A/N: Modesty aside, even though this is at least 4 years old, if not 5, I still like this. I was going to do a novelization of all the games (or at least 1-6) to tie in to Endless Waltz, but, obviously, that fell flat around the time EW did. This would have been the prologue to 2's.I still like how this turned out though.

A dull, throbbing pain welcomed him as it had every time he had awakened since a time farther back than he could remember properly. His eyes cracked open, and took in the dark, blurry, barely recognizable surroundings. His nerves twitched where they lay on the floor, sparks spewing slightly from his old wounds. His self-repair circuitry was useless, deactivated. His left hand was gone, severed at the middle of his metal radius and ulna "bones". His chest still had the broken off part of a scissor-like blade embedded in it, right in his sternum. His stomach was cut open, wires spilling out and sparking each time he attempted to move, and each attempt unsuccessful as it had been since he had been put in such a condition. Bluish-green lubricant stained his red and black armor at each wound, dried lubricant staining the ground. He had not moved – not been able to move – since the battle.

How long had it been? A week? Two weeks? A month?

A year?

He did not know. He wondered how long he would be lying there, propped up against the wall, head rolled back and immobile, eyes staring up at a dark room he could not remember entering. He wondered how long it would be before he would finally die and be relieved of his misery.

Was he condemned to lie there forever? In pain and suffering with no escape? He wished he could give his body the strength to shift at least a little so the paralyzing, broken blade in the small of his back would not be so uncomfortable, but he could not move. His spine was severed.

He closed his eyes to return to the darkness, to block everything out and return to the blessed, numb darkness.

A soft sound awakened him, and his eyes snapped open, wide. Had he been hearing things?

There it was again. Someone was climbing a ladder – the ladder to the room he was trapped inside. Was he saved? Or doomed? Either way, he welcomed whatever – or whoever – came.

The darkness shrouded the newcomer, but all he could do was stare at it, unsure whether it was male or female in the blurry blackness of the room. It shuffled towards him, muttering to itself before noticing him for the first time.

"Incredible..." the newcomer said, astonishment in its voice, "You're still coherent!" It surveyed him, pawing at him, looking him over. Who was it? What was it? Human? Robot? He could not tell. "Yet you're in worse shape than the others. How are you still awake?" He just stared at the shadow, eyes half open. What color were his eyes? What did he look like? What was his name? He could not remember. The shadow shook its head. "No matter. You will be a challenge to repair, but I will see to it. It might be best not to move you." With that, it turned away and called down the ladder. Its words were lost to the echoes of the room, indistinct. He was not sure if he should panic or not even though it would do no good.

Something else came up the ladder, carrying what looked to be a toolbox. The second figure stayed quiet while the first went back over to him and opened up the toolbox, repairing him.

Slowly, feeling came back to all of his joints, all of his extremities, everything but his nonexistent left hand. The broken blades were removed, and the holes left behind were repaired. The second shadow used alcohol cleaning pads to clean his dirty, dusty face and armor. His spine was repaired, and he could feel his legs again all the way down to his toes hidden beneath his boots. Yet even though he was completely mobile again, he could not bring himself to move. Something in his robotic brain was...what was the word? Traumatized – yes, that was it. Traumatized from "living" with the pain for so long. He could not bring himself to move nor speak, and even as he was finally completely repaired and cleaned, he still only stared up at his saviors, confused and disoriented, vision still blurry, mind still unclear. Who was he? Who were they?

The first shadow stroked its chin, confused as it muttered to itself, "Hmm...all that time still coherent while he was that damaged must have affected his mental state in some way. Looks like he's going to be an even bigger challenge than I thought."

"What should we do?" the second shadow asked, speaking for the first time. He still could not tell who they were, what they were, or whether they were male or female.

"Take him back to the Skull Fortress. I can do a better job there, and I can replace that arm." The second shadow bent and picked him up without trouble, and he flopped in its arms, limp, but he managed to lift his head just enough to rest it against the figure's shoulder, staring ahead at nothing. His left arm dangled to his side, nerves twitching. There was a bright flash of white, and suddenly they were inside a bright room, so bright it hurt his eyes at first. He could see past the shadows, but everything was even blurrier than before.

He was set on a table. He vaguely remembered his arm being replaced, barely acknowledged being asked to move his fingers to test the new arm. He still could not bring himself to speak and could not remember anything. Who he was, where he was, where he had been, why he had been there. It was all fragmented and blurry, useless and confusing.

"What is your name?" the first figure demanded, voice barely audible. He could not make himself speak. "What is your name?" The question was repeated. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. "Damn it, answer me!" The figure was growing impatient. "What is your name?"

"I...don't...know..." he finally managed to say, almost surprised at hearing his own voice.

"Damn..." the figure swore, "Memory block's damaged, too..."

Suddenly, he remembered. It lit like a lightbulb in the back of his mind. Everything else was still blurry, including his vision, but he remembered his name.

"I..."

"I am..."

The figure looked at him, expecting.

"I am...Elec Man..."