Megaman X: Elysium Rising

Chapter 12: Shattered

By Genoscythe

In answer to the thunderous echo hanging in the air, the wind increased in ferocity and made the view even more grim. Maverick Hunter HQ was falling to pieces, and X's future fell with it. Signas, Douglas, Marx, Alia... they were all dead, and how many more shared their fate? Being used to heartbreak as he was, X was barely holding back the urge to cry for all he was worth, feeling that he was almost directly responsible for this. Zero walked up beside him and cleared his throat. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking this is somehow your fault, am I right?" Zero asked. X merely nodded in reply.

"I had the Maverick leader in my sights, and the generator was right there. I had everything I needed to stop the cannon, but...I didn't."

"And I'm sure there's a damn good reason for it!" Zero snapped, punching X in the arm. "You always do this. It's not your fault. You tried your best. Nobody can be right all the time, so why do you always feel like you should?"

"Because I always end up making life or death decisions, and when it's someone else's life in question...I usually get it wrong."

"Bullshit," Zero said.

"What?" X finally looked at his friend, and he could see a slight glint in his eye.

"In fact, that's almost too much bullshit to handle in one sentence. First of all, you're not usually wrong. Second of all, you are not the only one who..." Zero trailed off, shaking his head in disappointment. "Forget it. I've told you this a hundred thousand times by now, and you never listen. Why should it be any different now?"

"I...don't know," X fumed. That familiar ball of hatred was clawing its way up his throat again, and he was afraid he might snap in front of his friend. "Just let me think it over for awhile, Zero."

So it's one of those moods, huh? Zero realized, and he walked back to their temporary camp without responding. The surviving members of the 17th and Special Unit 0 were gathered under a rock outcropping, and they were passing out spare energy cells. X stood his ground, looking once more at the base of the mountain where Dopplertown lay in ruins. Being closer to the ruins, he could now clearly see the twin gravestones, and welcomed the bitter memories they brought forth.

However, in the midst of his reverie, X was brought roughly to reality by the sound of an impact close by. He looked to the sound to see a swirling pile of dirt forming over an inert body. He was about to make his way to the body when it jumped to life and flashed past him in a blur of dark silver. In the next instant, a blue blur pursued it, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

X looked in the direction the two blurs were headed as they tore up the mountainside, neither one gaining ground over the other. Then, suddenly, a beam of white light flashed down from the clifftop above and struck the silver blur. It stumbled, materializing into a recognizable reploid form before it was tackled and pushed down by the blue blur. X ran to them, and when he was close enough to see the blue form he stopped in his tracks.

"I've finally gotcha, little bastard!" the blue form cried out, pinning the silver form into the rocky ground. "You have no idea how much pain you've caused me, so be a good boy and stop struggling before I pound your valuable head in!" The voice, the mannerisms...it could only be the lost Commander Genoscythe.

"Commander!" X cried out in elation. After all the years that Genoscythe had been gone, X still couldn't shake the habit of calling him commander. The deep blue reploid snapped his head around to face X, and his ensemble was entirely unchanged. The full faceplate, the crimson eye-lenses, the crested helmet and the large beam scythe strapped to his back were the same as they had been during the Second Maverick Uprising.

"Well, well...if it isn't Megaman X," Genoscythe said.

"What happened to you? After you helped me destroy the dinosaur tank, you just disappeared!"

"X, this isn't exactly the time for reunions," his former commander said brusquely as he struggled to hold the gray form's arms together. X looked more closely at it, and a sudden wave of recognition flooded over him. Its armor profile matched the reploid that had shot down his helicopter and killed Sylph. He hadn't forgotten the helpless fury this reploid had inspired, and he called it up now as he stared down at the alien visage.

The reploid was made of a strange metal, unnaturally smooth and laced with a pattern of lines that called to mind the geoglyphs of the Nazca desert. His arms and legs were encased in cylindrical armor, and his body was uncovered to reveal a metal skeleton entwined with what appeared to be real blood-red muscle. The only part of him that resembled either a reploid or a human was his head, which was covered in dark skin and topped with apple green hair.

