Every time Beck dons the garb of the Renegade after Tron's "disappearance," he expects to be derezzed. Clu's occupation made it clear enough that they hated Tron before they repurposed him. Now more than ever, any sign of the Grid's greatest warrior— of hope— is being purged.
But Beck doesn't mind the extra risk; he has far less to lose than he used to.
The Renegade only wears his white uniform now. He hopes it burns the eyes of Clu and every soldier that looks at him, the emblem of Tron glowing bright like a beacon as he runs across the rooftops of the capital city. He knows his new methods attract more attention, but that's exactly what he wants. Programs on the street stop and stare as they look up; soldiers freeze in fear. Things are more dramatic now (he thinks they need to be), but Beck is as good at his job as he has ever been.
Every down-cycle he hits Clu where it hurts; destroying new weapons and intel, vandalizing his perfect city (entire blocks are lit with tags reading "Tron Lives," "Flynn Lives"); freeing programs before they can be rectified. Beck has become a one program army. Tonight he frees a train's worth of prisoners on route to the games, and, considering who the current champion is, he knows he's doing everyone involved a favor.
Something in his core swells as the innocent programs look at him with Hope, and he manages to keep his voice steady as he tells them Tron lives. Beck watches the last program disappear into the night, and then he turns and sees red. He is on the ground before he can reach for his disc, and then his world goes dark.
When Beck's system reboots he finds that he is handcuffed in the middle of a dark room with his helmet derezzed, all of which feels very familiar. He squashes the voice that tells him this before it can say more. He knows this isn't Tron— he has seen what happened to Tron.
A female designated program stands before him. Her face is hidden beneath a helmet, and her light-lines are a deep red. Beck's core aches as he thinks of Paige.
The program crouches so they're at eye level. When she speaks her voice is filtered, but he can still detect the cold anger it holds.
"You are not Tron." She says.
Beck snorts.
"Well, yeah. It's kind of obvious now."
"It was obvious before, too." She says. He thinks he should probably feel insulted, but instead he wants to laugh. It's been awhile since someone snarked at him.
"Why do you wear the mark of Tron?" She asks. Beck can't see her eyes, but he can feel her gaze linger on his chest. "To inspire hope? Rebellion?" She rises to her feet, towering over him. "We live in a different system now, Renegade. If you want to make a difference, your tactics need to be less flashy and more focused. Continue with this Tron scharade, and you will share his fate."
Beck's circuits burn with a sudden burst of anger and grief (he is so tired of programs who never knew Tron talking about his demise so casually), and he all but growls at her.
"What do you know about Tron?"
Her helmet derezzes. Dark eyes meet his as a blonde braid falls down her back, and Beck knows her face.
"More than most." She says.
Oh.
"Yori," His voice breaks at this cruel irony, the symmetry of everything. "You're- alive."
Her expression softens at the emotion on his face (and the use of her name), but she still frowns.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Beck." And he wants to say that he's Tron, but it feels wrong— it would certainly be wrong to say that to her. "Tron trained me." He says instead, "To be his replacement when he was damaged by Clu."
Yori closes her eyes, steeling herself as she takes the information in. Tron had escaped the coup— had stayed himself for a little while longer. But he had also been so badly damaged that he could no longer fulfill his function. She tries to imagine a version of Tron who is unable to fight, and her core longs to snap in half.
"Is that what happened?" She asks.
Beck looks away.
"More or less. The only way to undo the damage was partial rectification. It ended up being…. less partial than we'd hoped." He stares at the floor as his systems flood with guilt. "... I'm sorry."
Yori shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault."
Silence.
Eventually Beck finds the courage to look up, and takes in the way she holds herself. Yori radiates a quiet kind of strength, wisdom, and sadness— remarkably similar to Tron. He can almost pretend he's in his old mentor's presence.
"He told me about you, before. How he couldn't find you after the coup."
Yori nods, a distant kind of light in her eyes.
