorite Maverick. "What can I do for you, Iris?"

            "I…Had a question." Iris replied uneasily. She dug her toe into the concrete floor of their underground facility and shook her head. "When I fought Zero yesterday, how did he know me?" Sigma stood there for a few moments, as if pondering her question. But then his eyes grew dim and his face dropped.

            "I knew this time would come." Sigma answered back heavily, turning around and shaking his head. "Follow me into the lounge."

            It was empty. So Sigma had little trouble occupying one of the larger seats in the room and offering Iris a chair more comparable to her smaller size. She primly crossed her legs, and Sigma rested his arms on his seat's armrests.

            "The reason he knows you Iris, is because you have lived once before. When I pulled you from that capsule, you were being reborn."

            "Who was I?" Iris whispered, her eyes growing large. Sigma blinked a few times, his red eyes almost holding sadness in them.

            "A martyr. An innocent that got caught in the conflict." Sigma shook his head. "When the Fourth Maverick Uprising began, you pleaded and begged for Zero not to fight. But he wouldn't listen. Zero is nothing more than a heartless warrior, made so since he was activated. He didn't listen to you then. He killed you. In cold blood, Iris, he killed you. For all the hope you held that he might have a good spirit somewhere inside of him, he killed you. And then I was left to mourn your passing." Sigma shut his eyes. "I didn't want you to get caught in it. Not then. You always followed your heart. You were pure, untainted by deception or greed. I missed you more ever day after that."

            "Sigma…" Iris said, her optics shining a little brighter as she got out of her seat and stepped towards him. "I'm sorry."

            "Sorry that you died? You could have done nothing more. You were innocent, naïve…and in the end, you paid for his treachery." Sigma let out a ragged breath, looking sadder than ever. "That's why he was so shocked when he saw you. Because he thought you were dead. He had killed you. And I brought you back…it was too much for him."

            "And next time?" Iris said quietly, hopping up to his seat's armrest and leaning in close to his face, her eyes shining into his.

            "And next time, Iris…I shall avenge you. For your sake, I will destroy Zero."

            Iris smiled, a sweet innocent smile that betrayed her tender heart and the warped reality she believed in. Before Sigma could make a move to the contrary, she had leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

            And somehow, Sigma kept the embrace, pulling his massive hand about to run through her long brown hair. It was an unbelievable emotion that coarsed through him.

            But never in his dark heart did he forget why he was doing this.

            Revenge…

            Zero looked a sorry sight. His armor was torn asunder from the floating mines Iris had unleashed. But luckily, for the most part he had dodged the massive laser cannon attached to her arm. Still, that did little to help him.

            Iris, ensnared within the confines of the gargoyle 'Mech, slowly moved towards him, feet hanging from the ground as she moved by thrusters alone. Another wave of mines flew out from the misshapen 'Mech, moving towards Zero with nothing but hostile intentions in mind.

            "Iris, PLEASE!!" Zero screamed again. But even as he screamed that plea, a part of him knew she couldn't respond. That she was too far gone, that Colonel's power had driven her insane.

            And it's all my fault, God forgive me, but it's my fault…

            "NOO!! YOU MURDERER, IT ENDS HERE!! YOU WON'T GET ANY FURTHER!!"

            The mines drew closer, and Zero slashed them to pieces before they could go off beside him. And still another wave drew nearer…

            "REPLIFORCE WANTED PEACE!! Tell me, WHY CAN'T YOU AND THE HUNTERS AND THE GDC ACCEPT THAT?!"

            And Zero had no answer for her then. It had all been nothing but a mess. People throwing accusations, passing on blame…And Repliforce was the group that suffered the punishment.

            But Zero had to live. He had to. Something deep inside him screamed that no matter what happened, his own life came before all else.

            He threw down a Rakuhouha pellet, letting the wide dispersal of plasmic explosives wipe out the mines. One blast even managed to fly on and slice off about three inches of the 'Mech's massive foot.

            No words were spoken after that. Just screams.

            Iris leveled her laser cannon, charged up, and fired. Zero barely made it to the wall in time to avoid the blistering beam, and then had to force himself to make a dash jump to clear a second beam that went completely vertical up after him.

            He landed in front of the 'Mech and held his saber high…bringing it across the length of its chest in one mighty slash.

            It was then that something odd happened, startling Zero for the briefest of moments. The purple power crystal that had belonged to Colonel emerged from the 'Mech.

            Zero's mind was a mess by that point. Iris's attacks had dropped him below half of his total Internal Operations Energy, and his grief, disbelief, and anger were all intertwined into a bittersweet mixture that drugged his thoughts.

            And then he snapped. As if something else took over, all doubts and fears in his mind faded away like vapors. Leaving only the power crystal floating before him, the realization that if he were to destroy it, this would all end, and the knowledge that his beam saber lay ready and capable in his grip.

            No words. No final cry. Just the action. Zero's saber grew brighter, flaring in that defiant moment as he jammed it clean through the power crystal, forever destroying it. It cracked from the blow, then collapsed to the ground as shards.

            But then Iris screamed. A long, painful scream, as if Zero had jammed his beam saber into her, and not her brother's power core. It broke him free of his trance, and Zero stood agape for a few moments before he realized what had happened.

            And then when the explosion blew the 'Mech apart, Zero went with it, impacting into the wall with a sickening crunch.

            Silence filled the room then. Zero's beam saber hissed off, and he put it back into its recharge sheathe. And then the guilt of what had transpired hit him.

            Running from the shadows, he went to where he'd last seen Iris…trapped within the mess of the gargoyle 'Mech.

            And there she lay. Unmoving, surrounded in a pile of rubble.

            "Iris…" Zero called out disbelievingly, his eyes quiet and forlorn. He ran next to her, lifted her head, shook her. "IRIS!!"

            God, please no…Iris, don't be dead…

            He didn't know what had took him. But it frightened him then. What he'd done.

            God, what have I done…

            But she moved, a gentle trembling throughout her body. It wasn't much…but she was alive.

            Her head tilted towards him, her eyes opened. Faint, weak…And somehow, Zero knew she was dying. He'd seen it before. That silent weakness in a reploid's eyes. Countless times. And each time he saw it, he was powerless to stop it.

            "Zero…" She whispered.

            "Iris…" Zero said back, trying his hardest to fight the tears that threatened to spring to his eyes. But he knew from how she was that Colonel's power was no longer controlling her thoughts, warping them. By destroying Colonel's power core, he eliminated that second presence that had caused Iris to go insane…yet, at the same time, he had forced her into death. She'd been fused with the power. Without it, it was just a matter of time now.

            "Zero…stay away from Repliforce." Iris pleaded, eyes sadder now. "Please…too much suffering has come about. Just for once, can't you stop fighting?"

            "Iris, I'm sorry…" Zero confessed, a tear rolling out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head, trying to clear it away.

            "Let's live together, in a world where only reploids exist…" Iris pleaded with him. "Please, Zero…for me, stop fighting."

            "There is no world just for reploids, Iris." Zero replied back, feeling his own heart break. "It's only a fantasy!"

            "I know, but…I wanted to believe it!" Iris nearly sobbed then. "I just wanted to live in that world…with you…" Her hand came up, as if reaching to caress his face one final time. Zero clasped his hands around it, holding her tightly.

            "Iris…" Zero choked out, looking down into her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

            "I'm dying, Zero. I'm going to die." Iris said, her eyes growing dimmer as a tear rolled out of them. "I don't want to die. I'm so scared…I'm so alone…"

            "You're not alone, Iris." Zero said, squeezing her hand tighter. He sniffed for a moment and shook his head. "No, you're not alone. I'm here, Iris…I love you…"

            It was what she had wanted to hear all along, Zero realized. And then he realized another thing…that he'd been wanting to say that for a very long time.

            A contented smile filled her face then, and she sighed a sigh of happiness and relief.

            "Zero…"

            And then she died. Her eyes drooped shut, her smile faded, her head fell back to the ground.

            "…Iris?" Zero whispered, not believing his eyes. But when her limp hand fell from his grasp and hit the ground, he panicked. He grabbed her shoulders, shook her. "Iris! IRIS!!"

            And nothing came. Zero completely broke down at that moment.

            Iris…no, not Iris…I killed her, I killed her…

            "No, this isn't happening!! There's no reason for me to go on, what…" He stood up, cradling her dead body in his arms and tilted his head back. "WHAT AM I FIGHTING FOR?!!!"

            No answer came to him. Just empty, winding silence. Zero felt weak then. All the life drained out of him, and he slumped to his knees, Iris's body rolling back to the ground. He just knelt there, staring down at her, the tears from his eyes dropping at their slow pace, wetting the metallic hem of her dress.

            And then off in the distance, beyond the next revolving gateway, came a sound Zero didn't expect.

            Clapping. Slow and deliberate clapping.

            Zero turned his head, hardly even caring that someone else was nearby. Until the voice spoke up.

            "So you've done it. You've killed her." It was low, dark, almost scratchy. And it carried both a trace of disgust and cruel irony.

            Zero's eyes focused on who had said it. And despite the tears, his jaw hardened and his hands clenched up. "Sigma…"

            "Well, I always knew you were a ruthless son of a bitch, Zero." Sigma snorted, coming out of the shadows. And yet even then his figure was wrapped in uncertainty, his face within the confines of a deep hood, his body clothed in a tattered shroud. "Now, you've even gone and killed the one you loved. And just what did it gain you, Zero? Another inkblot to add to your ever increasing tally?"

            "Sigma, you should have died…" Zero croaked, shaking his head. "Two years ago…I hit you with that antivirus…"

            "Constructed by Doppler, I remember." Sigma said, red eyes flaring for a brief moment. "And don't you remember that the fool thought he had discovered a cure? Well, he had…he had found a way to destroy the weak version of the Maverick Virus. But he could never contend with my full strength. That's how I infected him, how I infected them all. It was only a matter of time, Zero. Only a matter of time before I grew strong enough and stretched out once more. For you see, I can't die." Sigma's eyes flashed. "And do you know why?"

            "You're a monster!!" Zero shouted, standing up in front of Iris, as if in some way trying to protect her.

            "And just what are you, then?" Sigma retorted, lifting a hand up and pointing an accusing finger at him. "The bleeding angel on high? Zero, you have no idea of the bloody past you carry."

            "And just what would you know about my past, Sigma?!" Zero shouted, drawing his beam saber out and igniting it. But Sigma said only one word. A word with so much power behind it that it stopped him dead in his tracks.

            "Everything."

            Zero paused, frozen by that single ominous word. Sigma laughed and took another step forward.

            "Zero…If only you could still remember how it all began. When I first met you…but you can't, because you lost all memory of that event. And the only ones who truly knew of what had transpired on that day were me and two scouts. The scouts perished in another mission soon after…and so it's just me now. I am the only person alive who knows. Who knows how you joined the Hunters." Sigma cackled.

            Zero shook his head.

            "Why should I believe you?! Why should I believe anything you say?! You're a Maverick!"

            "Tut, Zero…" Sigma chastised him, shaking his ponderous head. "Allow me to remind you that I was once the leader of the Maverick Hunters…"

            And then something took over. As if starlight exploded before Zero's eyes, he suddenly saw. Saw what Sigma had seen all those years ago…

            Where's that red Maverick that wiped out Garma's Unit?

            In…inside. He's inside that door…

            You may leave now…I'll take care of this personally!

            By yourself, Commander?!

            I don't want any more of my people being SACRIFICED.

            It was a massive door. In its prime, it must have been constructed to withstand a bombshell explosion. But now it gave way easily, destroyed from the inside out. And then Sigma had stepped inside, greeted with musty smells of forgotten time that attacked him. The lights were nonexistent…if power had once flowed through this place, it didn't now.

            And then Sigma paused where he stood, looking into the darkness and spying a lone figure, hunched over as if in deep thought. But then it turned, grunted in surprise at Sigma's approach…then screamed and charged at him.

            It was Zero who was attacking Sigma. Zero, with his bloody hands, his wild blond hair, and a lean figure that spoke of an inner strength…not nearly so evident as with Sigma, but somehow more hidden. And the glint in his eyes…intelligence that bordered on madness. Madness in red.

            For what seemed like an eternity, they fought. Sigma having the upper hand at first, throwing Zero about like a rag doll…yet each time the Prime Maverick Hunter kicked at the 'crazy red Maverick' and sent him through a wall…or facefirst into the crumbling ceiling…The Maverick came back, grinning fiercer than before, seemingly unfazed.

            And slowly the tide turned. As if the Maverick reveled in destruction, thrived on the pain Sigma gave him, he grew stronger, more determined…until when Sigma ignited his beam saber and the Maverick Zero used an aged section of anti-plasma piping to duel with, Zero triumphed and gashed Sigma's arm off, sending his beam saber collapsing to the ground uselessly.

            There was fear in Sigma's eyes then, as Zero drew nearer and nearer, a feral laugh rumbling low in his throat with that insane gleam in his eye.

            That was where Sigma had gotten the scars over his eyes. Like many other parts of the synthskin on his face, ripped off. It had begun there…Sigma had kept the scars from that battle. Through every Maverick Uprising since then, a pair of red gash marks over his eyes. In remembrance of that battle gone horribly awry.

            And Sigma had won. Somehow, Zero had frozen in his attack, somehow lost in a trance. He clutched at his head, screaming in agonizing pain…and Sigma took the opportunity, struck with all the power left in his remaining fist, and sent Zero collapsing in a heap.

            Take that red Maverick…back to the repair center. And, and call Doctor Cain…I wish to have that Maverick studied…

            Are you all right, Commander?

            SILENCE!

            And yet Sigma had turned around then, somehow different and changed from the events within those ancient hallways and rooms.

            No one is to know that the reploid inside that decrepit building is Maverick. Don't tell ANYONE of this.

            And then Zero blinked, and found himself back in the Final Weapon.

            Sigma hovered above him in the air, gloating.

            "Zero…you were a Maverick." And somehow, despite the shock, Zero didn't care then. Maybe that was why he always felt so driven to fight…but he didn't care.

            Sigma…Goddamn you, Sigma, what have you done?!

            "SO WHAT?!" Zero screamed back. Sigma laughed darkly.

            "Aah, Zero, you are most impressive. I've always watched you. You love to fight. You live for the scent of blood, the screams of fear from your victims. And that is why. It's in your very nature. You cannot deny it, cannot stop it."

            "Shut up!!" Zero growled, running at Sigma with his saber raised.

            Sigma pulled out a strange, twisted scythe from his back and ignited it, plasma biting against plasma before he parried and sent Zero crumpling backwards from the force of the blow.

