Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy it and that it's worth the wait! Anyway, please review. I love hearing what people think. ~Moore12~
One
1999
He knew Clu wanted him de-rezzed long ago. When he had forced him into the games—one of the first things he had done, right before wiping out the ISOs even—he knew the reasoning behind it. Clu wanted him de-rezzed. It was that simple. He didn't want him having the chance to thwart his master plans; he didn't want him revealing his secrets; he didn't want him inciting a rebellion. He knew too much and Clu thought he was useless, just a mere actuarial program despite his modifications and far from perfect—the worst crime of all.
So Clu thought that the best way to dispose of him inconspicuously was to dump in the games and have him fight for his life.
Well, he had underestimated him, as many programs had before. He was still there, still fighting—Clu's master plan of disposing of him a complete failure. From the inside, he spread small rumors—that weren't true, but only he knew that—of Flynn's plan to rise up and destroy Clu to feed resistance. He was doing exactly what Clu wanted to prevent him from doing, and he always knew it wouldn't last forever.
And as he stared down Rinzler in what should have been just another routine disc battle, he knew it was finally going to be over. He could barely hear the roar of the unfriendly crowd, screaming for his deresolution. No, he could only hear the low growl rumbling from Rinzler's throat. It was over, he knew, but he wasn't about to go down without a fight. He would, if he was lucky, take Clu's precious pet with him.
The next thing he knew, one of Rinzler's orange identity discs nearly decapitated him—he hit the floor just in time to delay his deresolution. Just as he was scrambling to his feet, Rinzler launched the second identity disc, which he just blocked with his own. Oh users, he thought breathlessly as he got back to his feet. He's too good.
Rinzler didn't waste any time as soon as easily caught both his discs again; he launched both of them in quick succession. He blocked the first disc with his own, sending it skittering to a stop in the corner, and, to his own surprise, caught the second and launched it with all his might at his menacing opponent. The disc ricocheted off the clear roof and careened towards Rinzler with even greater force.
His opponent was on the defensive—the disc just missed grazing him as he nearly bent completely backward to avoid it—and, with a running start, he launched his own disc for the first time. He knew he had to take advantage of the opportunity of having taken Rinzler off guard, and this was a losing battle.
It was almost as if his entire world was spinning and going in slow motion as his disc cut through the air towards Rinzler. Everything seemed still and silent even though he could hear the faint roar of the now disapproving roar of the crowd. I might actually win, he thought. I might actually end this once and for all…
When Rinzler caught the disc everything sped up; his head pounded as the sounds of the crowd roared around him, as his opponent stalked towards him, playing up his victory. With two identity discs in hand—one a threatening orange, the other a pale blue—his perpetual growl morphed into an amused laugh. He was taking pleasure in what would be just another deresolution for him.
His only hope was to grab Rinzler's disc that lay in the corner. But he couldn't turn his back on his opponent to go get it. It was then he was certain it was over. "Just get it over with," he yelled, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "You know how long I've been waiting for this?"
That was when Rinzler stopped. Noticing that his opponent tensed at the sound of his voice, he continued, beginning to walk slowly backwards towards the disc, "Oh come on now! How many ISOs did you de-rezz? What's one more?"
The crowd had fallen silent at the sight of their "champion"—wasn't that what Clu had introduced him as for his first ever match in the games?—failing to finish the battle. Even though Rinzler's sudden confusion and pause didn't make much sense to him, he was going to use it to gain the advantage again. "I'm helpless!" he yelled, trying his best sound edgy. "Isn't killing the helpless what you do best?"
He had hit a raw nerve, it was apparent. The moment Rinzler started growling again, he knew he had crossed the line and thwarted his own chance of survival. As soon as Rinzler leapt towards him, he scrambled towards the identity disc in the corner, hoping to reach it before it was too late.
He didn't make it; Rinzler tackled him right before he reached the disc. He was lying on his stomach—the disc that could have saved him just out of reach—and he stared down at the ground through the clear floor. That was when he realized something: he wasn't de-rezzed, or even de-rezzing. He had happened before, and he knew it wasn't happening now. What's he waiting for? he had to stop and wonder.
Gruffly, Rinzler rolled him over to face him. Staring at his own reflection in Rinzler's black mask, he braced himself for the end. And that was when Rinzler's mask began to slowly de-rezz, revealing an all too familiar face, one he thought he would never see again.
"Tron?" he whispered weakly just before Rinzler's identity disc smashed into his mask.
His mask de-rezzed, he could only watch helplessly as Rinzler readied himself to finish his gruesome task. But he paused again, staring him in the eyes questioningly. "Ram?"
"Finish him!" Clu's voice roared over the loudspeakers and the expression on Rinzler's face steeled once more, turning to one of resolution and not of sympathy.
He could only watch as Rinzler struck him in the side of his face with his identity disc, and then the world slowly faded into inky blackness.
2009
I
Sam really didn't know what he was going to find as he walked into his father's abandoned arcade. He knew that Alan had received a message on that ancient pager of his, but what did that really mean? Was he really expecting to find his father? What was he thinking even coming here?
When he hit the switch, the whole place came to life. The arcade games—covered in plastic and layers of dust—blinked to life and began whirring and chirping, their screens bright and filled with action once more. But he hardly noticed them, hardly noticed the music pounding around him. The only thing he saw was the machine that stood at the back, a large, lit up blue sign proclaiming "Tron" overtop of it.
Walking towards the game—hoping it would answer some of his questions even though he doubted it would—Sam thought about his father again. It had been so long since he had seen him, and he had promised him a free game, hadn't he? Oh come on, Sam, he thought. That was how long ago?
He wasn't expecting when he put the quarter he had saved for so long in the machine that it would fall out, but the machine would seem to shift. He wasn't expecting to find another room, one with a dust covered computer that was still on, still working after all these years.
Well, let's get some answers, he thought as he began to type.
II
"Well, you got what you wanted," the little program growled, the dark mask covering his face hiding what Clu knew must be a sneer. "I contacted Alan for you, and that's all I'm going to do."
Clu had to respect his pluck, even though he hated him for it. For such a little program—and a former actuary with a damaged code none the less—he never seemed to have learned how to respect programs bigger and stronger than him. "Good," he snarled, trying not to sound too thrilled, lest he give away his plan. Turning to one of his guards, he said, "I no longer am of need of Ram's services. Take him back to his cell."
"Yes, sir," the guard said obediently, grabbing Ram by his arm. "Let's go."
But Ram wouldn't budge, and Clu had to wonder what had gotten into his former colleague. Maybe I'll need to ensure his deresolution during his next trip to the games, he thought. I can't allow him to live anymore, not if he's going to act like this.
"Clu," he said, his voice pleading, but his face still hidden. "Clu, whatever it is your planning, don't go through with it. I know Flynn, know him better than you do. You'll just make him angry."
What's he playing at? Clu wondered as he stared at the smaller program in wonder. He sounds like he's trying to be helpful, pleading with me not to go through with it. Damn that mask, damn Rinzler for not de-rezzing him when he had the chance.
"That's just what I want," Clu laughed, stalking over to where Ram stood to circle him menacingly. "But thanks so much for speaking for the programs."
To his surprise, Ram just snorted as his insult. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he called as the guard pulled him away, leaving Clu with his thoughts and his schemes that didn't seem so promising anymore.