Chapter 8
I've been writing to write this chapter for a long while now! Here we go!
(As of 1:47 P.M. CT, if you checked this past seven hours or so, you will notice that I did indeed edit this a little bit.)
The sun is high in the air the next day as the Helicarrier docks. Sam Flynn stands off to the far side, the wind blowing back his hair as he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets. The guards surrounding him don't flinch, weapons gripped tight as their gazes scan the world around them.
Yet all is quiet as the air carrier settles and the door extends to the waiting lot. After a second's pause, the escort approaches Fury, who waits at the top of the walkway.
"Mr. Flynn."
Sam nods, and the guards fan out behind the two. "You found one?"
Fury doesn't answer as the two enter the facility and the door latches shut behind them.
"Is it Rinzler?"
"Might be." Fury says finally, nodding to Rogers as he replaces the escort.
"You didn't just leave him in a cell, did you?"
Rogers, catching Fury's side glance, is the one to reply.
"Mr. Flynn, the tightest security measures have been placed over the program. If he is Rinzler, he won't be escaping any time soon."
"I hope so." Sam mutters. The other two merely exchange a look, but stay silent.
They approach the surveillance room. Romanoff glances up, but doesn't leave her crossed-arm position as Rogers stands next to her. They stay behind the director and the Son of Flynn. On the screen is the program's cell. It seems that in the past day, the program has barely budged from his hunched position on the slab of a bed. His eyes are cast down, and it is easy to see his hands occasionally clench his arms tighter as he tenses and his light spikes brighter before dimming again. Fury and the two Avengers are aware that Stark is watching the cell, armor ready to strike should the program try to fight...even if he has remained nearly stationary.
Sam is silent for a long moment, watching the screen, his frown growing with each second.
"That's not him."
The three turn to Sam, who for a long moment, does not move. When he does, he slowly turns to Fury.
"That's not Rinzler."
Sam turns his back to the screen, pacing away.
"Well can you tell us who it is, then?"
Sam shakes his head. "I've never seen him before...perhaps Quorra would know..."
"Quorra? Explain." Fury approaches Sam, stopping him in his pace.
"I'll go get her right now..." He begins to walk off but breaks off, and he suddenly blanches. He blinks for a long moment, then runs back to Fury.
"You need to get this in the air and get far away from here!"
"And why should I do that?" Fury's jaw sets as Sam runs his hands through his hair. "Withholding information is not going to help you_"
"You don't think that if Rinzler, a killer who has been known to go to ends to capture his target, will suddenly ignore the presence of another program?" Sam shakes his head. "It's only a matter time before_"
Rogers notices that on the screen, the program's head snaps up, eyes wide as the ground seems to rumble.
"GET BACK!" He pulls the two back as sparks fly from the screens and they are plunged into darkness. Those working begin to mutter in confusion, working to get back online.
Rogers lets go of the two before pressing a finger to his comm.
"Stark what is your status?"
The only response to his words are static and he sighs. He glances to Romanoff as she flicks on a flashlight.
"Let's go."
The program freezes in his spot as the lights disappear. The glow of his suit gives off enough light for him to see the ground in front of him. He stretches out his legs to let his feet touch the ground.
His head snaps back up at the frantic yelling of his guard. He rushes to the screen, pressing his hands against it to see the guards had flicked on lights attached to their weapons and that Iron Man's suit had survived the blackout.
System restoring. F.R.I.D.A.Y notes as his suit whirs back to life and he approaches the guards only to see...nothing.
"Scan the area."
Scanning...
"THERE HE IS!" One guard calls and they stumble back as a figure descends from the rafters to land in a crouch. He immediately gets to his feet, pulling something off his back. With a tug, the disc is no longer one, but two. A lethally orange light pierces the eyes of the witnesses and a rumble fills the air as the intruder steps into a stance.
"Patch a call to the Avengers."
F.R.I.D.A.Y obeys, but after mere moments, replies, Communications offline.
"Great." Tony mutters, and he throws out his hand. The pulse fires, and the intruder barely glances in his direction before simply moving out of the line of fire. He charges forward, and a guard crumples at the slice. The other one cries out, backing away as the intruder stalks forward, like a predator preparing for the kill.
"Hey!" Tony fires again. The program is thrown off his feet, and he hits the screen of the prisoner's cell. The occupant of the cell backs away with a cry, but it can't be heard by either the intruder or Iron Man. Tony closes in, preparing to fire again.
"Stand down."
The intruder doesn't answer, the guttural noise growing with ferocity.
"I said stand down!"
The intruder throws out his weaponless hand. Tony doesn't back away, but glances to his hand as he hears the repulsor power down.
"What?"
System lockdown.
"Deny!"
Access overidden. Shutting down...
The suit powers down and Tony can barely move before the suit refuses to move, leaving him stuck inside.
This is not normal...
The intruder no longer seems concerned with Iron Man, and he gets to his feet, picking up his weapons as he returns to his original pursuit. The remaining guard aims their weapon, only to find it unresponsive. The intruder docks his weapons on his back. His hands grasp the guard around the neck, and they try to pry his fingers off their neck. The intruder watches expressionlessly before tossing them aside. The guard's back hits the wall and they fall the ground with a limp SMACK.
The intruder turns to the door, touching the panel. Within moments, the door rises and he enters wordlessly.