            "You're pathetic at times." Sigma groused, now looking all the world as if he was the Grim Reaper. "Just utterly pathetic." A weakened Zero struggled to get up, but Sigma floated over and grabbed him by the neck. He held the Hunter aloft and breathed down into his face. "So what are you going to do now, Zero? Tell me…answer your own question…What are you fighting for?" Sigma cackled at that. "Forget the fact that fighting is in your blood. What reason, what purpose do you have for taking up that blood-spattered beam saber of mine and slashing Mavericks into the dust? It is a legend you carry with that blade. It is yours now, but there was a time it was mine. Whoever owns it seems destined for a path of endless destruction."

            "You're insane…"

            "Far from it, I'm afraid." Sigma said, his eyes flashing for one moment. "My thoughts have always been sound. My emotions measured carefully, never overdrawn. Through my genius, I have led Three…no, FOUR Maverick Uprisings." Sigma sneered at Zero, throwing him to the ground like a rag doll. "It's incredible how willing the GDC and the Maverick Hunters are to overreact. You fools just didn't get it…Repliforce was never the threat. I approached them at first, yes…But General would have none of it. I told him that he had enough power to CRUSH you and the rest of the Maverick Hunters…and that if he didn't, that one day you and X and the others would come for him. They would come and tear Repliforce apart."

            Sigma pulled back his hood so Zero could at last stare at his face. Sigma grinned darkly. "Did I lie?"

            "You bastard…" Zero rasped, getting up and pulling his saber to bear. "Goddamn you…"

            "Aside from Split Mushroom, Magma Dragoon, and Cyber Peacock, every Commander you and X destroyed was in possession of their full faculties. It was a simple matter to cause Repliforce to take the blame. A single Dragonian class Roploid sent to attack Sky Lagoon…Repliforce arriving first, and failing to stop it…And then they take the blame. How quick you and the Hunters were to accusation, and not reason. But admit it. You know why you were. You feared them. YOU DESPISED THEM."

            "SHUT UP!!!" Zero screamed, pulling out a Rakuhouha pellet and hurling it at Grim Reaper Sigma.

            The Maverick King merely faded out of sight, and reappeared after the explosion had ended. And the grin stayed.

            "And now, everything has come together as I have seen it. Repliforce lies in ruins, torn apart by the all too present and violent Maverick Hunters. The Final Weapon is launched…soon to be under my control…And I have won the most important victory of all, Zero." Sigma extended his free hand out and pointed with a toothy grin. "I have crushed you."

            "NEVER!!" Zero screamed, charging on. And Sigma merely faded away again…

            Reappearing beside Iris's still body.

            Zero turned about, his rage bleeding out of him and exhaustion taking its place.

            "Iris…" Zero croaked. Sigma knelt down beside her, reached a hand out and gently stroked her cheek.

            "All she wanted was to live in peace, Zero. She didn't want to fight. She didn't care about Mavericks or Maverick Hunters or the GDC…She just wanted to live in peace. Happy and content with the man she fell in love with." Sigma retracted his hand and pulled his hood back up, turning about and letting his dark red eyes glow from the shadows of his shroud. "And you killed her, Zero. You killed her." Sigma walked towards Zero, his voice turning from its quiet tone to sinister bitterness. "She wasn't an enemy, Zero. And you still killed her. You call me the monster…and you yourself kill without hesitation. You hide behind that veil of justice…that you fight to stop the Mavericks. But you can't hide behind that lie now. Not when we both know what you truly are. You are the true Reaper."

            Before Zero could move, a warp beam struck down and collapsed around him, clothing him in the same dark death shroud that Sigma wore.

            "You and I are not so different, no matter what your dogma cries…" Sigma mused darkly, folding his arms. "We both strive for one goal the same, to change this world so full of lies."

            Zero panicked and ripped the outfit off, shaking his head with wide eyes.

            "So what will you do now, Zero?" Sigma cackled. "Will you go on in this fight? You've already killed Colonel…and you've killed Iris…So who's next, Zero? Will you destroy Hazil one day? Perhaps even Cain? WOULD YOU KILL X??"

            "Never…NEVER…" Zero moaned, clutching at his head. And Sigma merely let his quiet laugh fill the room.

            "You are pathetic." Sigma said finally. "They could never forgive you for what you've done here. You've become more than a Maverick Hunter. And you're far worse than a Maverick."

            Sigma appeared behind Zero in a flash, his hot breath baking down the Crimson Hunter's neck.

            "Murderer…"

            And then Sigma was gone in a flash.

            Zero collapsed there on his knees, pounding the cold steel floor of the room with his hands. Exhaustion, rage, and unbelievable guilt mixed as one.

            His energy below half, his emotions strung out for all the world to see, and the woman he loved lying dead on the ground behind him, Zero pummeled his fists into the ground and screamed, an agonizing scream. His heart was beyond broken.

            It was shattered.

            Murderer…murderer…murderer…

            Zero uttered a cry somewhere between a gasp, a yelp, and an uncontrollable pained scream. And then it all faded.

            His nightmare faded. Reality set back in. Of where he was…what had happened.

            "Iris…" Zero whispered, putting a hand to his eyes to hide the fresh tears.

            "Morning, sunshine." Came another voice. Even without having to look up, Zero knew who it was.

            "X, what are you doing here?"

            "I got up." X said plainly. "And to tell you the truth, I'm more than a little pissed."

            "Like that's anything new." Zero said back, lowering his hand and pushing his pained feelings as far back as they would go. But X knew he was hiding them.

            "Snap out of it, Zero." He chirped bitterly. You and I both know you're hurting."

            "Like Hell. I've died before, X. Getting a little battle damage won't…"

            "I'm not talking about THAT." X said, impatiently tapping his boot on the floor and staring Zero in the face. "I'm talking about the fact that Sigma brought Iris back."

            And it was there that Zero's defenses began to slowly crumble.

            "And just what would you know about it?"

            "Zero, I know you better than anyone. I know you better than Sigma, despite what he may try to brainwash you with at times." X said firmly. "You and Iris were most definitely involved. I'd even go so far as to say you loved her. Loved her more than anything."

            "That doesn't matter anymore." Zero said hesitantly. And there X's sour mood went worse.

            "Zero, do you WANT to be an emotionless killing machine?!" Zero recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "Wake UP, big red. You're NOT. You have feelings. And like the rest of us, you have doubts, you have fears, worries…And you have your GRIEF."

            "Just what do you know about me?!" Zero shouted, getting up and staring at X.

            The Blue Bomber of 21XX merely folded his arms. And uttered one word.

            "Everything."

            The two stared at each other. Until finally, Zero shook his head and dropped his face to the ground.

            "Sigma said the exact same thing once."

            "And you believed him?"

            "He was telling the truth." Zero mumbled, shaking his head. "For all Sigma is, for all the malice he carries, he never lied about my origins. I was a Maverick when I encountered him. I was the Prime Maverick. I was the original carrier of The Maverick Virus. I was the final creation of Doctor Wily."

            "So what?" X said bitterly. "Nothing can change that now. And getting depressed about it won't do anyone any good. And you aren't who you were then. I saw you when you were under the effects of the Virus. You're a completely different person from how you were then."

            "It doesn't change the fact that I KILLED HER." Zero said, shaking his head with a sob.

            "Sigma made you kill her." X consoled him. "Don't you remember?? The Repliforce Incident was all CAUSED by Sigma. Repliforce was just his ploy, his ruse, his cover. Everyone in Repliforce, EVERYONE, had fallen victim to his plot. And we just fell into it. The GDC, The Hunters…we all fell for it, hook line and sinker."

            "Exactly." Zero choked out. "We fell for it. We killed friends, allies…"

            "And yet you still haven't moved on, have you?" X said grimly. "You still don't get it. Grieve. Grieve once. Then move on. Carry the memory with you, treasure it…but don't let it consume you. If you let it get in your way, then you can never move on. You have to move on. You have to."

            "And who told you that?" Zero muttered.

            "You did." X said, a sad smile coming to his face. Zero said nothing for a while after that, so X continued. "Look, I know you missed Iris. And I know that you grieved after The Fourth Uprising. But you have to move on, Zero. Whether you want to believe it or not, this time it's different. That isn't the same Iris you fell in love with. It's an Iris built by Sigma, to follow Sigma. That's all he cares about now. It isn't about some high lofty moralistic goal of his. It's degraded now. All he cares about is destroying us." X drew nearer to Zero, eyes burning. "And until we stop him, once and for all, he'll keep coming. He'll keep coming and more people will die. And unless we always fight our hardest, he'll win. HE WILL KILL US."

            There, X shook Zero by the shoulders. And in some way, Zero slowly tilted his head back up, still looking completely devastated.

            "Zero, you can't die on me. YOU CAN'T DIE."

            "Why not?"

            "BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL I HAVE LEFT!!" X screamed. "Cain is DEAD. Cossack is DEAD. Three of my armor sets, the legacy left to me by my father are GONE. Goddamnit, Zero, YOU ARE ALL I HAVE NOW!!"

            Zero stared blankly at X for a while. The Blue Bomber of 21XX shook his head sadly and stepped back.

            "God…Zero, I can't lose you."

            And then something clicked in Zero. If only for a moment.

            It was time to leave the past behind. X was right. He couldn't change that. Who he had been. But he could change who he was. He could work to alter the present.

            It had always been Sigma. Always…And X was right. He would keep going. Until he was destroyed, wholly and completely, this would never end. And more would suffer.

            Cherish the memory of lost loved ones…and then move on.

            "You haven't lost me." Zero finally uttered. His voice was calmer then, more collected.

            X looked up, his face red from his own tears. Zero walked next to him and shook his head. "X, you're right. I have to move on. And I will."

            "You're all I have left."

            "You're all I have left too." Zero continued, his voice stronger. "Everything's changing…save one." He clasped a hand on X's shoulder. "I'll never leave you. Never."

            X's face grew calmer, and he lifted a hand up and placed it on top of Zero's.

            "Friends?"

            "Always." Zero promised him. And then they smiled. The both of them. There were still tears in their eyes as they hugged. A hug shared between comrades that bled on the battlefield. Who were the best of friends. Who saw each other through thick and thin. Who were supposed to have been enemies, but most definitely were not.

            "We'll get him, Zero. We'll stop Sigma once and for all. Cain's memory won't be tarnished. And the Hunters will continue."

            "And what about Iris?" Zero asked suddenly, pulling away from X.

            The Blue Bomber of 21XX stared for a moment, then shrugged his head carefully.

            "Don't fight her, Zero. I won't either. Maybe, there's a way…a way to snap her out of his trance."

            And for Zero, that was enough for now.

            The both of them would try their hardest. X would have to fight without his armors. And Zero would have to fight, dreading the time when Iris would reappear.

            But they still had to. To stop Sigma.

            To end this senseless series of wars.

            To protect the world.

            Even when the world didn't want to protect them.

            "So just how many things do you think you've built by now?" Willow asked nonchalantly, throwing a ball up into the air and catching it when it came back down.

            Bristol looked up from her latest stack of almost unintelligible scribblings, filled with numbers, formulae and various other things.

            "Pardon?"

            "I asked you a question, Bristol." Willow sighed, catching the ball again and shaking her head. "But never mind. So what's this then?"

            "Remember a while back when I was all excited about that new algorithm? You know, the one that would allow us to finally make warp generators capable of transporting humans safely?"

            "I recall something about that, yes." Willow mused, reaching down beside her for something else.

            "Well, our first test of the human warp generator is ten minutes from now."

            "Why wasn't I told about this earlier?" Willow queried, lifting an eyebrow. Bristol blushed for a moment, then shook her head.

            "I'm sorry…my mind's been a thousand other places."

            "Well, all right." Willow replied. "But you're not the only one that's been busy." Quickly, Willow pulled out the object she'd been rifling around for and hefted it at Bristol.

            The MI9 'Tech caught it easily and examined it with hawkish eyes.

            "This looks like a beam saber cylinder…" She tapped it for a moment, then shook  her head. "But wait, it's a little too wide around for a traditional beam saber…"

            "There's a reason for that." Willow grinned, taking it back and wrapping her firm grip around it. Before Bristol could ask just what made the device so special, Willow had released a long chain of metallic links from it. Bristol drew in a sharp breath…a breath which was exhaled when every last link suddenly gained a spherical green plasma sphere around it.

            "God save the queen…is that…"

            "Och, yea." Willow chuckled a bit, a glimmer of excitement in her eye. "A fully functioning beam whip. I built it meself."

            "Incredible, just incredible…" Bristol exclaimed, her smile growing wider and wider. "You've made a durable series of interconnected links…each with its own personalized containment field…"

            "I avoided a lot of problems doing it that way." Willow said cheerfully. "Only problem is the cost. Since the links are made from TitaniTefloAlloy, this thing's cost in raw materials alone is somewhere around a quarter of a million. Dollars." She added as an afterthought.

            "Still…That's just incredible. Do you plan on taking your invention pub…"

            "No. This little beauty is mine, and mine alone." Willow said suddenly. She looked down at the weapon, then shut it off and retracted the links. "Do ye really think that the world needs another weapon for killing? There's enough beam sabers, daggers, staffs and lances to go around as it is."

            "I suppose you're right." Bristol acquiesced gently. She got up from her seat and motioned to the door. "Well, I suppose we'd best get going. This test isn't going to run without me, and you're invited to see it work."

            "All energy meters running at normal." Tarkin said nervously, looking up at the monitors. "No ungrounded connections detected…we're good to go."

            Bristol looked up from her clipboard with slightly worried eyes to the two warp transport capsules. If this worked, it would be an easy task to design personal warp generators, but for the initial test she wanted the sheer size that the capsules offered. It was an easier target to hit.

            "You'd better not scramble my brain, Bristol." Warned Jowers from inside the North facing capsule. His eyes danced with more than a little anxiety as well. "I don't exactly like the concept of turning into a vegetable." Measuring devices were everywhere on his head, keeping a continuous EKG reading of his brain.

            "Don't worry Jowers, you're in the best of hands." Bristol reassured him with a smile. The enhanced human chuckled a bit, even though his face paled.

            "So why don't I feel any more relaxed?"

            "We already have you on a mild sedative for the tension, Jowers." Bristol giggled. "Any more and you might start doing the full monty."

            "And you wouldn't enjoy that?" Jowers joked nervously. Bristol calmly examined him from head to toe, then shook her head.

            "I can't exactly picture you naked, I'm afraid. So let's just get this test over with." She turned to Tarkin. "Activate the scanners!"

            Tarkin pushed a button, then nodded his head. "Scanners active."