"I couldn't find him, either. I was told he was derezzed."
She manages a small smile as she looks at Beck.
"I feel a little silly, now." She admits, crouching beside him and freeing his hands. "I thought you had taken something that wasn't yours, but now I see that it was given to you." Her hand lingers at his wrist for a moment, and she transmits [pride/gratitude/comfort]. "I'm glad there's still a Tron."
"Thank you." Beck feels small and safe as she helps him to his feet. "I'm glad there's still a Yori."
His core lurches when he realizes that her light-lines are still red.
"You... work for Clu?" He asks weakly.
"I don't have much of a choice," Yori sighs. "My function is connected to the portal the users used to enter and exit the grid. Clu is… interested in my work. And my position allows me access to great amounts of intel. Which is… useful. For my side job."
"And what would that be?"
She crosses her arms.
"Leader of the uprising, of course."
"Of course." Beck laughs, trying not to look as surprised as he feels. Of course he and Tron weren't leading the only resistance on the grid. "Clu hasn't noticed?"
"He has no reason to suspect me." Yori shrugs, the picture of innocence. "I'm very loyal to Clu. But I'm more loyal to Tron."
For some reason that makes Beck think of a question he knows he shouldn't ask. He asks it anyway.
"And what about the Users?"
Yori's dark eyes become darker.
"I control the portal." She repeats, her voice low. "So if the users ever return, they'll have to answer to me as well as Clu."
Beck isn't sure he likes that answer; he wonders what Tron would think of it. His feelings on Users weren't as strong as Yori's, but he and Tron had argued about them enough.
Yori changes the subject.
"You've been causing quite a stir since you showed up here. Programs aren't used to so much open resistance in the capital city. This is Clu's stronghold." Her eyes glitter. "Or so he thinks. My friends and I are infiltrating the occupation from the inside out. Something big is coming. Things are going to change soon."
Yori blinks as Beck removes his modified disc. His white uniform derezzes, replaced by a darker version. He offers the white disc to her. She recognizes it.
"Here." He says. He looks tired, but he's smiling. "You should be the one to carry Tron's name. You were his partner— you're the leader of the uprising. He would want you to have this."
Yori touches the edge of the disc, hesitant. For a moment she pictures it— her in Tron's uniform, his emblem over her core, her blue light-lines restored. She would always have a part of him with her.
"Beck," She copies his sad smile, squeezing his shoulder. "Thank you. But I can't accept this. He gave it to you."
Beck sighs. To Yori's relief, he doesn't offer a second time.
"You don't even want me to use it anymore." He grumbles, turning the disc over in his hands.
She bites back a smile.
"All I was trying to say is that a little less taunting and a little more subtly would allow you to help more programs and keep from being derezzed. That's what you want, right?"
"Yes." Beck intones, rolling his eyes, but she can tell he's only joking. (Still, that would have annoyed Tron to no end.) Suddenly Yori is struck by how young he is— how tired he looks. Her gaze catches on Tron's emblem once again.
Beck does remind her of Tron. He can fight (though she still managed to sneak up on him); he cares deeply about other programs; he is trying to carry the entire Grid by himself.
Tron had found Beck worthy of carrying his legacy. He had taken him in.
She wonders how long he's been alone.
"Would you like to stay here?"
Beck's eyes meet hers, and they are full of pain. Yori's words are whisper soft, filled with sympathy, but they hurt.
"I heard about Argon."
Beck closes his eyes and turns away; another unforgivable failure.
"I'm so sorry for everything you've lost, Beck." Yori's hand on his shoulder is a gentle, grounding pressure, and he thinks that they've probably lost a lot of the same things. He tries not to tremble as she transmits [comfort/calm/safe]. "But we could use your help, and it looks like you could use ours. I trained with Tron longer than you did. We could continue your training. Work together. Build a stronger uprising." Beck looks at her over his shoulder, and she offers a soft smile. "What do you think?"
He thinks Tron would want him to stay.