"Commander...who is that?" he asked. Genoscythe looked down at his hostage.

"It's really complicated, X, but...I'll give you the short version. This guy's name is Trigger, and I've been sent here to get him back."

"Sent? By who?"

"Now that I can't give you the short version of."

"...Are they the same people you went back to after you disappeared?"

"Yeah. Look, don't worry about Maverick Hunter HQ. I sent them a message when I found out about the cannon, and they all should've gotten to safety before it fired. Now, I've gotta go. I'm sure you still have questions, but this is far from the time." Genoscythe turned back to his captive, but stopped when he heard the faint sound of a buster charging. He looked back at X to see the Hunter's buster aimed at his head.

"No, Commander. I'm tired of you dodging me, and I need to know exactly who you are, where you've been, and what you're doing here." X said sternly. Whoah... Genoscythe thought. This isn't the X I left behind so long ago. He really has been maturing nicely.

"I wish I could give you the full story, but you'll have to figure it out for yourself," Genoscythe said. "Sorry, but that's the way it goes, kiddo."

"There's another way this can go, and that way's up to my charged buster," X pointed out. "You've been gone too long, Commander. I'm sorry, but I can't trust you like I did before."

"No surprise there. Unfortunately, X, there's a third way this thing can go, and it's about to happen right now." The reploid stared up at X with his implacable red lenses, and as X was trying to decipher his words, a wave of numbness hit him in the ribs and paralyzed his systems. As much as he struggled, he could do naught but collapse onto his side while he watched Genoscythe pick up the struggling Trigger.

"Elysium will be coming for you soon, X," Genoscythe said, and then he disappeared in a burst of light. It wasn't an Instant Transit – there was no beam. He was simply swallowed by a white aura, and Trigger disappeared with him.

X fought through the stun shot, and he forced himself into a sitting position. He knew Genoscythe was long gone, so he looked to the clifftop where he had seen the first stun blast emanate from. He caught a glimpse of a sniper cam attachment poking out from a rock ledge, the kind typically used on helmets belonging to the 9th Ranger Division. What was more, he caught the helmet's color scheme – orange and black – before the rectangular green lens dipped below the rock ledge and vanished.

That was a Maverick Hunter... X realized. "What the hell were you doing here, Commander?" he asked the empty mountain answered him with silence. Genoscythe's last words resounded in his head instead. Elysium is coming for me, he thought. The paradise I've been dreaming about. How? I haven't even begun to build it yet.

X hadn't mentioned his plan to more than a handful of Hunters, and there was no way Genoscythe could have known about it. His dream of a safe haven for human and reploid co-existence was so far off, he'd almost completely put it out of his mind. Perhaps Genoscythe was telling him that the time was right to start putting his ideas into action. But then, why was it coming for him? As if it already exists.

Slowly, X made his way back to the camp. After a short hike, he made it to the rock alcove where the Maverick Hunters were resting, talking and mourning. As soon as he was in view, Zero approached him.

"X, we're gonna take a quick recharge and head to the ruins of HQ to see if we can pick anything outta the rubble," Zero informed him.

"I'm guessing we'll be traveling by city?"

"Afraid so, partner. You'd better rest up for now; you look like you've been through Hell."

Marx and Nephtis stood next to Vulcan Stinger's burnt-out mobile fortress, staring at the pile of rubble that was a towering skyscraper only minutes before.

"Look on the bright side," Marx said. "If I hadn't stolen your chaser and crashed it into that tank, it would've been crushed by all that craziness anyway."

"You certainly know how to make me feel better, don't you?" Nephtis muttered.

"Well, yeah. I actually put it to good use. And you would've been crushed too if you hadn't chased after me," he pointed out. "Why did you do that, by the way?"

"I wanted to get my prototype back," Nephtis said. She began walking back toward the HQ, and Marx fell into step behind her.

"And now you know where to start digging for parts."

"Seggfej."