            "Whuzzat mean?" Jowers exclaimed nervously. Bristol turned about, her face calm again.

            "A warp generator's scanners allow it to see just what it's sending. It basically makes a schematic…a blueprint of how you look now. So that way, when you come out on the other side, you're reconstructed according to the original blueprint. It prevents messy things like missing arms or being turned inside out."

            "Sounds easy enough." Jowers mumbled. "So why was warp travel off limits for humans until now?"

            "Their minds." Bristol said gently. "No matter how far warp travel advanced, humans couldn't go through because of the side effects upon their psyche. Dr. Albert William Wily was an avid user of warp travel…and even more frightening, CLOAKING devices, which were even harmful to robots before they were banned." She tapped her forehead. "Wily was certifiably insane for most of the 15 years that he and Mega Man were in the public eye. And most historical scholars claim that a large portion of that insanity came about because he used personalized warp generators."

            "What are you saying, that this warps my mind?!" Jowers nearly screamed. Bristol shook her head.

            "That's the trick, though…my recent discoveries have the potential to up the potential of warp scanners. With increased functionality, they should be able to warp humans without warping their minds…keeping them fully intact, adding nothing and taking nothing away."

            "So WHY AM I HERE?!" Jowers screamed. "I don't wanna go insane, I don't wanna…"

            "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO!!" Bristol screamed back. Her voice was forceful enough that Jowers was stunned into silence, even as Bristol sighed and shook her head. "You're not going to go insane. I know what I'm doing here, I trust in my numbers 110%. So just relax, Jowers. You'll be fine. Besides, you have TARKIN looking out for you!" She grinned, slapping her human colleague on the back. Tarkin winced for a moment, then begrudgingly nodded his head.

            And then a few moments later, the scanning process entered the final stage.

            "Transfer in 3…2…1…" Tarkin counted down.

            Jowers vanished from inside the north-facing capsule…

            And then reappeared in the south-facing capsule. Whole and complete, with not a scratch on him.

            Quickly, Tarkin went up and connected another set of wires to Jower's forehead, getting another set of EGK measurements.

            "What are you doing?" Jowers whispered, deathly afraid. Bristol replied without looking up from the EKG monitors."

            "We're going to compare your brain activity. There's going to be some slight differences because of the stress you're feeling, but if we've done our job right, your mind should be what you would call 'normal.'"

            And then came the agonizing 90 seconds when Bristol compared the EKG readouts. Jowers, Tarkin and Willow all waited anxiously…

            Until Bristol twirled about, her face ecstatic.

            "Readouts are a perfect match. Jowers went through with no mental side effects!!"

            "WE DID IT!!" Tarkin whooped happily, jumping up and down and then grabbing Willow, dancing around the room.

            And then all of them got into the excitement of the moment. Aside from Jowers, who weakly sat up against the wall and took a long drink of a whiskey flask from his pocket.

            Little did Willow and Bristol know that that was one of the last times that they could ever celebrate.

            Wycost let out an involuntary grunt as the hilt of his opponent's beam staff nailed him right in his chin, sending him stumbling back. Quick on the attack, the MI9 operative charged in, staff raised for a slice to sever the Bronx Bomber in half.

            "Oh, no you DON'T!!" Wycost growled, shifting his right arm into a Buster and pointing it at the ground in front of the MI9 agent. And then he fired, not a searing bolt of plasma, but a Narwhal Striker round that blitzed down and exploded, hurling shrapnel and a concussion wave outwards. Wycost lifted his other arm partially to defend against the explosion, but his dropped goggles did most of that already. The MI9 operative wasn't as lucky…while he avoided the main blast as he was hurled back, and thus lived, the shrapnel seared along and sliced a wicked gash on the back of his hand, causing the warrior to grimace enough that he lost control of his beam staff and it fell to the ground with a clattering motion. Before the MI9 agent could get back to his feet, Wycost had incinerated the wicked cutter with a semi-charged Buster shot.

            "I'd like to see you try anything fancy now, buddy brown." Wycost growled, letting his Buster shift back away into a hand. And then he realized just how feral these MI9 twips were…because even without his weapon, the enhanced human charged towards him, screaming cries of hatred. Wycost grunted as they locked in a pure fistfight, trying to shake off the jarring blow to the side of his face.

            Damnit, these guys are like pitbulls…

            Doan had his own problems to worry about. He'd become a primary target for the two other men, who now circled him like sharks waiting to strike. Warily, Doan held his beam lance closer and let his senses take over. He could trust them, Doan knew. Ever since he'd been constructed, he'd relied on his senses. Even the ones that defied explanation. And because of that, he'd survived. Through his early days as The Ghost Wind, and after that…when he was a Maverick Hunter.

            And then both charged at him. Doan's eyes narrowed, and he quickly leapt up into the air, activating his Saber Flare once more. The MI9 operative in front of him was stunned to see Doan's weapon suddenly bloom in length…and more stunned to see it coming down towards him. Still, he hissed in anger and blocked it with his beam staff.

            The plasma blades connected…but the force of Doan's strike was so intense that it dragged down the side of the weapon until it met the hilt of the staff, finally finding a place to cut at. The metal of the beam staff's handle.

            The MI9 operative had no time to respond. Upon losing stabilization of his staff's EM field, the errant plasma backvented, taking the entire assembly…and his hand…with it. Doan turned about, rearing his other hand to bear and quickly morphing it into a Buster.

            The MI9 operative charging behind him received a full supershot in the middle of his chest. Doan narrowed his eyes when he saw it flare angrily against a previously invisible EM shield…it would take more power to stop these guys. Luckily, that's what he had. Time, though…

            The first MI9 operative looked at the cauterized stump of what had once been his hand in dismay, just standing there before he started to whimper. He collapsed to his knees and slumped over, beginning to shake and tremble from the shock of it. Doan shook his head in disgust.

            "Weakling." And then the second one came charging back for more.

            Horn too was stumbling to stay alive in the conflict, what with one of the female MI9 agents staring him straight down with burning vengeance.

            "Julius Kinnian Horn." She taunted, standing fifteen feet away from him on an upraised section of roof. "You hold one of the greatest blasphemies of all…Giving yourself a full HUMAN name…"

            "Excuse me if I have a friggin' personality!!" Horn shouted back, firing off a loose blast of energy designed to overload the conscious motor controls of its victim. The female MI9 agent merely sidestepped, holding her beam staff closer still.

            "You reploids don't deserve names. You would kill this planet…kill us…You MONSTERS!!"

            She charged at Horn, decking him to the roof in a single punch. Dazed, Horn could do little as she sliced his Buster…and the lower part of his arm…clean off. He screamed. Screamed long and loud from the injury. Pain flooded his mind, threatened to send him over the edge into inky blackness. And somehow he held on, even as the black beam staff's point descended down and hovered above his forehead, with the burning eyes of his murderer boring down on him.

            "The only thing you deserve is to DIE."

            "YOU FIRST!!" Came a powerful shout. The female operative turned her head about…a fraction of a second too late. A screaming Allegro was right on top of her, holding his beam staff with his only remaining hand, only one blade lit so it acted more as a beam saber. In one smooth motion he brought it horizontally across her neck, feeling the strain as the EM shield around her flared in response to stop the blow. But he didn't stop. He pushed through it, rendered the shield useless…and severed her head off in one clean sweep.

            The head of Horn's murderer toppled down the side of his roof like a hailstone…and the rest of her body collapsed soon after, draining blood like a fountain.

            Allegro blinked a few times at the sight, then paled even more and fell backwards. His beam staff shut off, and he turned to Horn, who now was straining to get up with only one hand left.

            "I…Don't feel so good…" Allegro mumbled weakly, before his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed into stasis.

            Horn just about did the same thing. Only he bothered staying conscious. For now.

            And then there was Willow. The one person in the group that MI9 had come for in the first place. Her hands were full with a female MI9 operative that had more than a few bursts of speed to her. Every strike of the beam staff was a fierce one, threatening to end her life in a blink. And yet it never came close enough.

            "MI9 has warped itself." Willow growled, pulling her beam whip back for a strike. With her other arm, she tried to fire off a plasmic explosive, and only then realized that she hadn't reloaded her arm gauntlets with the necessary ammunition since her run-in with Geoffrey and Tim. She cursed for a moment as the MI9 operative drew nearer, then brought her main weapon to bear. The beam whip snapped forward and missed the operative that leapt away, but sliced clean through a nearby palm tree and made the Treeborg organism crash to the ground. "I remember when you first brought us into the world. And now look at what you've become…Just LOOK."

            "You posed a danger to us!" The MI9 agent hissed. "You, and every other reploid on Earth is a danger to humanity! Even now, you prove us right by fighting us!"

            "I'm fighting for my LIFE, you whore!" Willow hissed back. "There's a crucial difference between needless destruction and SAVING YOURSELF. Would you act any differently, in my shoes?!"

            "You're reploid, Willow." The female MI9 operative snapped, charging forward with her staff out in front of her. "Your opinions, your beliefs, your goals mean NOTHING."

            Something changed in Willow's eyes then. A blink beyond fear. Beyond even outrage. That blink brought stony distaste…one that had only scorn and focused bitterness.

            Willow used two short bursts from her variable air dash thrusters and met the operative in midair. Her free hand reached about and clutched at three feet from the opposing end of the chain…a movement which should have caused her hand to be sheared off by the searing plasma orbs that gave the beam whip its bite, yet did not come, as the individual plasma fields closest to where her hand approached shut down. In yet another part of the beam whip's design, it responded to the presence of her body, shutting down to allow her full movement and maneuverability with the weapon without allowing it to cause harm to her.

            With her beam whip now forming a loop in her capable hands, she rotated about in the air, contorting her body so that she flipped over the MI9 operative before the beam staff could strike. And then she dropped the loop, ensnaring both the warrior and her beam staff in a powerful snare.

            Grunting in surprise, the MI9 operative could do little more than plummet to the ground, the only thing keeping her alive a thin EM shield that glowed furiously by the presence of Willow's beam whip lying right next to the protective barrier.

            Willow landed as well, holding her grip tight and then doing a backflip to further shorten the noose. And then and only then did she bother to take a breath.

            Doan's final opponent let out a single gasp of dismay as his chest was run clean through by the fiery end of The Ghost Wind's beam lance. He coughed up blood for a moment, then fell to his knees, still dumbly staring at the hot plasma jammed through his EM shield, through the front of his chest…

            Doan let the blade fade out, and the MI9 operative fell to the ground, eyes dull and cold as the rest of him was. He shook his weary head and turned back to face Wycost's own fight. Grimly, he noted Wycost was holding back…still so intent on staying true to his new life goal that he put his own life at risk by not fighting at 100 percent. Doan clucked his tongue once, lifted his right arm, and fired.

            Wycost's vision was beginning to go blurry from all the successful punches his opponent had landed…and it could definitely go either way. What bogged him down the most was the realization that this opponent was human. It wasn't reploid…destroying this human would instantly characterize him as Maverick.

            And then all his problems were solved as a plasma supershot came from behind, enveloping the human in a brief flash of fire and a scream of dismay before the warrior was atomized. Wycost stared dumbly at the space in front of him…thinking for a moment that Willow had once more done the unthinkable. But it was Doan who walked towards him, beam lance tucked away and his Buster still trailing ozone.

            "You killed him…" Wycost whispered in shock. He looked up to Doan, eyes hollow. "You killed a human."

            "I killed someone who would cause harm to me, and to others." Doan corrected his friend calmly. "Trust me, it's happened before. And though I don't like the thought of performing an act that's so commonly chalked up to Mavericks…I will do it."

            "I…" Wycost began, shaking his head in dismay. "I don't understand…"

            "What's worse than a Maverick, Wycost?" Doan asked him suddenly, stopping the Bronx Bomber before his sentence could be finished. And there Wycost snapped alert, staring at his old friend for a moment.

            It was the question that had done it. A question that Isaiah had given him…and a question that continued to haunt him, always bringing itself back into the spotlight by some means or another. Wycost breathed deep, shutting his eyes for a moment.

            "There may come a time when I will have to do the same thing…" He finally uttered. Doan harrumphed.

            There will come a time when you need to do the RIGHT thing. And I hope both for your sake and for Bristol's, you are able to understand what is right. Even if the line is so blurred that you can't see it…and can only FEEL IT." Doan held out a hand for Wycost. "Now come on. As fierce as that battle was, it's over with now. Willow has the last one tied up." Wycost nodded and followed his friend, not failing to notice the whimpering, shivering human figure lying on the ground in a fetal position, arms drawn to his chest.

            "What's wrong with him?"

            "He's missing a hand." Doan replied calmly.

            "Oh."

Willow and her MI9 prisoner were still staring at each other by the time Wycost and Doan got next to her. "Why?" Willow said icily, pulling the reins tighter on the thing threatening to end the life of her opponent. The MI9 agent stumbled forth a bit, then glared back up, bright blue eyes shining.

            "Why what, reploid?"

            "Why are you doing this?" Willow growled. "Why were you so intent on killing all of us in MI9? WHY?!"

            "You were a danger. You knew too much, you all were in too deep…And all reploids are a danger. The Final Weapon taught us that."

            "Final Weapon?" Doan muttered, his voice leaking inflection for a change. He folded his arms and turned to Willow. "The Final Weapon was the end of The Fourth Uprising. What's that got to do with this so-called MI9?"

            "You all must die." The MI9 agent hissed, eyes now burning through them all. Disgust…disgust that did nothing to hide the abject hatred spawned from that voice. It made Wycost's blood cold. He didn't know humans could be this dark…Violent, yes. And racist, most definitely. But what came from the MI9 operative, what had come from them all was more than that.

            "You reploids are a blight on the world, a swarm of locusts that must be REMOVED." The MI9 agent hissed. "And we have Bristol now. Now, everything will come together…"

            It was then that Willow's eyes flared, that she snapped her beam whip tight.

            The EM shield around the MI9 operative offered little resistance, its power already drained from the continuous proximity of Willow's primary weapon in the first place. With the ease of breathing, Willow sliced the female operative in two, turning about as the severed body collapsed to the ground, staining the sand and grass red.

            Calmly, she shut the power down and let the TitaniTefloAlloy links of the beam whip snake their way back inside the weapon's hilt.

            "God." She finally muttered, shaking her head and putting a hand to it. "Goddamn them all…Goddamn them…"

            "Willow." Wycost said shortly. The red haired reploid turned her gaze over and looked at him.

            "Yes, Wycost?"

            "You know what I'm going to ask." Wycost said softly. Willow's green eyes were sadder then.

