Coming to the entrance of the largest room Tron had yet seen, he was met by a most unusual scene. If Flynn had been there, the User would have explained that this place was much like a hospital in the Real World. Numerous white-garbed programs–some with yellow hacker circuitry, and others with regular blue–were tending to programs of all kinds, even–and this was truly surprising–some repurposed programs. The patients were either sitting or lying on flat, padded beds. They were all different, but in one way they were all the same: their eyes all had a dull, listless look.

"All of these…" he said in a whisper.

"None of the patients here have their discs," Hex answered in a subdued tone. "Most of them hardly remember who they are, so it really doesn't really matter anymore what their circuitry color is."

Tron took a step forward, then another, until he found himself walking slowly by each of the beds, looking into the faces of the strays. Some of them turned their heads to watch him as they passed, while others hardly moved. The medical programs tending them paid no attention to Tron's presence.

He turned to look back, and saw that Hex was still close behind him. In a low voice Tron said, "Strays tend to go mad and violent after eight or nine full rotations. How long have these been here?"

Hex glanced round the room, and pointed. "That program there–we call him Buff, and he seems to respond to it–he's been here for almost 15 cycles."

Following the direction of Hex's finger, Tron saw a thick-set program with red circuitry and black hair, sitting with his hands folded in his lap. Perhaps he was mistaken, but Tron thought that the program looked less dull-eyed than many of the other strays in the room.

"He was the first stray program we took in," Hex explained. "Rezz tended to him personally and developed the code that keeps the madness at bay. It doesn't reverse the damage completely, but it does manage to very slowly improve their condition. She works to revise the code whenever she can, and she hopes to find the right code combination that will fully restore them."

Several more full rotations passed, and Tron began to wonder how long it would be before he was allowed to do anything besides wander the catacombs under constant guard. He was aware that several missions had been carried out during his stay; he'd seen teams of programs armed with batons and light-blades, as they passed him in the halls. He was beginning to feel restless, frustrated by his forced inactivity.

Another twenty-one full rotations came and went before Tron's monotonous schedule was interrupted. He was sitting alone in his living quarters–his guard was standing outside–when he heard voices outside his door. Looking up, he saw through the window that a second program had arrived and was speaking with Rom, the guard. Then his door hissed open softly, and the new program stepped in. "Rezz has requested your presence in the Council Room. I'm here to to take you there."

Wondering, Tron silently followed his escort to the appointed place, which turned out to be a room he'd never been to before. Inside stood a long, glassy table at the nearest end of which sat the three programs who constituted the Resistance's leadership.

"Beck," Rezz said, a pleasant expression on her face. "Thank you for coming."

Tron didn't think it would help anything to mention that he probably hadn't had any other choice.

"Please, have a seat," Rezz offered, gesturing towards a chair opposite herself and her two cohorts.

Tron took the proffered seat, then crossed his arms while he waited for them to tell him whatever they had summoned him here for.

"First off," Rezz said briskly, "I wanted to introduce these programs to you. On my left is Pavel." She tilted her head slightly in the green program's direction. He was the sour-faced one, with the constant disagreeable expression. "He's a trained medical program, but has helped me greatly with tactical planning."

Tron noticed that, despite Rezz's pleasant tone, her eyes turned a little cold when she looked at Pavel, and she seemed to tense up. As for Pavel, he gave Tron a disdainful look and the corners of his mouth appeared to turn down further, if that were even possible.

"And on my right is Cyrus," Rezz continued, her body relaxing as she turned towards the blue program.

The name sent a thrill of shock through Tron's body. Cyrus.

Impossible!

But now that he got a good look at the program's face, it was undoubtedly the same Cyrus who had saved him from Dyson's clutches all those Cycles ago. The same Cyrus who had become the first Renegade of Argon, the same Cyrus who had gone insane and attempted to destroy the Grid. The same Cyrus whom Tron had been forced to imprison in an eighth-dimension cell. And the same Cyrus who had attempted to murder him and Beck.

At the same time, Tron could see that it was an entirely different Cyrus. Gone was the crazy circuit pattern that had criss-crossed Cyrus' entire body, the last time Tron had seen him. Gone was the mad glint that had shadowed his eyes. And, strangely, Cyrus didn't react at all to hearing Beck's name. Questions whirling inside his mind, Tron turned his attention back to Rezz, who was saying,

"Cyrus helps me with organization. He is the one program who keeps this place running smoothly, making sure we have the supplies we need."

Cyrus smiled slightly, and greeted Tron with a soft, "Hello."

Tron was immensely glad that none of them could not see his face, because he was sure his mouth was hanging open. He gave a short nod in Cyrus' direction, but said nothing.

"I suppose you're wondering why we've called you here," Rezz said, with the obvious expectation that Tron would say something.

"…Yes."

"You've been on a probationary period for approximately 31 full rotations, correct?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I'm pleased to say that your guards have had nothing but good things to say about your behavior. So, after discussing it with Cyrus and Pavel, we have decided that there is no reason for your activities to be restricted any longer."

Tron half-hoped that she meant he wouldn't have a bodyguard anymore, but knew she was too shrewd and distrusting for that.

"From now on your name will be included on the list of candidates for missions, and you will be allowed to attend strategy meetings," Pavel said, coolly. His tone bespoke a reluctance, as if this decision were against his better judgement.

"Congratulations," Cyrus added, smiling with a genuine warmth that counteracted Pavel's frigidity.

"Thank you," Tron answered, standing.

"You will be informed immediately if you have been assigned a mission," Rezz said, rising to her feet also. "Thank you for your time."