"Japanese, English, Russian, French, or Spanish, please."

"Asshole."

"There you go."

"It just doesn't convey hatred quite as well as Hungarian."

"I've got no problem with that."

Nephtis merely grunted and kicked a discarded helmet as they made their way through the battlefield. Marx couldn't help but admire her for charging after him without a full set of armor, much less a weapon. As they walked, they passed a mangled Adion ride chaser lying next to a destroyed siege tank.

"That was my chaser," Nephtis said. "I couldn't outrun the guns on those tanks, so I had to ditch it. Now it's just so much scrap metal..."

"I'd hate to see what you could do with a full set of equipment and a brand-new ride," Marx said appreciatively. To his surprise, Nephtis rounded on him.

"Do you understand what this means to me? That was my home!" she yelled.

"It was mine, too," Marx huffed.

"For what, five days?" she snapped. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I thought I'd finally found something worth holding onto!" he yelled. "Five days is a record for me, and I would've stayed a hell of a lot longer if the Mavs had given me the chance."

"Maybe I should thank them after all."

"Hey!" Marx said. Nephtis turned her head away. "Hey, stop for a second and listen to me."

"What?" she asked as she kept walking.

"What's your problem with me? Why do I feel like you hated me the moment you clapped eyes on me?"

"You've been an unrelenting, condescending jerk. You're useless in the hangar, you stole my ride chaser, and then you crashed it, probably because you didn't install its weapons correctly."

"No, this started before all that," Marx said, while his cheeks burned from the accusation. He had already forgotten that the destruction of the Zephyr was his fault, and he briefly wondered how she was able to figure it out so quickly. "You didn't have any reason to hate me back then, but you still did."

"It's not just you," she told him.

"So it's a sexist thing? You've got something against men?"

"I didn't say that. It's people in general."

Marx already had a fiery comeback prepared, but it sputtered out as he considered what she'd said. "People in general? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I want to be left alone!" she spat, each word flung from her mouth like thrown daggers. "But you won't take the hint!"

"There are easier ways to keep people away, y'know."

"Really? It was working great until you showed up!" Nephtis yelled, and she stomped on a dead Maverick for emphasis. They were joining the scattered crowds of Maverick Hunters milling about their destroyed base, all heading for the rubble at speeds ranging from urgent to shell-shocked. The nearest Hunters were starting to notice the helmetless beauty yelling at the angular blue-armored reploid, and Marx cast them a few self-conscious glances.

"I guess you're just gonna have to become a hermit now," he said.

"Or I could snap your neck and move on with my life."

"Or you could learn to put up with me, like a normal person."

"Why doesn't this work on you?" she asked, and she finally stopped with her foot on a wrecked ride armor. Marx stopped with her and raised a solitary eyebrow. "Are you that stubborn?"

"You know, if you really wanted to be left alone, you shouldn't have asked me to work with you last night," he said, and his tone was no longer mocking. She exhaled, and her taut features started to relax.

"I was hoping to scare you away," she explained. "And I wanted an excuse to come to your room so I could get my book back."

"All you had to do was ask," he said.

"I'm not trying to lead you on, I just..." She abruptly pressed her palms against her forehead. "I don't want to have this discussion right now, Marx. We should be digging out what's left of our home."

With that, Nephtis regained her composure and stepped over the wreckage, heading toward the wide trench that led to the main hangar door. It was completely blocked by rubble, but Komodo and Raiden units were already clearing it away. If any Maverick Hunters were lucky enough to be near the bomb shelter under the hangar, they most likely survived and were now trapped beneath their former headquarters.

Commander Hector tore through the stifling, dim bomb shelter, searching the crowd of Hunters for Signas. He had to report Malakai's betrayal before the sleazy Hunter could cause any more damage. The entire building had already collapsed on top of them, and Hector found it hard to imagine how much more damage the traitor could do, but he didn't want to find out.

Muscling through the nervous, chattering HQ staff, Hector caught a glimpse of an officer's cap by the far wall, and he plowed straight into a combat-ready Hunter as he changed direction.