            "I'm afraid I do, laddie. But until I make sure that there won't be more coming our way for a while, we don't have the time to play question and answer."

            "Ask Horn about the anti-warp generator." Wycost muttered quietly, picking up on her reasoning. He didn't feel any more inclined to repeating this fight for a while.

            "Where is he?" Willow asked back. Doan looked about, then calmly pointed above. To the roof, and the figures lying there.

            Ten minutes later, a massive electromagnetic bubble sat around Horn's private island for a two mile radius, preventing warp transport from getting in. The only surviving MI9 operative sat with his ankles shackled together and his surviving hand and wrist tied to the dining room table leg. He wasn't going anywhere, especially seeing as he was knocked out by a hefty dose of general anesthetic.

            Willow, Doan, Allegro, Horn, and Wycost sat in the living room. Allegro barely awake, and Horn no better off as the two let the hovering auto-repair drones work on giving them new hands. They lay listless in a pair of La-Z-Boys, their extraneous functions cut off so the recovery time might be faster. As it was, they could do no more than listen, see, smell, taste, and talk. In other words, the primary senses and the power of speech.

            Willow had gone digging through Horn's refrigerator after changing out of battle regalia into a blouse and ankle level skirt, and had wasted little time in discovering the many varieties of alcohol he kept on hand. Her left hand had a bottle of whiskey, and her right had a mixed tropical drink. The tropical one she nursed, the whiskey she swigged.

            "I suppose every story comes with a beginning, a middle, and an end." Willow murmured dolefully. She looked up, unfazed by the alcohol to her disappointment, which was her intent for having so much. To dull her senses in the first place, and push back the day's pain. "So, where would you like to start then?"

            "Beginning's fine." Wycost offered, sipping a shot of high powered expresso he'd brewed, trying his best not to spill any on his leather bomber jacket. Doan, the only non-injured member on the island that hadn't changed into street clothes, bided his time beside Wycost on the couch, head tilted back and eyes seemingly zoned on the ceiling. Wycost knew better…Doan was paying full attention to the conversation.

            "Traditionalists…" Willow grumbled, taking another hefty swig of the whiskey. "Well, all right. Name the most horrendous decade of 20XX."

            "2040, without question." Wycost murmured back. "The Wars of 2040 nearly resulted in humanity falling to extinction because of the devastation they'd caused upon the planet."

            "Good." Willow chirped, twirling the paper umbrella in her tropical drink. Wycost noticed for the first time that she'd bothered to use a coaster on the coffee table. While Doan and Wycost sat on the couch, Willow merely sat cross legged on the carpeted floor. "Now, what caused the negative effects of this fantastically stupid conflict to be negated, so that humanity might continue on its merry, bastard way?"

            "The Second Rainbow." Doan offered, still refusing to look down from the ceiling. Willow bothered to offer a slight smirk.

            "Your friend's even less talkative than you are, Wycost."

            "He's like that. But is his answer right?"

            "Aye." Willow said laconically, chugging another mouthful of whiskey. She set the almost empty bottle on the floor beside her leg and nodded. "The Second Rainbow. A group of scientists from every nationality, religion and ethnicity. Brought together for the purpose of survival alone. Differences and vendettas and international tensions were all shoved aside, all for the drastic need of survival. And somehow, they succeeded. The world lived. And then the world moved into a new age."

            "The age of robots…" Wycost murmured, eyes narrowing from behind his glasses. "Wily and Light were in the Second Rainbow, I remember that. And…"

            "And it was their advances in the field of robotics that led to the split of the Second Rainbow back in 2067. The news that they were building a next generation robot, close to human…Protoman…" Willow finished calmly. She leaned forward, staring into Wycost's eyes. "But it didn't end there, no…When the Second Rainbow fell apart, its members had divided into two groups. The traditionalists…and the technologists."

            She leaned back, her point made.

            "And now we come to the true point of this history lesson. Where did MI9 come about?" She reached to the coffee table and pulled up the tropical drink in her slender, pale fingers. "MI9 was spawned from the Second Rainbow. The name of the organization, MI9 is meant to mislead if it ever was leaked. There is no affiliation to Britain or any of its government agencies. For all purposes, MI9 comes from one thing…the traditionalist faction of the dispersed Second Rainbow."

            She downed the mixed drink in one easy gulp and set the glass back onto its coaster, the ruthlessness she displayed in combat hidden behind the pleasant and quiet demeanor she demonstrated now.

            "MI9 got its start in 2069, lads." She continued thoughtfully. "At the time, its beliefs were similar to another anti-technology group of the time, the HSL. Human Supremacy League. Their belief was technology was what had caused humanity to nearly destroy the world. That to keep it around was a danger." She snorted. "Fools."

            "But 2070 was when the First Robot Rebellion occurred." Wycost motioned. "And the HSL…it was disbanded after that."

            "Exactly." Willow answered back. There was a sense of irony on her lips then. "I remember reading some archived files back in my early days at MI9…for a time, the secretive and newly formed MI9 had thought of coming forth and exposing themselves to the HSL, of joining forces with them. But then Doctor Light and Doctor Wily held that press conference and introduced the world to the Robot Masters…and Rock and Roll."

            "Is that what stopped them?" Wycost asked.

            "MI9 wasn't stopped. It was frightened. And so it decided, wisely on their part, to stand back and see what would come about. Thus, when the First Robot Rebellion occurred and the HSL was disbanded, MI9 was left unknown to the world and continued on its merry way."

            "But if MI9 was formed out of traditionalists…why didn't they take action against the robots?"

            "Because that was a sticky point." Willow uttered darkly. "It was hard to decide policy. Robots weren't the true enemy in the Robot Rebellions…it was the people that used them. Wily. It was Wily that was the hands moving the strings. And to make matters even more confusing for them, it was a ROBOT…Mega Man…that stopped his madness time and time again." She shook her head and laughed. "Leave it to our ancestor…A robot fighting robots to keep humanity safe. That's why MI9 didn't act. Instead, they opted merely to sit and wait. To grow stronger. In due time, they enlisted new members secretly, discreetly. And they placed certain members of their organization in high ranking governmental positions around the world." She lifted a finger and nodded. "That still exists to this day. Remember Emilius Cristoph?"

            "Served on the GDC Cornus Council during the Second Uprising, brought the initial charges against all reploids in 2124, tried to cause the limiting of forces in the Maverick Hunters earlier this year…" Wycost rattled off.

            "One and the same." Willow finished. "He was MI9."

            "Well, terrific." Doan muttered. "Are you saying the GDC is corrupt?"

            "Not as much as you would believe. Cristoph was the only power player MI9 had." She sighed and reached for the nearly empty whiskey bottle. "So then the years pass. Robot Rebellions continue on, and Mega Man is always there to stop them. MI9 is content to sit and wait, growing stronger every day." She swigged the final bit, then tossed the bottle behind her, ignoring the dull thump as the glass bottle hit carpet. "And then comes the time when Mega Man, when Wily, when Light and all the other influential people in the glorious age of robots fade from memory. The world continued on, believing them to be gone, believing it all to be over." Willow laughed a bit at that. "You wouldn't believe the conflict in MI9 then. With no Wily, no Light, no Robot Rebellions…no great technological movement left to worry about, they pondered breaking apart. They wondered if MI9 was even needed then." Her face grew serious. "But then, 2117 came about. November and December of 2117. And then MI9 suddenly realized that it wasn't quite time yet to hang up the ropes."

            "When Doctor Cain announced to the world that he'd discovered Mega Man X…and that he'd built Cancer, the very first reploid." Doan offered blithely.

            "You fellows know your history." Willow chirped to them. Wycost shrugged.

            "It's interesting enough to keep track of."

            "So then, MI9 had a reason to go on. Because now, there was an even greater threat. A new breed of robots…robots designed to go beyond the Three Laws, to act, to feel, to BE human. Reploids."

            She waved her hand through the air.

            "MI9 first started making reploids in 2125, after the World Trial failed. After Doctor Doppler revealed that what caused Maverickism was The Maverick Virus."

            "They considered it safe to use reploids then?" Wycost asked.

            "Saf-ER." Willow corrected Wycost. "Bristol and I were born then. And there were few of us to start with."

            "So what did you do?"

            "Research and development." Willow said with a quiet twinkle in her eye. "It was our sworn duty to sit in empty rooms and think of new and brilliant ideas. And to be completely honest, it was BRISTOL that was the true brains. In our stead at MI9, she constructed many wondrous things for them. Bio-implants were her first breakthrough…using them, humans could gain physical and mental abilities that allowed them to compete with reploids."

            "Like those MI9 operatives outside?" Doan snorted. "You telling me they had these 'bio-implants'??"

            "They did." Willow said, her face darkening. "They also had warp transport generators…like this one." She held a squarish device out from her skirt pocket. "This one was taken off our friend sleeping in the next room. It's a traditional warp generator. Scanning functions, hop ability, links up to GPS satellites…But this has one very important upgrade that Bristol invented." Willow's face went stern then. "An algorithm added to the pattern buffers that made warp transport safe for human travel…without the negative, mind warping side effects."

            "No WONDER." Wycost muttered darkly. "But if you were there…how did you end up here? And how did Bristol get to New Denver earlier this year, where Bastion found her?"

            "Aah, that's where this gets dark and interesting, lads." Willow said, wistfully looking at her empty drink glass. She sighed in defeat and ran a hand through her wild red hair. "Now then, my latest opponent mentioned in passing Repliforce's Final Weapon, remember?"

            "Hai." Doan muttered, looking for any excuse to keep the conversation fresh, even if it meant switching to Japanese instead of English.

            "The official position of Repliforce was that it was NOT Maverick. That they were not infected with the Maverick Virus. That they were acting of their own accord, for their own reasons."

            "As if the GDC believed that…" Wycost murmured.

            "You Maverick Hunters weren't exactly patron saints in that conflict, either." Willow noted drily. Wycost snorted in disgust.

            "Don't try placing blame on me and Doan. I was still working MSWAT in New York then, and Doan…"

            "I was busy." Doan muttered. Willow shut her eyes and exhaled a long breath.

            "Whatever. In any case, when the Final Weapon, Repliforce's spaceborne pride and joy turned its main weapon down at Earth, that was the trigger. After that point, whatever mistrust and animosity that our human lads held towards us was multiplied." Willow leaned back onto the floor and stared at the ceiling, finally beginning to feel the mild effects of her bottle of whiskey and the mixed drink. "In reflection, I've looked back and done some thinking. And I realized what caused it. Repliforce wasn't Maverick. That much they'd made clear…and yet, even without the Virus flowing through them, they still were a THREAT. The Final Weapon was still pointed at Earth…they still planned on causing damage. And they weren't MAVERICK."

            Her green eyes shone bitterly. "So that was it then. After 2129, It just became inevitable. And somehow, somewhere, someone high up must have decided that the risks were too great to keep us around. If Repliforce could do such a grievous action…Well, imagine what us MI9 reploids would be capable of."

            "So what happened?"

            "Extinction, that's what." Willow spat out. "They moved slowly at first. Some members of our teams just stopped coming to work anymore. We thought nothing of it for a while…but then it was too much. Suspicions ran high. And then, early in 2131, I saw Fannir being torn apart…and they jammed their beam staffs through his skull…" Willow shook her head, trying to get rid of the powerful memory. "Then I knew. Then I knew just how serious they were on seeing us all dead."

            "So you escaped?" Wycost egged.

            "I escaped with Bristol." Willow corrected, sitting back up. She looked at Wycost. "That's why I know so much about her. I was with her since we were born into this world." Her gaze shifted away from Wycost, staring off vacantly somewhere into the distance. "We escaped MI9. Maybe others made it, maybe they didn't…but we did, at least. Despite everything else falling apart around us, Bristol and I made it. After that, it was just a matter of running." She got up and walked over to a nearby chair and finally sat down like the rest of the intrepid group sitting in the room. "No matter where we went, it seemed as though MI9 always had a team after us. Bristol and I were always awake, always moving…it was draining on the spirit and body both, to know that there was so much hatred burning in their spirits to see us that dead. Of course, with 50 two man teams doing all the tracking, that was a simple enough objective. Running became the task of the day."

            "We ran and we ran and we ran…We fought off The Trembling time and time again, and we always escaped, yet were always found…And then we reached New Denver. That's where you discovered Bristol…that's where this tragic tale of the past blends in with the present."

            "Just what happened?" Wycost asked, lifting his glasses up so that Willow could finally see the concern on his face.

            For once, Willow didn't try to hide her exhaustion, the pain in her eyes, the wear on her soul.

            "What happened?" She mumbled quietly. "What happened?" She tilted her head back and seemed to chuckle to herself bitterly. "Simple. The world happened."

            Willow was the first one to wake up. She usually was, most of the time. Bristol had a purer heart, a heart that could be broken or torn apart. Willow's could only be hardened.

            The alleyway they sat in was relatively empty. Aside from a few other reploids and humans who qualified as official slum dwellers, cardboard boxes and newspaper their warmth against the chill of the Spring night.

            Quickly, Willow checked her weapons. Plasmic explosive launchers were all fully loaded…two more rounds hanging on her belt in reserve. Her beam whip was fully charged as well, lying by the plasmic rounds.

            Her internal chronometer informed her that they'd been running from MI9 for around two weeks now. She didn't bother checking the exact date…just a round figure was all she needed. Any more than that, and she might get depressed.

            She got to her feet, ignored the weariness and warnings her body screamed at her. She didn't have the time for this. Neither did Bristol.

            "Wake up, lass." Willow murmured, shaking her comrade's shoulders.

            Bristol made a gentle moan of disapproval, but her eyes eventually fluttered back open.

            "What?" She whispered sadly. Willow's face was as ashen as the one that mirrored it.

            "Time to get going."

            Slowly, Bristol got to her feet and blinked a few times, not even bothering to try and smooth out her blond hair. She knew it was a mess…and there was little she could do for it now.

            "Any sign of the Enhanceds?" Bristol asked perfunctorily. Willow shook her head.

            "Not yet."

            "That's a good thing." Bristol said, reaching down to her wrist and the device clinging to it. She examined its tiny LCD display for a moment. "My Anti-Trembler needs another three hours before it's back at full strength. They've been hitting us hard lately."

            "My own's a little low on stopping power as well." Willow muttered. "Now if I remember correctly, we're some fifteen miles away from New Denver."

            "You think if we get there, we stand a chance of blending in?"

            "For a few days, at least." Willow murmured. She looked up to the dismal gray skies above, her green eyes saddened by the sight. "MI9 is looking for us. And they'll have a tougher time of it in New Denver. The place is expansive, packed together…and no matter how much of a risk we represent, they're not about to go let field agents be exposed to the general public."

