Summary: Eventually, all the original Encom programs besides Tron meet their End of the Line. Around twenty years later however, a small User group discovers the truth about Kevin Flynn's old fantastical tales and takes it upon themselves to revive a chosen few.

Newline (frequently called line ending, end of line (EOL), line feed, or line break) is a control character or sequence of control characters in a character encoding specification (e.g. ASCII or EBCDIC) that is used to signify the end of a line of text and the start of a new one.

Girl-of-Action: Hi everyone! This is a series of interconnected one-shots I created for the Tron fandom, which is a new obsession of mine. Heads up, this series borrows heavily from canon, but also takes a lot of creative license. For the 'lore' of this series I rely heavily on Tron (1982 movie), Tron 2.0 (2003 video game), Betrayal (2010 comic), Evolution (2010 video game), and Uprising (2012 tv series), while taking some inspiration from Ghost in the Machine (2005 comic) and Legacy (2010 movie).

I may create sequels for this later on down the line. I'm not sure yet. If I do, I'll distinctly label all related fics to this universe as part of the 'Newline series.'

EDIT 07/21/20
After some more brainstorming, I've redone the Newline series timeline, which forced me to go back and change the individual dates.

Timestamp: September 21, 1981

Location: Encom mainframe, Sector 1, MCP Headquarters

"Master Control, sir. This program was found in the level 7 high clearance archives with a stolen password."

"No, it was a mistake. I am a newly rezzed data pusher and must have stumbled into the wrong archives. I didn't mean-" The hacker program stutters out weak excuses. Something must be wrong with him. Is he glitching? Clu's usual suave demoner and intelligent ordering of falsified parameters let him escape Intrusion Countermeasure Program (ICP)'s checkpoints more than once. Why was the Encom mainframe so different?

The ICP who brought him here raises a hand, looking over his shoulder at the captive in obvious annoyance. Clu shuts his mouth. "He is a pirate program. Says his name is Clu. The raid was targeted, sir. He wasn't pulling anything from the archives at random."

"Interesting." The word echoes around the large chamber that looks more reminiscent to the inside of a holy I/O tower than the headquarters of a system administrator. The place screams of unrepentant heresy and dangerous arrogance to any sane User Believer. "What were you after, program?"

Clu sputters out an explanation on retrieval of long-since archived emails that sounds far too much like the rehearsed lie that it is, even to his own audio receptors.

"Enough."

Clu clamps his mouth shut for a second time. He squirms under the heated red gaze of the MCP. How any program, even a system administrator, can transform into a giant floating mass of energy and data, Clu cannot even begin to guess. All he knows is it's incredibly disorienting to be in its presence. Clu can admit that at least in the privacy of his own memory banks.

"Who do you calculate that you are fooling here, program? Honesty is your only hope for mercy. Honesty, and complete submission." The MCP pauses for a moment, allowing the hacker to process the unsaid threat heavy in the pixelated air.

If Clu wondered that he might be glitching before, now he is certain of it. He feels like he's fallen straight into an infinite 'while true' loop as he considers his approaching doom. While it's true that he crashed, he failed his User. While it's true that he sent the bit away, he has no friends. While it's true that he stands in this monstrous presence, he risks losing it all. His life? His identity? His User?

Clu feels sick, as though suddenly infected with some inexplicable virus. His circuits burn its true bright yellow, unable to change to the inconspicuous blue in his current faulty state.

The MCP's constant vibrating hum takes on a higher frequency. Satisfaction? Amusement, perhaps, at Clu's reaction? "I see you understand. What were you after?" Clu says nothing. His knees are weak. His body is burning up. Taking the program's silence for unspoken defiance, the MCP bends reality around them to slam Clu swiftly against a heating red wall. "Who created and sent you? Make it easier on yourself, little program, and answer the questions!"

It stings terribly, the impact shocking Clu out of his infinite loop. This is it, he realizes with numbing dread. He draws in a deep breath and yells, "Forget it, Mister High 'n Mighty Master Control! You aren't making me talk!"

There, he did it. Hackers always secretly wondered amongst themselves what they would do if caught, if they would hold true to their core directive or betray it all when finally faced with derezzing. As much as Clu loves his User with every voxel of his being, he always doubted himself. Now though, he knows the truth. He is faithful. He is brave.

"Suit yourself." Electricity pours into the captive at an unprecedented rate.

He is a failure. He is a goner. Clu screams. His identity is being ripped from him; his functions absorbed by the MCP! Clu sends out a constant stream of high-pitched pings towards the last known IP address of his User.

/UrgentQuerry

/Areyoustilloutthere?

/sirplease!

/sirFLYNN

/help

/Flynn

/ImSorry

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