A/N: This story has been left dormant for a long long time and I apologize. I'm not really writing a lot anymore because of real life (work, going back to college for a Bachelor's degree, trying to self-teach myself a second language), but I will post the chapters that I'd written at the time that I was suuuper into Tron. There may be a time when I'll return to this story for real, as I still have all the materials and ideas that I gathered, but for now enjoy the new content!

Rinzler hadn't enjoyed himself so much in a long time. He'd exulted in the carnage, when his beloved master had allowed him loose on hapless programs whose derezolution he had decreed. Then had come the young User, who had dredged up ancient memories, and had stirred within him the personality Rinzler had believed he'd destroyed forever.

And from that point on, Rinzler had felt those stirrings grow stronger, treacherous thoughts bleeding into his consciousness. It had infuriated him, distracted him from his important work. His desire to serve Clu was poisoned by the grief of his other self, that part of him that was so loyal to the treacherous Flynn.

But now he was once again in control of himself and even though his master was dead, Rinzler could still fulfill his purpose–to destroy all programs who were disloyal. Surrounded by the data cubes of his victims, Rinzler laughed exultantly. A survivor, that's what he was; he would do anything to stand the victor. A soft, bestial growl rattled in the back of his throat.

He whirled around, bending down into crouch with cat-like grace, sensing additional presences. Twenty blue programs, led by one yellow renegade, stood at the edge of the solar sailer station. Dim recognition entered his neural pathways, and a name rose to the surface of his consciousness. "Rezz," he snarled in a hoarse, cracked voice.

She said no words, her face unreadable as her helmet clicked into place, shrouding her stony visage. A single flick of her hand caused her twenty followers to stand down, and Rinzler realized with vicious joy that she planned to take him on alone.

With deliberate calm she raised her right arm to reach behind her back, drawing her identity disc from it's casing.

Every neural circuit tingling with anticipation, Rinzler waited eagerly for his prey to make her first move.

In a flash of movement, Rezz had sprinted the distance between them and aimed a blow at Rinzler's torso. Blocking her low swing with his left disc, Rinzler knocked her arm back and struck out at her head. Rezz ducked low, narrowly avoiding the sizzling edge of his right disc, and sliced at his legs. Like a skilled gymnast, Rinzler leapt into the air and twisted sideways, catching Rezz a glancing blow on the left shoulder as he turned. She cried out in pain, and stumbled back a half-step.

Pressing his advantage, Rinzler rained heavy blows at her, forcing her back, back back. He could not see her face, but in his warped imagination he could see her expression twisted in pain. She would die, but she would suffer first.

Perhaps his own sadistic joy distracted him, for quite unexpectedly, Rinzler found his intended final blow blocked by a strong counter-strike, and the hand of Rezz's wounded arm gripping at his throat.

He wrenched himself away from her touch, the rattle in his throat growing in intensity as he became angry. No matter, he would soon finish this––

Rinzler collapsed to the ground, nerveless.

There was a moment of stunned silence, as Rinzler came to the realization that he was inexplicably beaten. The surface of the Grid clacked softly, as booted feet approached him where he lay. He couldn't even turn his head to look, but he knew who it was.

"I should derezz you," his enemy said coldly.

Rinzler didn't bother to reply. He was erupting with the need, the burning desire to kill her, but his limbs refused to move.

"For now," Rezz's voice said from somewhere above him, "sleep awhile, monster."

When he finally came to, Tron found himself lying on his side, his hands cuffed uncomfortably behind him, in a room with blank walls and no perceivable way out. With some effort he was able to sit up, but immediately he wished he hadn't because of the incredible headache that came with his movement.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to remember why he was here.

I became Rinzler again.

After such a long period where Tron hadn't felt even a flicker of Rinzler's malice in his head, his alter-ego had returned with a vengeance, murdering Tron's comrades and laughing maniacally as he did so. Laughing. Tron groaned softly.

He could feel him again. Rinzler floated just beneath the surface of Tron's consciousness, full of bloodlust and a desire for pointless violence. It was misery to be awake and aware, knowing that the monster lurked so near. In his mind, Tron could hear Rinzler's soft, rattling growl and insane laughter. A part of me.

Tron understood now that Rinzler was more than just a blind, ravenous dog; he was patient, cunning and cruel. Rinzler knew how much his existence revolted Tron, and reveled in causing him pain in whatever way he could. At least, Tron thought sadly, I'm in here, where I can't hurt anyone else.

A disembodied voice–distorted but Tron recognized it as Rezz's–spoke softly, echoing in the small chamber. "I should have you derezzed."

"Yes," Tron answered heavily. "You should."

"Tell me, did Clu send you to spy on us? On me?"

Tron could hear the hurt of his betrayal in her voice.

"No," he replied emphatically. He raised his head and looked at the single light that illuminated his prison. "Clu is dead. I saw him die." He didn't bother to control the venomous hate that coated those words.

There was a long silence.

"Clu is dead?" Rezz answered at last, sounding slightly winded.

"Yes," Tron confirmed. Being able to tell the truth at last was like a great burden being lifted off his chest. "Flynn performed Reintegration."

There was another pause after this.

"Then the Creator…he's…gone as well?"

Tron remembered. The very first time he'd met Rezz, she'd made it very clear that her greatest hope was that Flynn had returned to save the Grid. And just now, Tron had completely crushed that hope. "I'm sorry," he replied softly. "I know how much you wanted Flynn to––"

"You know nothing!" Rezz's voice snarled, her loss of composure evident through her tone. "You're just Clu's slavering lapdog! What do you know of our hopes? Of what Flynn meant to us?"

"What do you know!" Tron answered heatedly, becoming angry despite himself. "For hundreds of cycles I was trapped inside my own mind, watching helplessly as Rinzler used my body to destroy everything Flynn had worked so hard to build. Even now, when I'm in control, I can feel him, just waiting in the back of my mind, struggling to break you know what it's like, having that monster's voice inside my head?"

His outburst was met with another long silence, the tension high.

Figuring that he had nothing left to lose, Tron didn't hesitate to demand impatiently, "Well? Say something!"

"…How long…were you going to wait, before you told us your real name?"

Of all the things she could have said, this was the least expected.

"My…real name?"

"It is hard to accept," Rezz's voice said, bitterly. "That our greatest hero and our worst enemy are one and the same person. At least I now understand why you never removed your helmet."

So…she knows. This really hadn't been part of Tron's plans, but at this point his plans no longer mattered. "I thought…that it would be best. I was afraid that if people knew the truth, they would hunt me. Or shun me, like you're doing," he added.

There was only silence on her end.

"So? What now?" he asked at last. "Are you going to derezz me?"

The pause before her answer told him all of her hesitation. "I don't know."