            The both of them were bedraggled. The weeks had been hard. And they kept moving. Knowing if they stayed in one spot too long, that they would be discovered. And most likely destroyed.

            Thirty minutes later, they were in the bus terminal. Buying tickets for a trip to New Denver. Normally, warp transport would have done it. But by now, their actions in this medium sized 'burg had been noticed. MI9 would have a warp trace hovering over them…warping would have let MI9 know exactly where they were headed.

            While Bristol was at the ticket counter, her hair now somewhat more presentable as she haggled down the price for a twin rider discount, Willow stood guard. With a long flowing blue cape behind her attached to shoulder lapels drawn completely around her body, and a similar blue hood hiding her face, she looked no more noticeable than any other refugee. And refugees were a common sight anymore, with the Maverick's actions causing countless cities to be razed, and hundreds left to wander the Earth, with virtually no one to care for them.

            Her green eyes flitted around the waiting lounge, not looking for a kind of outfit or a hairstyle, or even a skin tone. Those identifiers would do her little good. What would tip Willow off was the glint in their eyes.

            That glint, a sharpness of acuity and intuitiveness, came from the bio-implants in their eyeballs. And of course, the malice that they all seemed to have now.

            "Come on, don't show up, don't show up, don't…" Willow murmured. But she drew in a quick breath and silently cursed…

            Because two figures walked inside the bus terminal, dressed in civilian clothes, but no less ruthless or deadly. And Willow knew the one walking in front. Jowers.

            Moving as discreetly as she could, Willow turned about and headed to the counter, where Bristol was already turning.

            Willow caught her by the arm and forced her to start walking in another direction.

            "Christ, I wish we'd gotten you a hat…"

            "They're here?" Bristol said sharply, but quietly enough that nobody around them could eavesdrop.

            "Aye." Willow murmured. She looked up to the ceiling, and the reflective angled mirrors hanging from the ceiling. She could still see Jowers and his new cohort staring around, searching for them. "They're here, all right. So let's get moving."

            They moved outside the building through another exit and moved to the buses. Willow's eyes flared from underneath her hood, and she forced Bristol onto their bus in one fluid motion.

            Bristol stumbled on the step and almost let out a cry, but the seriousness of their sutation stopped her. Even then, when they sat down, Bristol glared at Willow.

            "Just what was that fo…"

            Willow silenced Bristol with a palm in front of her face, then motioned for the ex-R&D genius to drop her head.

            Outside, Geoffrey and Tim were walking about with their hands jammed into the pockets of their blue jeans. They stared up into the windows of the parked buses, the tinted shading made useless by their enhanced vision. They stood and stared at the bus Willow and Bristol were on for a few hard moments…then finally walked on to another one, their interest seemingly sated.

            Willow visibly relaxed in her seat.

            "God, they're everywhere."

            "What can we do?" Bristol whispered frantically. Willow's eyes dimmed.

            "Nothing. There's nothing we can do." She leaned back in the cushioned bus seat and shook her head. "They're prowling now. If we get out of this bus, they find us. If we warp out, they trace us. The only winning move now…is not to play."

            "Isn't that a quote from an old movie?"

            "Early 1980's. Matthew Broderick. Wargames." Willow affirmed. She shut her eyes. "Right now, all we can do is lean back and see how this plays out. We've come this far without being spotted, so the odds are that they're doing little more than checking all possible routes of escape."

            "Think they'll leave?"

            "They might. Or they might not." Willow answered vacantly. "It all depends on how special they feel like being. And even then…just how much do you think they could get away with on a bus? A bus full of humans and fellow reploids, no less?"

            Bristol looked about. Scattered in various sections were the scattered masses. Crying babies and young, frazzled mothers. Elderly couples and the occasional rugged looking individual. Public represented at its best.

            And Willow was right, of course. They could do nothing now.

            And then the wait was over. The bus began to move…

            Then stopped, and descended back to the ground for a moment. Another passenger climbed on.

            Willow's eyes darkened from the back of the bus, dark enough already by the lack of sun as night crept to its full power. MI9 had indeed decided to cover all angles. For the figure that climbed on the bus was one Randy Jowers…one of the first enhanced humans ever made by Bristol's brilliance.

            He looked respectable enough, and even apologized to the driver for making him stop. Then he took a seat up front and sat down, staring vacantly ahead as the bus lifted off the ground and let its thrusters take over, shooting it across the highways towards New Denver, Colorado.

            An uneasy silence filled the bus then. Only Willow and Bristol had taken up position in the rear of the bus. All others lay in the front or the middle. It was almost a dead giveaway, if Jowers were to bother looking.

            But of course, Jowers had a way to do this, a way that wouldn't raise suspicion. Three minutes into the trip, he got up and headed towards the back of the bus, seemingly on a trip to the lavatory kept in the rear.

            Willow had to kick herself upon realizing what he was doing. As he passed every row on his way, he had his eyes take brief, fleeting glances down at the passengers. Too fast for a human to notice…but all too apparent to Willow and even Bristol as they watched him draw nearer and nearer.

            And then he got to them. He had only to look down once before his face darkened, and the disheartened duo realized that they'd been discovered. But he kept moving, to the back of the bus and into the restroom. And there was where he shut the door and locked it.

            "Well, I guess the jig's up, lass." Willow grumbled quietly. "Jowers is onto us."

            "So now what do we do?"

            "By now, he's alerting the other members of MI9 to our location. Rest assured that when we get off, they'll have a force ready to deal with us. I'm afraid that walking twat's left us only one option."

            "Which is?"

            "NOW we warp." Willow affirmed. She looked outside the window. "I just hope we're far enough out that their scanners won't pick us up. Otherwise, our little vacation will be shorter than we'd like."

            Bristol nodded sadly and moved away from her comrade. In unison, the two powered up their warp generators, set their destination to New Denver, and began the sequence.

            There was the hiss of a warp transport, and then they were gone. Some of the people farther up in the bus turned about, surprised by the noise. Of course, when they saw nobody there, they shrugged it off…a trick of the mind, no doubt.

            But inside the bus's tiny lavatory, Jowers grinned maliciously from ear to ear as he stared down at his datapadd, blinking as he watched the warp signals of Willow and Bristol shoot off.

            "We've got you now, reploids…"

            "Sigma!!"

            The Maverick King blinked his eyes a few times, wondering who would be foolish enough to wake him up when he was supposed to be sleeping. Then he shut them again and turned back to warm, wonderful thoughts of Iris. Sweet, dear, naïve, Iris…

            "SIGMA!" Came the voice, louder this time. The room's lights came on. And Sigma knew who was doing the talking.

            Kazok.

            Slowly, Sigma lumbered to his feet from his stasis capsule, bringing himself to his full height before opening his eyes. Kazok stood below him, easily dwarfed by Sigma's enormous size. And yet that didn't matter to the Maverick General, Sigma noticed. There was a fury in his eyes that burned all too brightly.

            "What can I do for you now, Kazok?" Sigma muttered. "Or were you just coming in here to inflame my anger again?"

            "No, I have got a definite beef this time around." Kazok muttered. "I'm getting sick and tired of all this piecemeal crap."

            "Oh, are you referring to my dealings with Zero?" Sigma answered back calmly.

            "You let him live." Kazok muttered angrily. "Me and the rest of my squad almost got KILLED out there against the hordes of Maverick Hunters, and you and Iris sat pretty inside that decrepit old building, waiting for one…JUST ONE…" Kazok shook his head of short black hair back and forth disgustedly. "Dolph almost died yesterday, damn it!"

            "I saw the report." Sigma retorted. "He let Zero get in close enough to slice his hands off. I would have thought the fool would have identified the shortcomings of his plasmic gauntlets by now…"

            "You MONSTER!" Kazok snapped, bringing his gravicrystals to life and lifting himself up to stare at Sigma with even eyes. "Don't you even CARE if your people die or not?"

            "This battle has gone on for more than a decade, Kazok." Sigma said evenly. "Individual soldiers no longer concern me. They are doomed to pass on, to be lost like all others before them. There might even come a day when I will vanish for all time. Those are the facts." Sigma crossed his arms and looked down at Kazok. "You are one such soldier, Kazok. Our fight with the Maverick Hunters is destined to happen, time and time again until one side or the other lies completely annihilated. And until that day, the battle continues."

            "You sick bastard, you're insane if you think I'm going to just hang around until you force us to die…" Kazok began, but suddenly felt himself being choked.

            Felt his body turn against him, drop him to the ground as convulsions ran through him.

            Sigma laughed darkly then, shaking his head.

            "You fool. You just don't get it, do you…you have lost all say in your fate. For all purposes, your life is mine."

            "How…" Kazok grunted, hardly believing that such powerful resistance had snapped within him.

            "As long as I am near, you cannot break free. You cannot." Sigma said fiercely, pulling Kazok back up to his feet. "I know the seeds of rebellion have been planted in your brain. I cannot help that…it will happen. But the Maverick Virus beats in you, Kazok. It beats in you, and as long as I am alive, your life is mine." Sigma threw Kazok to the ground and shook his head bitterly. "And now you know, Kazok. Now you know why you are Maverick."

            Something clicked in the back of Kazok's mind then…thoughts and memories and feelings not held since he'd awoken to stare back at Sigma.

            "I was…" Kazok began, barely believing the horrific truth.

            "You were." Sigma confirmed, a dark chuckle beginning. "You were free. You were just a normal reploid. In the employ of URFAWP."

            "And then…"

            "And then, I claimed you." Sigma announced powerfully. "You became a part of my Maverick regime, a sleeping soldier just biding his time until I deemed fit for you to awaken."

            Tears sprang to Kazok's eyes. Angry, disbelieving tears. He slammed his fist into the ground, shaking his head.

            "Then all of us…we were all URFAWP…You took us all, you ruined our lives…"

            "I would hardly call what you had before a 'life', Kazok." Sigma growled. "But yes. Now you fully understand why this continues."

            "This isn't about some great moralistic goal with you anymore…" Kazok shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly. "This is just all a big fight between you and X and Zero…Just a stupid vendetta you can't get rid of!!"

            Sigma sneered at that.

            "My dear Kazok…vendettas are all I have left."

            Sigma stood up and left, chuckling darkly. And still Kazok had no power to resist him. No power whatsoever.

            He was Maverick. And Sigma was right. Nothing could change that now. It didn't matter he'd been pure once, it didn't matter he'd been enslaved against his will and he now fought for a doomed regime…

            Nothing mattered. Nothing.

            They had been tracked. That fact became all too clear the moment that Willow and Bristol appeared in New Denver…only to find two fully dangerous Enhanceds already staring them down. Their Berserker Beacons had been active and blaring, and only the two reploid's quick activation of the Anti-Tremblers prevented the MI9 operatives from making Willow and Bristol into scrap.

            But something had interrupted them then…As Willow and Bristol ran, and the two MI9 agents Geoffrey and Tim had chased after them, screaming and whooping all sorts of noise, something stopped the rapid pursuit in the blink of an eye. That was a bombshell explosion.

            Incredulous, all four turned about, letting their eyes wander for any sign of where the blast had come from. And then they found it. Troops on the ground, hordes of hovertanks…None of it good. And all of it screamed one word…

            "MAVERICKS?!" Geoffrey snorted in horror. Tim too, looked unmistakably ashen. Willow and Bristol weren't exactly ecstatic about it, either.

            "God, not Mavericks…anyone but them…" Bristol whimpered, growing weak in her knees. Willow bit her lip and pulled Bristol by her arm.

            "Come on!!" The two took off running, startling the MI9 agents back from their stupor.

            "Oh no you don't!!" Tim growled, beginning to chase after them. Geoffrey jumped like a gazelle and pinned his partner to the ground, just as a shell whizzed overhead and exploded where Tim would have been…

            "Now is a good time for us to RUN." Geoffrey growled to Tim, pulling his partner back up. "We can't handle an entire onslaught of Mavericks, you know that!"

            "What, and just let them get away?!" Tim snapped angrily. Geoffrey shook his head.

            "You don't get it, do you…If we stay, we're dead. But right now, they're dead or worse." Geoffrey's face was grim. "They're walking right into Maverick territory, partner. And no matter how good they are, they're gonna end up slagged." Geoffrey tucked his beam staff away and smirked. "Ironic. Our problem is going to be solved by a much larger one."

            "And the larger one?" Tim growled. "What about the world full of reploids?"

            "You haven't been reading your memos." Geoffrey chided. "Don't worry, there's stuff in the works."

            Another explosion and the engine roar of the approaching tanks broke their conversation again. Tim couldn't help but offer one last retort to the fleeing ex-MI9 Techs.

            "Good luck, you two…I'll see you both in HELL!!"

            The MI9 Enhanceds blasted out of there in a pair of warp beams. Now it wasn't their fight anymore.

            The tank shells were exploding more and more, and the ground forces had caught sight of Willow and Bristol. The target was New Denver, but they were in the way. They were targets.

            They weren't far from the city limits when things really began to heat up…By the time they made it within the relative safety of the concrete jungle, shrapnel had already gashed through Willow's arm.

            They blasted a window open three blocks inside the city limits and flung themselves through it. Thankfully, nobody was home in the apartment.

            "Let me see that wound." Bristol said quietly. Willow stared back at her comrade with glassy eyes, then shook her head.

            "I think…we have bigger worries than a scratch on me arm." Willow said in gasping breaths. Nonetheless, Bristol turned her arm over and stared at it.

            "God…they did a number on you." Bristol gasped. "It's sealed off, at least…" Bristol reached into her chest compartment and pulled out a medical scanner, running it over the wound. "Shrapnel…one of the stupidest weapons of war ever invented." She shook her head angrily. "Just one thing after another…"

            "Bristol, SHUT IT." Willow barked angrily. Her glassy eyes glimmered in tears. "You don't get it…You naïve fool, you don't get it…"

            "You call ME naïve?" Bristol snipped back. "I was the most brilliant R&D scientist!"

            "And now they're all either dead or scattered, the same as us." Willow snapped. "You were the one that created the Berserker Beacon. It was YOU that gave them the bio-implants. It was YOU that made it possible for humans to use warp transport!! Bristol, FACE THE FACTS, LASS. It was YOU that made it possible for MI9 to kill us. You are the one who carries the blame for our woes. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MADE IT POSSIBLE FOR US TO BE DESTROYED."