The prisoner has backed and hunched into the corner, hoping not to be seen by whoever this is. However, his position seems to have the opposite effect, and the intruder makes a beeline to him. Something stirs in his chest, a feeling so familiar in more than one way. For a moment, he sees the figure in front of him, but his disks are lit with the threat of death, his head is cocked, and there is a low growl as he approaches.
"No!" The program hits his back on the wall and the scene reverts to the disc-less intruder who still approaches. The intruder doesn't seem to be listening, as he reaches out and grabs the prisoner's arm.
The scream echoes through the cell and the hall as this intruding program grabs the prisoner's arm in a death grip and the power that courses through him at the touch makes the gloves squeeze his arm.
"Shhh..." The other program utters, before pulling the prisoner to his feet. "Come."
The prisoner goes quiet at the strained words of his captor, who takes the silence as the golden opportunity to drag the unnamed program out of the cell. There is no more protest from the program as he is pulled along, past Stark and the guards and down the corridor until the two's lights have disappeared around the corner.
Just as they disappear, the lights turn back on and Stark's suit begins to power back up. He turns his head at the sound of footsteps to see a large group running towards him.
"Tony!" Steve stops in front of him as the suit unfolds. Tony stumbles out, shaking his head. "What happened?"
"Intruder." Tony breathes, shaking his head. "Program. They were able to freeze the suit in lock down before busting open the cell and making off with the program inside."
"What did they look like?" Tony glances to Sam Flynn as he approaches. When Tony doesn't reply right away, Sam presses on. "This is important! What did they look like?"
Tony shrugs as he struggles to recall. "They had orange lights on their suit...uhh...they seemed to be growling when they pulled out their weapons..."
"How many discs?"
"...Two."
Sam freezes, then turns back to Fury. "It was him."
Fury nods, having already noted this by Sam's reaction. "Any idea on why he came for the program?"
Sam runs a hand through his hair. "I...it could be anything. It could be just because he's a program, they could have been allies, or..." He breaks off for a long moment.
"Rinzler is going to kill him."
The grip on his arm remains deathlike as his captor (rescuer?) pulls him into an alleyway. He can hear the pursuit groups fanning out to find them.
However, the other program ignores the sound, fumbling with something out of the first's sight. A latch cranks and the grip tightens only momentarily before the former prisoner is dragged inside.
He is thrown, and he stumbles, gripping the spot on his arm where this other program had let go. The latch bolts them inside, and the prisoner steps back when the other program snapped towards him, the orange in his suit dimmer than before, but nonetheless present. He rumbles, stepping towards the program who is backing away.
"Go away!" The program in blue calls, his voice trembling. "What do you want!?"
He cries out as his back hits a large counter. The program_Rinzler_ takes his chance and grabs the other program's arm, pulling them down. He is dragged down to a sitting position, and Rinzler pulls out his disc, lighting it up.
"Let go of me!" The program tries to pull out of Rinzler's grip. He tries to pry Rinzler's fingers off his arm with no avail.
"Sit still!" Rinzler's growl gains an edge before it settles again. The program obeys at the snap and Rinzler seems to sigh, before returning to his task. His disc hovers over the other program's arm for a long moment, hesitating. Then, the disc slices through the metal clamp on the former prisoner's arm, before doing the same to the other. He docks his disc before ripping the gloves off the other program's hands. For a long moment, the now released program doesn't say a word. Rinzler stands and begins towards one of the chairs collecting dust in the corner.
"Thank you."
Rinzler stops for merely a moment, not looking back. Perhaps he nods, but the released program can't tell. Then, he continues on to the chair. He folds his entire body into the small seat, looking anywhere but the other program's direction. As he settles, the orange circuitry flickers to a soft blue and he sighs.
The unnamed program slowly stands and approaches. Rinzler notices, and lets his legs stretch out, his masked gaze not leaving the other program.
"Are you..." He hesitates, looking down, before continuing. "Are you Rinzler?"
Rinzler's growl heightens at the question, his circuits threaten to revert, and he looks away.
"Sorry." The other program mutters. "They kept looking for a program by the name of Rinzler so I thought..."
After a long moment, Rinzler sighs, nodding. His mask flips off, but he doesn't look to the other program.
"I..." Speaking seems to come slightly easier as the growl fades to silence. "I am known by that name."
"Known by? Do you have another name?"
Rinzler pauses. "...I don't know. I feel like there is another name...I was hoping you knew...that I knew you."
The other program approaches, to where he can finally see Rinzler's face. The scene rushes to show the figure in front of him in stellar white in a bright room, standing to where he has to look down slightly to the other program.
Yet as the program shakes his head, the scene disappears with a bittersweet feel to replace it. Rinzler is still in this dark room, watching him. Waiting.
"Tron." The name is barely a whisper, but Rinzler responds to the name, straightening to let his feet touch the floor and to stretch out his back.
"Yeah." The program continues after a moment, nodding. "Tron."
Rinzler...Tron leaned his head back, nodding. "It feels right."
"Good." The program gives a small smile. A yawn overtakes him and he shakes his head. "I may...I may get some rest."
Tron grunts and nods, and the program begins to walk away. However, he pauses at the question growing larger with each second. Should he ask...?
"Hey Tron?"
"Hm." Tron opens his eyes as the program turns back to him.
"Do you know my name?"
Tron merely watches him for a long moment and the program looks down.
"I...It's okay if you don't. I was just..."
"Beck."
He looks back up at the name. "...What?"
"Beck." Tron repeats. "It seems...fitting."
Tron relaxes again in the seat, not waiting for a reply. Beck watches Tron, and the smallest of smiles lights his face. "I like that."