((AN: Don't worry, this is the only chapter that will be entirely in italics…Not that you can really call this a chapter…))
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We are tools.
Disposable tools, but tools none the less. We were not always disposable, we used to be irreplaceable, however we were outdated.
We were always tools, and we always will be tools. Our creator understood this, our owner understood this. But our owner was a strange man; he did not use us for what we were made for, rather he used us for fighting.
We were not created to destroy, not like that.
We do not care if a life is taken; we do not care if we destroy homes, forests, or even the future of the race that made us. If our owner says to destroy, we destroy. We have destroyed cities, factories, homes, hospitals. We do not discriminate, unless ordered to do so.
We were terribly effective at first, but then our creators' acquaintance brought in a different tool. A tool that surpassed all the others and, despite the fact that it is outdated like the rest of us tools, it triumphs over the newer tools, the ones made for our owners purpose.
We are mere tools, we do not question the job given to us, we follow our owners' orders to the letter, but the other tool, our enemies' tool, does not. It is older then us old tools, yet far more advanced then any other tool there is. It does not need to be told what to do, what decisions to make, it makes them on its own. And that is new, that is different. It is not as new as it once was though. The first time it was, the forth time, our time, it is much older, but still new.
Our owner dislikes it, he orders us to destroy this new but old tool. We do not question it, we are tools, we do not question our owners command, we do not think other than what way is most effective in our programming, and we do not have the ability to do anything without our owners command.
The old-new tool learned as we did battle against it. It did not have a personality made for our owners convince like we did. It adapted, it changed for its battles. We did not. It begged us to stop fighting, to help it. It was not our owner. We did not listen to it. We carried out our owners orders, we were useful.
But we failed.
We failed to destroy the other tool, we failed to carry out our owners orders, and we failed to be useful. Time after time we were rebuilt, fixed, recreated to be stronger than before. But still, we failed. After that our owner got rid of us, we were too old to be used for another tool, but powerful enough to be used against our owner.
After all, we are just tools; we do not care who owns us or who does not. We do not care what we do and what we do not do.
So he sent us to some other place, some place far away.
We do not know where, we know it is not Earth. The beings here can not seem to affect us; there are no other tools like us there. The beings are not human, they can not be owners, they can not use us. So they do not.
So now we are here, we are still tools, we have no owner.
We are not the first set of tools, we are the fourth. We are thought less, heart less, soul less, tools of man.
We are Robot Masters.
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((AN: This is technically the fourth of the "Tool" series; a series of crossover fan fics that center on the classic Mega Man/Rockman Robot Masters. However since I've yet to finish the first real chapter of the first one, come up with an idea for the second one, and start on the third one you get the fourth first. I say that this is the fourth rather than the first because this is about the Robot Masters in the fourth game. To my knowledge this is also the only Mega Man/Danny Phantom cross over on this site. (Please correct me if I'm wrong.)
I shall also take this moment to complain that there are hardly any crossover fanfics with Mega Man, it's a good and fun series of games and the bosses are basically blank slates just waiting to be messed up.
The rest of the chapters will be longer than this one. That is a promise. Any suggestions, or comments would be useful and greatly appreciated.))