            And there the silence hung between them, as the explosions drew nearer, the hoots and calls louder by the second. Bristol's eyes brimmed with angry, hurtful tears. A retort hung in the back of her throat, just waiting to come out. Willow braced herself for it. Ever since they'd been on the run, it had been like this. If they weren't worried about avoiding MI9, Bristol had been forced to deal with the truth it was her fault. That she was, by her inventions and genius, the one who made it possible for MI9 to carry out its extermination of the reploids in its employ.

            Her head bowed to the ground, blond hair hanging over her face as she shook her head back and forth. And then the ground began to grow wet.

            "You're right…" Bristol croaked angrily. "You were always right…" She dropped the medical scanner, still shaking her head. "You tried to warn me. You tried to tell me that the Berserker Beacon posed as much of a danger as it did a benefit…And I didn't listen, God forgive me, but I didn't listen…"

            "Nothing we can do about it now." Willow consoled her, quieting her angry tone. Which wasn't hard to do, considering how tired she felt. "For all the brilliance you have, you never got around to time travel." She reached her good arm down and lifted Bristol's chin. Bristol's face was crestfallen as it had ever been, and red and teary to boot. "Come on, Bristol. This isn't the time to mourn. MI9 has left us for dead or worse in the stead of these Mavericks…And unless we get moving, then we're as dead as they think we are."

            Bristol sat there dumbly for a few more moments, and Willow snapped. "Damnit, lass, don't go catatonic on me! I made a promise that as long as I breathed, you wouldn't fall into harm's way, and I mean to stand fast by that oath!"

            "I'm all right…I'm all right now." Bristol uttered, coming back to her senses. She looked into Willow's eyes and nodded. "Somehow, some way, if we ever survive this, I'm going to head back there one day. And then I'm going to stop them. God help me, if I get the chance, all my work shall be torn asunder from them, I'll stop them in their tracks!"

            "IF being the key word, Bristol." Willow reminded her gently. "We're far from out of the woods yet."

            To emphasize their point, a louder explosion rattled the building, and a figure blasted the door open. Bristol and Willow cringed against the blast, then stared through the clearing dust. A figure stepped through the door, sucking in a lungful of air before exhaling it in satisfaction.

            "Nothing like the smell of ozone in the morning!" He chuckled, staring down at them. Both Bristol and Willow noticed the all too large plasma cannon in his arms, which didn't rely on an integrated Buster system, but its own power supply. "Aah, some of our first victims. Time for the world to feel the pain of Mavericks once again!"

            "Unless you wish to die, I suggest you turn around and pretend you never saw us." Willow clipped, moving herself in front of Bristol and pointing with her good arm. The Maverick, a spry thing of medium build looked at Willow and chuckled for a bit.

            "Geez, I'm supposed to be frightened?" He wiggled the business end of his weapon. "I'm the one with the gun here, sweetie. There isn't exactly a whole helluva lot you can do."

            "No?" Quipped Willow, humor seeping into her voice. It vanished a moment later as she drew in her pointing index finger and straightened her fist.

            Before the Maverick could so much as utter a shout of surprise, Willow had fired off a round of her plasmic explosives, nailing him directly in the chest and carrying him out into the street before it exploded and claimed him in a maelstrom of plasma.

            Willow lowered her arm. "Well, I did warn him." She picked up Bristol and clucked her tongue. "Lass, if that was the welcoming wagon, we have our work cut out for us."

            "What about your arm?" Bristol asked quickly. Willow shook her head sadly.

            "Nothing to be done about that now…I'm just going to have to deal with it."

            Off in the distance, they could hear the hovertanks draw nearer.

            "We're always running, aren't we?" Bristol murmured bitterly. Willow pulled out her beam whip, but didn't turn it on.

            "Do ye have a better idea?"

            Of course, Bristol didn't.

            Kalinka didn't expect any visitors as she stood on the outer wall of her father's ancient Citadel. She had expected nothing but quiet, the low moaning of the wind as it blew past at its own slow, disparaging rate. Even now, in late June, she still found it more comfortable to put on a coat. Especially seeing as the sun was now dipped below the horizon, filling the sky with a cool pink that warned of the chill night to come.

            It was remarkably similar to the one she had worn as a child. The red fabric, the fur lining, the boots…In fact, if one looked at a picture of Kalinka when she was ten, and one in the present, the only striking distances they might find, aside from the obvious signs of aging, would be her thinner blond hair, her sadder eyes, and the mask she seemed to wear.

            It was Pharaoh Man who always seemed to have an intuitive ability to track her down. And he'd used it again to find her.

            "The horizon is quite good this time of night." Pharaoh Man announced gently, stepping beside the only human remaining in the Citadel and staring out over the horizon.

            This was one sight that never changed. No matter what year it was, the wilderness of Siberia remained untouched. It had looked the same thirty years ago as it did now.

            It had been 2091 then…And it was Sergei Cossack that had stood where Kalinka now did. Pharaoh Man had there as well.

            "Master Cossack, what troubles you?" Pharaoh Man had asked. Slowly, firmly, the roboticist, with his thinning brown hair and streaks of gray, had turned about. Looking through the thick lenses of his glasses, he had acknowledged his creation's presence.

            "You know me that well now, don't you?" Sergei Cossack said grimly, turning back to the sunset. "You know that I stand here because my heart searches for answers my mind has not found."

            "Something along those lines, yes." Pharaoh Man spoke back. "And somehow, I come to the conclusion that your answers belong to questions that nobody can answer. Because they are no longer among the living."

            Cossack said nothing then, so Pharaoh Man continued. "It's about Mega Man and his family, isn't it?"

            There, Cossack offered a nod.

            "It is." He turned to Pharaoh Man. "You were there when Light brought Mega Man's body to us, and we put it into the inner chambers of the Fourth Ring."

            "The Mausoleum, I remember." Pharaoh Man nodded. "And after that, before October of 2087, when Light's information capsule arrived."

            "Yes." Cossack said sadly. "And that is why my mind sits in unease." He stepped back, pulling his hands from the loose folds of his laboratory smock. "Mega Man and the others gave their lives so Wily's Demon could be stopped. They died…because that madman didn't know when to quit. He made a monster, and they all sacrificed their lives to stop him."

            "If it were fiction, that would be known as a noble sacrifice." Pharaoh Man observed. Sergei Cossack clenched his fists up.

            "But this is real…I can never believe they all had to die because of some sort of prophecy, some twist of fate. It wasn't their time yet, they didn't deserve to be annihilated the way they were!!"

            Doctor Cossack yelled the last part of his reply, his fists becoming white knuckled as he squeezed them tightly.

            Slowly, though, the rage left him. And grief took its place.

            "It shouldn't have happened like that. It shouldn't have. And some day from now, the one they died to save, Mega Man X will come. Looking for answers, for some sort of bearing on his life."

            Cossack turned about, his eyes red. "So what would I tell him, Pharaoh Man? He would come seeking comfort, and all I could offer him is my own pain. What good would I be to him? X will know nothing of his past, nothing of how he came to be and what happened to his family. Do I tell him the truth, Pharaoh Man? Do I tell him that they were all murdered?! Killed by Wily's final creation??"

            Cossack shook his head sadly. "What kind of a legacy is that…What good am I to X? I can't accept what has happened. They were my friends, they were the ones I dedicated my life to helping…and in the end, I couldn't help them. I could do nothing to stop them from dying."

            "There was nothing you COULD do." Pharaoh Man emphasized sternly. "I too, have thought at times that the guilt was there for a reason, that it stood there because there was something I could have done to help them. But I came to one conclusion, Doctor. And that was that the guilt was irrational. There was nothing I could have done…nothing YOU could have done to stop Wily's Demon. Nothing you could do to stop the chain of events from happening."

            Cossack remained quiet there, and Pharaoh Man continued.

            "Mega Man is gone. They're all gone. But their legacy remains. It's been six years now, Doctor Cossack. Eventually, you will have to stop this human emotional state known as grieving. It is not healthy, and you could never honor their memory by continuing it. Move on, Doctor Cossack. Remember what they did. Never forget them. But move on."

            Sergei Cossack blinked a few times, then stared at the horizon. Pharaoh Man looked as well.

            The pink sun had descended, letting a dull purple and blue claim everything. The wind blew by, brushing Cossack's laboratory smock gently around his khaki covered legs.

            "Pharaoh Man, even though you are a robot…there are times where you seem to go beyond that simple definition."

            "Trust me, Doctor, it is not intentional."

            "No, it isn't." Cossack agreed, a small twinkle in his eye. "It's instinctive."

            "Pharaoh Man?"

            The silver and goldenrod colored robot blinked a few times before coming back to his senses. "Pardon?"

            "You blinked out for a moment there." Kalinka said, a small smile on her face. "Were you thinking?"

            "Remembering." Pharaoh Man said calmly. He turned to Kalinka. "About your father…and what happened in 2085."

            Kalinka's smile vanished in an instant. "What of it?"

            "Your father never moved past his grief of that event until 2091. And it wasn't until just now…I realized how very similar the two of you are."

            "Just how so?"

            "Thirty years ago, he too could not move past the reality that Mega Man and the others were gone. That they weren't coming back."

            "So?"

            "Admit it. You, too, have not moved past that either." Pharaoh Man said flatly. "Because there was one person in that group that you cared for, more than any other."

            "Oh?" Kalinka asked, humoring Phare. Her voice was different now, not seeping into bitter anger as it had before. Phare knew it was because he had lived, because she cared for him now.

            "You had feelings for Protoman." Pharaoh Man said gently. Kalinka backed away in shock.

            "But…but you were still fighting for your life when I said tha…"

            "You've shown signs of it before." Pharaoh Man explained. "It wasn't just recent. And you can be honest now. You can admit it."

            Kalinka drew her fur coat tighter around herself, cringing as the wind picked up. Her sad eyes darkened, and she finally exhaled.

            "Yes…I admit it." She turned around and smiled a small, sad smile. "I…loved Protoman."

            "Because he'd saved your life?" Pharaoh Man prodded.

            "It was more than just saving my life." Kalinka said weakly. "I was kidnapped by robots belonging to Doctor Wily. They put me into a tiny prison cell on the outer wall of his Castle and left me to rot. The room was unheated, they fed me little to no food…I was just a bargaining chip for them. An expendable piece of organic flesh they didn't care about." Her eyes grew red as her tears began to form. "I can't even remember how long I was there. One day was the same as any other day, the drudgery stayed the same. The cold got to me, I became sick…And I would have died there. I would have died there in that empty cell if I hadn't been rescued." There, Kalinka smiled. "It was Blues that rescued me. When he walked into the room, I thought I saw an angel. And in some odd way, that was exactly what Blues was. My guardian angel, my knight in shining armor."

            She leaned over the parapet of the Fortress wall and let the wind brush her tears away.

            "Wily's Castle was miles from this Citadel then." She pointed to the east to emphasize her point. "If Blues were to warp, he could have arrived here in minutes. But he couldn't warp. Not with me in tow. No, I was human, and warp technology has always been dangerous to human life. So we had to walk. There were times I couldn't walk, when he had to carry me. And there were times he had to stop, because I was falling asleep, and he had to watch over me." Kalinka shook her head. "I don't think he ever slept himself during that time."

            "He kept you alive." Pharaoh Man summed up.

            "More than that, Pharaoh Man." Kalinka said with a tender smile. "When I grew cold, he would give me his scarf, hold me close and turn up his body temperature…When I couldn't sleep, he would sing me to sleep…I would cry out for father, for my mother, and they were not there. But he was there. No matter what kind of shape he was in, he would hold me close, brush my hair back, soothe my nightmares, whistle until I fell to sleep in his rocking arms." She held a hand against her chest, turned to the darkening horizon again. "He was there for me, Pharaoh Man. When nobody else was, he was there for me. And I grew used to it. I cared for him."

            "You loved him." Pharaoh Man finished gently.

            "I loved him, yes." Kalinka said, her voice growing sadder. "There were nights I dreamed of him, of me being with him, of us being together until we died…" She shook her head. "Even as I grew older, it stayed with me. Nobody knew Blues like I did. To the rest of them, he was the aloof spirit. The wandering whistler. The wayfaring stranger who kept to himself." She stepped back and shut her eyes. "But he was never like that around me. He was open around me. When he spoke to me, he spoke deeply." She turned to Pharaoh Man. "Do you remember those first days after father rebuilt you, Phare? How he became obsessed with helping Doctor Light and Mega Man against Wily and his forces?"

            "It's hard for me…but yes." Pharaoh Man admitted.

            "Back then, my father almost pushed me away." Kalinka said quietly. "But Protoman never did. No matter what went on, he was always there. He would always talk to me. Always make me feel that I was important, that I belonged."

            "And that's why you can't forgive Zero." Pharaoh Man realized. "Because back in 2085, when he was The Demon, possessed by The Maverick Virus, he killed Protoman."

            "That is why." Kalinka said bitterly. She turned about to look at Pharaoh Man. "I loved Protoman, and Zero killed him."

            "But did he love you?" Pharaoh Man asked, folding his arms.

            Kalinka looked as if he'd slapped her.

            "What do you mean?!"

            "Did Blues reciprocate those feelings of love to you?" Pharaoh Man asked sadly. "Was he even capable of it?"

            Kalinka knew, of course, there had been just one answer to that.

            "No." She mumbled, bowing her head. "I told him that I loved him once…and he told me I couldn't. That it was impossible, that it wasn't healthy…"

            "Was he right?" Pharaoh Man asked. Kalinka lifted her teary face up.

            "I still don't know."

            There she began to tremble, then stepped forth and drew Pharaoh Man into a tight hug.

            Pharaoh Man stood there uncomfortably for a few moments, but then pulled her closer and hugged her back.

            She let out a choked sob and put her head to Pharaoh Man's shoulder.

            "Kalinka, eventually you'll have to let go. You'll have to move on, forgive them…" Pharaoh Man uttered sadly, stroking her hair. "The past is just that. The past. We cannot change it, and we cannot grow despondent over it. We learn from it. We grow stronger. And we keep going."

            "Don't leave me, Pharaoh Man…" Kalinka said, her voice making his new heart break. "You're all I have left. Don't leave me…"

            "It's all right now, Mistre…Sister." Pharaoh Man began, then stopped himself and finished anew. Somehow, it felt right now. Sergei Cossack's biological and technological progeny…at last finding peace in the sunset of their time. "I won't leave you. I'll never leave you." And when he said that last part, he meant it. His voice carried the soothing message with all its power.

            And so they stood there, holding tightly to one another, Pharaoh Man gently stroking Kalinka's graying hair as Protoman had done so many times in her youth. The wind blew about them, and yet they didn't care.

            Nothing mattered but the peace of two hearts.

            "I'm here, Kalinka…"

            "Phare…"

            "I'll never leave you."

