Rock woke up in a cold room. He wasn't at all surprised, as his memory came back to focus. He was surprised that his helmet was up on a stuffed mannequin head on a trophy cabinet, and that his hands had bracelets on them. He messed around with one, but it wouldn't come off. A sickening feeling entered his stomach, but he didn't know why.
He went for the door, but a growl made him leap back. Gospel. Gospel was lying there, growling at him, waiting for Rock to come by so he could have a nice chew toy. Rock wisely sat back down, studying the room. It had a bed with a patched quilt, a dresser with clothes, and a pillow on the ground that Gospel was currently laying on. There was one window, but it was close to the door. Nothing covered the walls, save a poster drawn by different hands.
"Like it?" A voice cooed, as a door shut. Forte grinned. "That's my life story, as I taught myself to draw."
Rock couldn't make out the scribbles, but didn't say anything about it. "So you captured me," he said quietly, wondering if he could transform the megabuster. Not now, a voice told him.
"Yes. And now you are my trophy. My property. You refused to fight, so you are an object. I claimed you for my own. If you want to fight, you'll find now it is impossible." He motioned to the bracelets on Rock's wrists.
"What do they do?" he asked, trying to transform a megabuster. It didn't work. Dread slowly creeped in, breaking his dam of confidence. "No…" he rushed at Forte, but Gospel fired a hail of bullets at him. Rock fell to the ground, tired and shivering.
"Oh, right, like I want you to blast me in my sleep." Forte lay down on the bed, studying Rock from a new angle. "And I'm not going to threaten you with my buster. No, that would do you in. Nor will Gospel here kill you. those bracelets send a shock to your system. The amount of shock depends on your health." He grinned evilly.
Rock whimpered as Gospel started to give his head a tongue bath.
"Right. Onto the obvious. You are not to leave this room. Nor are you to touch anything here. You are simply my prize that has not been deactivated, and since it won't fight back, will continue to remain as it is. For the room thing, if you should manage to get out, which isn't very likely, you'll come face to face with robot masters who would love to do anything with you. Literally." Forte rolled over on his bed. "Any questions?"
Rock was crying more. "I want to go home," he said through waves of sobs. Forte made a mental note not to give him water. Gospel finished, sitting back down on front of the door.
"You don't exist anymore outside these walls, Rock." Forte's voice was cold. "You gave up, remember?"
Rock's eyes went unseen in the shadow of his hair. He pulled his knees to his chest. "You can't do this…"
Forte pressed a button, which caused a shock of electricity to flow through Rockman. Rock instantly reacted, yelling, screaming, and fell to the ground. It was if someone had jabbed him with swords about the size of cars and jabbed them at him continuously.
"Can and did," Forte responded. "Now, I'm going to teach you how to behave around here. First off, you won't cry after your stupid supply runs up. Not even without tears. Second, you will always address me as Master, or Master Forte. Anything else and you'll end up like you just felt. Third, you will obey my every command- you don't belong to yourself anymore."
"No," Rock said, running to the door, trying to break it down. Gospel bit his leg, causing fluid to spill onto the floor. Rock winced. The electricity had worn him out. He couldn't stand, and collapsed to the floor. Gospel let go.
Forte sighed. "Gospel, don't chew my things." Rock couldn't even whisper, but his eyes were wide open. They darted around, nervous. Forte flipped him over, and pulled off the top half of the uniform. Rock blushed, hoping the thoughts he thought might happen didn't happen. "Hmm… nasty bruises. I don't want my trophy looking like that." Forte slowly applied a cream to them, messaging them slowly. "Don't worry. It'll help speed up the auto-repair. Astro Man thought it up, you should thank him one day."
Rock found that Forte wasn't really as evil or as overpowering as Forte thought he was. Now, having his one goal in life accomplished, he was very calm and…careful, almost tender. Rock was about to ask why, when he remembered that he was one of Forte's "things". Forte had obviously liked his things neat and clean, and Rock was far from either of those options.
However, the unlatching off his boots and the pulling down of the pants made him jerk a little. "What the-" he asked, then realized he could once again move. The cream must have worked more quickly than what he thought.
"Gospel bit you on the leg, trophy," Forte hissed, rolling his eyes. "It's not like I would ever want that from you." Gospel seemed to grin, then moved around to playing with Rock's hair. Rock was too embarrassed to care. At home, he wouldn't be caught dead with as little as having pants on.
Forte didn't look up. "You're blushing," he said. "Stop. I'm bandaging the stupid thing up." Rock nodded weakly as Forte continued bandaging. "You really went all-out for those 'human' improvements, didn't you?" he was talking about Rock's legs. "It's almost like the cardio-vascular system of a human. Veins. Arteries." Forte looked at him. "We're better than they are."
Don't say that, Rock responded mentally. Gospel was now trying to eat his hair. He winced. Forte took note.
"They built us to be better, right?" Forte gave a short, humorless laugh. "Well, you look taken care of. See that spot, next to the window?" Rock nodded, trying to peer in that direction. "That's Gospel's. Anywhere on the floor will suit you for now. Now sit up."
Rock instantly obeyed the order, his wrists begging him not to do anything more. Forte smiled. "You are the most interesting trophy I have ever won. This will be fun."