            Eventually, the majority of the Mavericks had slipped into their hovertanks, resorting to taking potshots at everything and everyone in sight of their guns. And Willow and Bristol were still caught in the thick of it.

            It was harder now. They had been worn out when they'd gotten here, and their fatigue was only getting worse. They ran from building to building, trying to outrun the Mavericks. But they never could. The Mavericks were always there, always firing, always laughing and letting the explosions carry their malicious intent to everyone within earshot.

            Willow's gashed arm wasn't getting any better, and to make matters worse, she'd run out of her plasmic explosives. Even the two spares she'd had had been used. The positive side was that the Mavericks were down two hovertanks, and two full crew complements. The downside of this joy was that Willow and Bristol now lacked their strongest weapon between them. All they had left now was Willow's beam whip and Bristol's beam saber, a hot red in color.

            They made their way into an abandoned factory by jumping through the windows. As added incentive, a massive explosion rippled from where they'd jumped, pushing them farther into the aged and decrepit maw of the facility. Bristol took one look around, noticing the designs on the walls, the conveyor belts, the various limbs and arms she had seen in some form or another on so many of her comrades, then reared her head back and laughed. Laughed because the strain was so intense, she was going insane.

            "Oh, GREAT. We're going to die in a reploid assembly plant!" Bristol guffawed. Willow narrowed her eyes, then slapped Bristol across the face, ending the unnecessary laughing.

            "I realize the irony too, lass, but don't go flipping out on me. We're not done here yet!"

            Little did the two know that outside, things were heating up by no fault of their own. The Maverick's actions hadn't gone unnoticed by the world, and thus the peacekeepers had been called in.

            In countless beams of light, twenty four reploids appeared where none had stood before. Each carried a cold steely glint in their eye, and every one of them looked all too capable of creating destruction.

            In front of the pack stood two reploids, seemingly more important than the others. A red armored reploid with a long braid of yellow hair, and a red and orange armored reploid with a messy, ruffled pile of brown atop his exposed helmet. The one with the brown hair stepped away from his counterpart and drew his arms out, fists clenched tight. In one smooth motion, a pack attached to his back expanded outwards, blossoming a pair of ruthless looking Flight Wings.

            "Well, well…We got us some SMART Mavericks for a change." Zero growled, lighting his beam saber. Bastion shook his head and hovered up into the air a bit on his Powerstorm Wing's Thrusters.

            "Smart or dumb makes no difference to me. Twenty minutes from now, they'll be dust." The Commanders of the #00 and 21st Maverick Hunters Unit bellowed a loud whooping warcry, and the troops gushed forth, Busters and beam sabers raised high.

            Thus, back in the abandoned reploid assembly factory, only one hovertank blasted a hole in the wall open and forced its way inside, knocking forgotten pieces of reploid this way and that. And even that was enough to cause Willow and Bristol to tense up.

            "God, they just keep coming…"

            "Stand fast, Bristol." Willow snapped, cracking her whip on the concrete floor. "If these fugghan idiots want a fight, then that's exactly what they'll get."

            "You're the fighter, remember?!" Bristol exclaimed. Willow smirked.

            "Even so, you do a pretty fine job of taking care of yourself."

            The hovertank slowly turned its main gun about until the barrel was centered on the two of them. Just before it fired, they dashed in opposite directions. The round's explosion missed both of them easily.

            Whoever was inside the tank froze for a moment, not knowing which way to turn the cannon, which one to hit first. And that split second was enough.

            With a powerful cry, Willow dash jumped forward, swinging her beam whip down in one smooth motion and severing the gun's barrel in half.

            The smooth metal cylinder crashed to the ground with a resounding ring, still moaning as it rolled along by gravity and momentum into the wall.

            Willow was standing atop the hovertank's hatch when Bristol landed beside her, jamming her red beam saber into the hatch and tearing it apart with a few swift strokes.

            If Willow had had more plasmic discharges in her gauntlets, one would have been thrown down into the interior to blow the whole lot of the Mavericks apart. But that wasn't the case. So Willow had to drop her head down, expose herself to all the dangers within to see if there was more enemies to be faced.

            She pulled her head back out, utterly stunned. Bristol frowned.

            "What's wrong?"

            "There's nobody inside this thing…"

            "Remote controlled…" Bristol hissed in realization. A voice from the massive hole in the factory wall outside chuckled then, curdling their purple reploid blood.

            "And remote detonated."

            Willow and Bristol reacted admirably, jumping away as fast as they could with dash boots thrusting at maximum. But they couldn't escape the explosion. They couldn't outrun the shrapnel that resulted.

            The cloud cleared almost as quickly as it had come, leaving the two ex-MI9 'Techs barely standing. Fresh wounds scattered Willow's already shredded body, but Bristol looked moderately untouched. A few scrapes here and there, but for the most part she had been spared the incredible pain of metal shards ripping through her lithe body.

            But neither one of them was doing all that well now. Neither one was in any shape to fight a true threat. And through their glassy eyes, the two of them saw that that was exactly what was heading towards them.

            A figure of medium height and build stepped through the previous hole in the wall, a remote control held loosely in one hand. His armor was nothing but black, a polished obsidian that seemed to draw in all light. His hair was a brilliant white, somehow, and his eyes sparkled blue.

            "You show remarkable skill…especially considering you're not in the Hunters." He announced easily. "You managed to disarm that hovertank and were about to take out the pilots." The Maverick threw the remote in the air and blew it to shreds with one easy burst from his Buster. "Too bad for you the person you were supposed to kill was thinking two steps ahead."

            "Damn you…" Willow grunted, pulling her beam whip closer to bear. Her arm felt as heavy as lead…which wasn't hard, considering how much shrapnel remained embedded in it.

            The Maverick sneered.

            "You're just pathetic. Maybe you would have been a threat five minutes ago…but not now, not after I blew up that tank and you along with it. I'm surprised you managed to escape that much damage!" The Maverick sighed. "But I'm afraid you two are better to me alive. And do you know why?"

            "You're a sick freak who gets off on torturing women?" Bristol murmured bitterly. Despite her wounds, she managed to keep her body crouched in a low ready stance, saber at the ready. The Maverick blinked a few times, then reared his head back and laughed.

            When he stopped, his face went dead serious in a heartbeat.

            "Not hardly." He lifted a finger and pointed to Willow. Or more specifically, to her beam whip. "I'm talking about stuff like that. A beam WHIP…just incredible. Somehow, I don't know how you two did it, but you either stole that thing, or you built it on your own." The Maverick chuckled, eyes glistening like a child on Christmas morning. "And I know this sounds a little greedy…but I want it. I want that technology!"

            "You can't have it." Willow barked angrily, pulling the elongated chain of plasma surrounded links back. "The world already has enough ways of destroying itself!"

            "I see…not going to come quietly, are we?" The Maverick said darkly. His arm morphed up into a Buster. "So what will it be then? Would you destroy that amazing beam whip to spite me?"

            Willow stared down at the object in her hand, her gaze forlorn. The Maverick cackled again, almost insanely.

            "I knew it, I KNEW IT. You cannot! That beam whip is a thing of beauty, of deadly elegance! You cannot destroy it!"

            Willow looked back up, eyes angry once more.

            "I cannot destroy it…but I kin most certainly destroy YE!"

            The Maverick swung his other arm about in the air a few times, then let the whine of his Buster charge fill the musty air.

            "You are of course, welcome to try, madam."

            Willow and Bristol tried desperately to draw near the Maverick, but always he managed to sneak his way free and keep a distance, making their weapons obsolete and his own far too dangerous for comfort. Over time, the walls became scarred with burns. Assembly line conveyors were sliced to ribbons, and the air was thick with the acrid odor of ozone.

            "Not good enough, ladies!" He taunted again, loosing a green semi-charged blast at Bristol as he leapt away from the snaking length of Willow's beam whip.

            Bristol grunted as she used the whole length of her saber to cleave his shot apart, ducking down to avoid the errant spread of energy that resulted.

            Bristol looked over to Willow, who barely was managing to keep onto consciousness. One eye was already shut, and the other threatened to blur out of focus. And yet she kept going, despite the fact she was teetering so very close to death.

            And the Maverick was still there…

            "I WILL have that technology, you bitch!" The Maverick shouted suddenly.

            And there Bristol just snapped.

            This can't go on…God, he'll kill us…I WON'T LET HIM KILL US…

            She dashed forward, holding her saber high.

            The Maverick didn't take long to notice her, grinning devilishly as he brought his Buster down and beaded it on her. He fired a supershot, chuckling lowly. "And now you die."

            But Bristol didn't die. Against all odds, she pushed her 2x Variable Air Dash thrusters to their limits, jumping up and over the blistering ball of plasma that should have, by all rights, ended her life.

            And she didn't stop. She kept coming, a scream forming in the back of her throat. The Maverick panicked, began firing countless shots.

            Bristol deflected some, dodged others, and even took a few hits. But she never stopped. And like a deer in the headlights, the stunned Maverick could do little as she bore down on him…

            He let out a sudden gasp as a raw sensation of pain tore through him. Still stunned, he looked down. And it was then he noticed the blistering red beam saber jammed clean through his lower abdomen, just beneath the Microfusion tank.

            With glassy eyes that matched Bristol's own, he turned up and looked into her face in confusion and pain. But he never said a word. Not once.

            The both of them collapsed at the same time, Bristol's beam saber shutting off as she lost her grip on it and it rolled to the floor. The dead Maverick as well fell into a heap, his body rolling for a moment before finding peace.

            Bristol felt a strong hand lift her back up to her feet unsteadily.

            "You got him." Willow said weakly. Her voice was so quiet, it had almost become a whisper.

            Dully, Bristol turned her head about and looked at her only friend left in the world.

            "There are still others." Bristol motioned to the hole in the side of the factory. "Let's…get outside." And they did, leaning on one another for support.

            Only the Maverick and Bristol's abandoned beam saber in the factory now held any evidence of their presence.

            "We never did catch his name." Willow murmured, in her low, disagreeable tone that bordered between rage and quiet acceptance. "He was just one Maverick in a whole sea of trouble."

            "The strange part is, I remember that mission." Wycost grunted. "Or, at least I remember the fact I was left behind from it."

            Doan finally let his head drop from the ceiling and looked at Bristol.

            "You know, I appreciate a good story and all, but could you try to speed things up?"

            "I know speed is of the essence, Doan." Willow shot back, her eyes burning shrewdly. "MI9's forces will find a way through Horn's EM shield within an hour. Trust me, they have enough of Bristol's original ideas and theories that they can crack anything involving a warp signal."

            "Are you saying that not only do they know where this place is…But they'll be coming back?!" Horn exclaimed. The repair process on his arm had almost finished, a lot of vigor had been restored to his spirit. Willow nodded.

            "I'm sorry, Horn. But as of this moment, your island is a deathtrap. To stay here means certain death at the hands of those Enhanced humans."

            "Well, that's terrific." Horn grumbled.

            "I can see the problems in the real estate description right now." Allegro chuckled weakly. "Enhanced human infestation."

            "This is no joking matter." Willow barked. "The only course of action left to any of you, if you value your lives, is to flee now. Because they'll be coming back. And they'll be mighty angry."

            "So finish up this story already." Wycost demanded. "You and Bristol were in New Denver…which is where Bastion, Zero, and the 'joint unit' that they created for that mission found you. But why did Bristol remember nothing of her past? And why do you remember it all?"

            "Questions easily answered." Willow explained, relaxing her posture again and letting her face fall into seriousness. "Tell me lads, you all know what a neural eraser does, right?"

            Every reploid in the room nodded their heads. Willow's face didn't change.

            "Well then, I don't need to go and explain the basics. Now, Bristol came up with a spinoff of the more basic neural eraser…a portable, coin sized beauty she called a 'memory wiper'. But unlike a more traditional mind altering device, the memory wiper affects only the thing it is named after."

            She leaned back against the carpet and sighed again.

            "We knew there were other Mavericks. And now we knew that the technology we knew about…the things we had created…posed an unbelievable danger in the world. MI9 thought we were dead, or recruited to the Mavericks. They'd fled and left us to rot. But that still left the chums you Maverick Hunters spend your lives fighting against. If they found us, if they got to us, they would find a way to crack us. They would find a way to pull all our knowledge out. All our inventions, our fantastic dreams of the R&D days would be in Maverick hands. And that was a risk that we weren't willing to take. It wasn't a risk Bristol was willing to take."

            Willow sat up, running a hand through her fiery red hair, then stared at Wycost.

            "And so she decided only one thing could be done…Even if it meant…losing everything."

            "There's no other way around this??" Willow asked hollowly. What Bristol had just proposed…It was unbelievable. And it shook her to her core.

            Bristol, with her back to a building shook her head. Which was becoming harder and harder to do from the exhaustion and her wounds building up against her.

            "There's just two of us…and we're in no shape to fight. If we warp out, MI9 will know we've escaped alive. We can't leave…and we can't stay. Not as we are." Bristol laughed softly, almost passing out from the action. "You heard that Maverick, Willow. Your beam whip…my knowledge of warp technology and enhancements…If they got to us, they'd figure that out. They would force us to reveal that knowledge." Bristol trembled a bit. "The thought of the Berserker Beacon in the hands of those…monsters…"

            "But we'll lose everything. We'll forget everything…" Willow mumbled weakly, slumping to the ground beside her friend.

            Bristol looked into her eyes, acknowledging Willow's fears.

            I know…all our memories, we'll forget everything…We'll forget our technology, we'll forget our skills, we'll forget MI9 and each other and who we are…we'll lose our names, too, in all likelihood.

            "I know the consequences." Bristol croaked, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. "I know how severe they are. But we don't have a choice. Either we forget EVERYTHING…or the world stands to lose everything."

            Willow said nothing in response to that. There was no resistance as Bristol reached into her chest compartment and pulled out a single coin shaped object…the same size, and comparatively the same weight.

            "Willow…" Bristol said, hesitating to activate the red center switch embedded in the memory wiper.

            Willow looked up, her eyes as teary as her friend's.

            "Don't go getting all blubbery on me now, Bristol. And don't go getting all altruistic. You and I both know the situation we're in, there's no sense in trying to dissuage your guilt by claiming it's for a greater cause."

            "Even if it is?" Bristol parried sadly.

            Willow and Bristol took a long and hard look at one another. As if trying in some way to embed an image of each other in their memories, in some vain attempt to stop the memory wiper from removing that section of their memories.

            "Do ye think we'll ever recall each other?" Willow asked. Bristol shook her head.

            "I don't know." She lowered her face to the ground, then lifted it back up. "But no matter what happens…after we lose each other…I'll still be with you."

            "I made a promise I'd keep you alive, didn't I?" Willow asked, sniffing back another tear. "I'm just sorry that promise ended up like this."

            The two reached out their good hands, and held them together palms flat for what seemed like ages.

            The explosions far off in the distance provided a bittersweet ambience for them. In this moment, everything would change.

            And then, reluctantly, sadly, they pulled away from each other, and Bristol stood and held the device at arm's length. And even then she found herself staring into Willow's eyes.

            I'm sorry…

            Willow replied with a weak smile and a shake of her head. Altruism…God, I'm going to die because of altruism. Die in the emotional sense…because she knew the memory wiper would take away everything that made her her.

            Bristol depressed the switch of the memory wiper.

            It exploded in a blinding flash, the lights so synchronized it made an actual message. A message comparable to flashlight morse…that traveled through their optic nerves, into their minds.

            And then everything went insane.

            Bristol collapsed backwards, writhing and croaking as the command ravaged through her mind, tearing apart the connections of her memory. It took only seconds for the process to complete…but the damage was enough. Her memory files were now altered, severed from the waking world. They were lost to her.

            And she faded out into stasis, looking for all the world like some sort of fallen angel.

            Willow's reaction wasn't as subdued. She too felt the command ravage through her mind, but she fought it. She crawled and screamed, her fingers clawing at the barren ground, her mind aching.

            Warning. Auto-stasis imminent.

            But she fought it still. If only because some part of her still didn't want this to happen. Some part of Willow still wanted to live. Still wanted to exist.

            Willow made it three city blocks inside of New Denver before she finally gave out, lost to the powerful droning flash of the memory wiper. But one thought remained.

            I AM WILLOW. I AM WILLOW!!!

            Thus, the Maverick Hunters, after taking out the final remnants of the Maverick's hovertank assault on New Denver, never found Willow. That was left to the good people of the tortured city, who mistook her for a Hunter and took her to a nearby repair center to be healed.

            It was Bristol who was discovered in the aftermath of that furious assault. It was Bristol who was tended to by an enamored Bastion.

            It was Bristol who left New Denver, her own warp signature confined within that of a PTU, with MI9 oblivious to the fact that their prey was still alive.

            And it should have ended there…but it could not.

            "My God." Horn finally said, breaking the pregnant pause. He opened his mouth again, then shut it and shook his head. There was nothing more he could add. It just didn't seem right.

            "Somehow, because I fought it, because I didn't WANT to lose everything, even if it WAS for the world's benefit, my memories returned to me. And once they had, it became clear enough that the same thing might have happened to Bristol if she'd made it." Willow said, leaning one thin arm onto the coffee table and staring at Wycost and Doan. "It was simple enough to do some research about the Maverick attack on New Denver. That's where I read the Maverick Hunters had stopped the Maverick assault…And yet no mention was made of any rescued reploid, or even coming across one so torn apart…" She flipped her wild red hair back. "So I visited your system…got in and did some 'deep' research. And sure enough, there it was. The Hunters HAD rescued a reploid from that incident…and the only thing that she remembered was that her name was Bristol."

            "You hacked into our system?" Doan half asked, half accused. Willow snorted.

            "Trust me. No system is completely secure. Especially if it's connected to the net."

            "You couldn't do anything inside of there. Ever since the Shadow Hunters incident of 2122, it's impossible to modify files from an external source."

            "True, but that didn't stop me from viewing them." Willow announced, pulling herself up to her feet. She stared at the clock on the nearby wall and shook her head. "And now our time has come to a close."

            "So what are we supposed to do now, eh?" Allegro chirped. "Just pack up and leave everything?"

            "The rational option would be to slag everything in sight." Willow glared. "This place is Horn's after all…and I can tell that the lad's one Hell of an engineer. No sense in giving MI9 more stuff than they already have."

            "Do you know how difficult it is to abandon your home?" Horn asked tersely. Willow chuckled a bit.

            "Horn, you're a reploid. Reploids don't have homes. We're wanderers. We were doomed since birth to wander, belonging nowhere."

            "Your opinion, not mine." Allegro retorted. "Maybe you've just never had a home."

            "And just what would having a home do?" Willow barked back.

            Wycost leaned forward.

            "It might make you lose your wall of hostility." And for once, Willow didn't have a comeback. She just sat there, blinking in confusion. Wycost nodded. "I saw a part of you I haven't seen since when we met up in New Denver. The part of you that actually smiled."

            "I've got nothing to smile about." Willow said, shaking her head and ending Wycost's tirade abruptly. "The facts are this: We need to get off this island before reinforcements arrive. Bristol is in MI9's hands, in the HQ, no less, and I'm here. Which means I've got the fantastically suicidal mission now to go in there and SAVE HER."

            "Just wait a second." Wycost said, getting up and dropping his sunglasses over his eyes. "Are you just planning on rushing in there all by yourself?"

            "It's always been my plan before." Willow muttered. "And it's gotten me this far."

            "Not this time, you're not." Wycost ordered. He folded his arms. "I know now you're not an enemy. I know now that you're not a true Maverick. And I know that you and I, although it may sound strange, are working for the same goal. To WATCH OVER BRISTOL."

            "So you want to come along then?" Willow murmured lowly. "Are you sure that this time you'll be able to follow through? In that last battle, you never ONCE took a shot to stop one of them. To kill one of them. If you're planning on helping me rescue Bristol from MI9 HQ, it's going to be much worse. MUCH WORSE. Can you follow through?"

            Wycost took a breath, shut his eyes. And somehow, he knew he could.

            What's worse than a Maverick, Wycost?

            Isaiah had said it. Doan had said it. And now the truth was standing in front of him.

            MI9's Enhanced humans.

            "I can do it. But it won't do us any good to go rushing in there. We need to regroup somewhere else. Somewhere safe."

            "And just where would that be?" Willow asked, lifting an eyebrow.

            Wycost's response was classic.

            "Maverick Hunter Headquarters."

            There was silence for several moments, then Doan spoke up.

            "Wycost, you've got to be kidding. I know that you haven't been all there recently, but COME ON…"

            "It's perfect." Wycost said firmly. "Even if MI9 manages to run a trace on our warp signatures like Willow mentioned they'd done with her and Bristol many a time before, they're not going to send in agents to the MHHQ. Even for them, that's freaking suicide."

            "If we're going to go, let's do it." Horn announced. He pulled out his remote control and punched in a series of numbers he'd never done before.

            Another angry blare rang through the house, and Horn nodded his head.

            "That's the houses' auto-destruct. This place'll blow in two and a half minutes."

            "You rigged this place to self-DESTRUCT?!" Allegro exclaimed incredulously. Horn grinned sheepishly and shrugged again.

            "Old habits…"

            "Whatever…it suits our need well." Willow said shortly. "Just what are the coordinates for the MHHQ?" Doan stood up and looked at Wycost.

            "The two of us know 'em well enough. Horn, Allegro, you come with me. Wycost, you take Willow."

            "Stop pulling a Scooby-Doo over my eyes." Wycost growled. Doan's expression lightened, one corner of his mouth almost curling upwards. That was as close as he got to a smile after the MI9 agents had attacked.

            "I'd never think of it." Doan and Horn and Allegro left in a flash of light, leaving just Willow and Wycost.

            "Well, come on then." Wycost grunted. "We have to get out of here too." As if to emphasize his point, the house beeped another warning message.

            Willow blinked a few times, then shook her head.

            "One way of dying or another…Either way, time for our short lives to fade like a rose." She looked down at the squarish object in her hand. "This warp generator will have the files we need to get the drop on MI9's HQ without them knowing we're coming."

            "Which, for Bristol's sake, had best be very soon." Wycost admitted weakly.

            Willow calmly tucked the MI9 agent's warp generator back into her skirt pocket, then stepped next to Wycost and wrapped her arms around him.

            "Now get us out of here." She demanded. Wycost blinked a few times, then finally nodded his head.

            "As you command, milady."

            Willow's eyes narrowed. "And don't get any ideas."

            Wycost had to crack a smile.

            "Heaven forbid."

            The heavens above were all too welcome to them, as they phased out and into thoughtless matter and energy bound for the only safe haven left to them.

            And below, the island mansion of Julius Kinnian Horn exploded…claiming every screw, wire, and schematic in a tiny microfusion generated fireball that left nothing to chance.

            When the MI9 reinforcements arrived, all they found was a few scorched Treeborg palm fronds, and a gaping glassine hole in the center…

            And a few bodies of their fallen comrades who had remained outside of the blast perimeter.

            "Just what have you been building this time, Bristol?" Tarkin chuckled, walking into her office.

            Bristol was already staring at him with an eager smile, then picked up a strange cylinder off of her desk and lobbed it at him.

            The human R&D scientist caught it easily, then examined its odds and ends.

            "Hmm. Well, it looks like an ancient Pringles can, for one…but what does it do?"

            "I call it a Berserker Beacon." Bristol explained, that wide grin of accomplishment and pride still evident.

            "Well…that's an interesting name." Tarkin murmured. He set it back down on her desk and stepped back. "Feel inclined to telling me what this thing can do?"

            Bristol laughed softly.

            "Well, for one, my dear Tarkin, this is the most revolutionary device I've ever put together. Even the THEORIES on it are years ahead of its time…"

            "My, aren't we the humble one." Tarkin chuckled. Bristol waved her arm in the air.

            "Sorry. In effect, the Berserker Beacon does one thing, and it does it very well. You simply aim it at a reploid, and the device scans. Once it's done that, it latches onto a specific frequency, then fires away."

            "With what?"

            "Part one of its name. BERSERKER." Bristol said simply. "It sends out a message to the reploid. It creates fear, nightmares, illusions…It makes the reploid snap into uncontrollable fear. That minimizes their combat effectiveness, their sense of logic…" Bristol's eyes were shining with pride. "Why, imagine this being used against the Mavericks…they wouldn't stand a chance, and the stupid Maverick Uprisings would finally be over with!"

            "Indeed…" Tarkin mused. He picked the Berserker Beacon up again and weighed it between his hands. "But something this powerful…" He looked at Bristol, confusion in his eyes. "It would seem to me that this thing is a double-edged sword. What if it was used against everyday reploids?"

            And that gave Bristol pause. She'd never bothered to consider that.

            Tarkin sighed and set it back down in front of her, then tucked his hands into his pockets.

            "Does anyone else know about this?"

            "The Berserker Beacon was in my weekly status report…I sent it fifteen minutes ago…" Bristol managed to utter.

            Tarkin's eyes clouded over somewhat then.

            "Bristol, you still don't get it…we only build the things. But it's the heads of this place that decide what they're used for. I just hope for once, wiser heads will stay afloat. Otherwise…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. His hands went into his pockets, and he turned about and walked out.

            "I am become death…" He began sadly. But Bristol finished it, in a barely audible whisper.

            "The destroyer of worlds…"

            The light finally cleared away…leaving Bristol with a headache, and an even worse nightmare.

            Because it was all true. She'd forgotten it, but it had all come crashing down.

            "So now you remember." Tarkin said easily, almost gleefully. "Do you remember it all, Bristol?"

            "Every nightmarish detail, every shadow and fear…" Bristol choked out, not bothering to stop the tears that came.

            "We thought you were dead…and then you and Willow have to go and prove us wrong." Tarkin chuckled. "There are times you reploids still amaze me…you're so very resourceful."

            "And what about you, Tarkin?" Bristol croaked. "You were different than most of the others at MI9. You actually gave a damn about what happened to us. Have you changed that much?"

            "I got emotionally attached to you." Tarkin admitted. "Of course, they told me that was to be expected…working in such close quarters with you all, my mind was bound to be poisoned."

            "Is that the garbage they fed you, Tarkin? What kind of a brainwashing program did they use on you?!"

            "Brainwashing??" Tarkin mused. "Just what are…oh, never mind." He shook his head and laughed a bit. "And now that I've restored your troubled past, my dear, we come to the matter of your doctor bill."

            "You've already taken everything away from me…" Bristol choked out bitterly. "My life, my sanity, my dreams and my hopes…Just what could you possibly hope to get from me next?"

            "The Universal Berserker Frequency." Tarkin said simply.

            Bristol's eyes snapped open as if electricity had been run through her.

            She began to tremble.

            "No…" Tarkin's face morphed into a sick grin.

            "That's right, old friend. Remember when I warned you about the negative uses of your tremendously spectacular Berserker Beacon? Now is the time when your nightmares increase tenfold. We knew eventually that somehow, you and Willow found a way to overcome the effects of The Trembling…so somehow, there had to be a way to block the Berserker frequencies. Any possible Berserker frequency. So if there was a Univeral Anti-Trembler…Reason stood that there was a Universal Berserker Frequency."

            Tarkin walked out from behind his console and over next to Bristol gently stroking her flaxen hair. She cringed automatically.

            "You see, subtly we've had our field agents carrying out a…more important task. The slow and steady eradication of reploids. Your Berserker Beacons have helped us tremendously with that." He pulled his hand back. "But, the rate of progress has been somewhat unacceptable. Thus, we were ordered to take our plans into…an accelerated stage."

            He whistled a bit and crept behind Bristol, so she could not see him, only hear him.

            "And that's why we needed the Universal Berserker Frequency…so we could do just that. Unfortunately, your blueprints and design notes say nothing about the UBF. And none of us were ever able to come across it…" Tarkin sighed melodramatically. "All hope of MI9's grand dreams seemed lost. The Cleansing was destined to fail. But then a ray of hope happened." Tarkin chuckled. "We found you."

            The lights dimmed out…the gentle drone of the fluorescent bulbs faded away, leaving a deathly silence. Bristol was conscious of Tarkin's slow breathing, and her own heart's pounding.

            "And now, Bristol…Now, you will tell us just exactly what the UBF is, whether you want to or not. And then all our plans will finally see the light of day. The irony is too much, my old friend. Because this time, the quote spoken at the atomic bomb blast will truly apply to you."

            "No…" Bristol sobbed, shutting her eyes tight, wanting so desperately for everything to just fade away, screaming at herself for ever attempting this trip. She'd opened an old can of worms…and everything was falling apart. "No, please God no…"

            "Repeat after me, Bristol." Tarkin whispered into her ear, lowering his hand down over her shoulder and running it along her entire body's length.

            "I am become death…the destroyer of worlds."

            And it was then Bristol lifted her head back and screamed into the darkness.

            And she got no answer. No answer but the silence that weighed heavier on her than the loudest bomb blast.

            She was in the doorway now.

            And there was no turning back.