"Apologies," Hector muttered.

"Hey, boss man! How was the field trip?"

Hector froze, and as he slowly pivoted around, he tried to get a handle on the psychotic frenzy threatening to overcome him once more. Malakai stood wedged between two other Hunters, arms crossed and black armor unblemished.

"Where were you?" Hector growled. "Why weren't you backing up Leon?"

"Guess it didn't go well," Malakai said.

"We work as a team, you slimy piece of..." Hector wheezed as he fought back his rage. "Explain yourself. What were you doing while the rest of your division was being ambushed?"

"Hey, don't turn this into a guilt trip thing, I wouldn't have made that much of a difference. My aim's kinda shitty, remember?"

"Answer me, worm!" Hector roared. Suddenly, a wide circle of empty space expanded around him, and his fellow Hunters all stared at him worriedly.

"It's personal, boss man. Like to keep it a little confidential, y'know?"

"Fine," Hector said. "We'll have this discussion in a jail cell if you'd like."

"Okay," Malakai replied. "Except...which pile of melted scrap used to be the jail cells?"

"I'll hand you over to the NTDA if I have to."

"What is the problem, Commander Hector?" a new voice boomed from over the lion's shoulder. His sleek mane, already disheveled with fury, now stood on end.

"Commander Signas," Hector clipped, spinning on his heels and saluting. Signas returned the salute curtly before bowing his head and fixing an inscrutable stare on the 9th Commander. "I am disciplining one of my Hunters. He was AWOL this afternoon while we were on a mission in the wastes, and I have reason to believe he may be a Maverick spy."

"And here I thought we had something special, Commander," Malakai pouted.

"What evidence do you have to support this accusation?" Signas asked.

"The IT logs. We will be able to track Malakai's movements – "

"If he made an Instant Transit at all," Signas pointed out.

"Yes, but if he helped to orchestrate this attack, he must have traveled a considerable distance to get word to them."

"Unfortunately, Commander Hector, our HQ has just been completely demolished, as you can see by the fact that we are now buried in our own bomb shelter, and the IT logs you mentioned no longer exist."

"Very convenient," Hector rumbled, glaring at Malakai.

"Even if they didn't get blown to hell, they still wouldn't tell you anything," the ranger said. "I never left home base."

"I'd like to see how you plan on backing that statement up," his commander retorted.

"Oh, I'll bet you will," Malakai answered, flashing a jack-o-lantern grin. Before Hector could fly into another rage, a tremor shook the bunker, and a crack of light flooded into the room from between the mangled front doors. A nearby navigator wrestled with the controls, and she eventually managed to get the blast doors to partially slide open. A four-legged Raiden II armor stood in the remains of the hangar bay, gently powering down its drill and shining its headlights into the packed bomb shelter.

"Commander Hector, detain Malakai – "

"Aww, man..."

" – and come with me. Alia?"

"Yes, sir?" Alia piped up, squeezing through the throng while Hector violently slapped a pair of restraints on Malakai's wrists.

"We need to set up a temporary base while we wait for aid from our other branches. I suggest Cain Laboratories."

"Housing will be an issue, sir. It's about half the size of our curren – uh, our former HQ, and our reserves are already taking up most of that space."

"At the moment, we don't have any other options," Signas said. "Coordinate with the survivors, make sure we have room at Cain Labs for the Hunters with nowhere to go."

"Yes, sir," Alia said, and she joined the steadily streaming crowd as they filed out of the bomb shelter. Signas turned back to Hector, who had already begun his interrogation by grabbing the back of Malakai's head and shaking him vigorously.

"Commander Hector."

"...find out you were tampering with the base defenses, I'll – yes, Commander Signas?"

"I will be taking up office at Cain Labs, and I want you to escort Malakai there with me. There's no need to involve the NTDA with Maverick Hunter business."

"Of course, sir."

"We've been dealt a serious blow today, but we are still more than capable of handling our own affairs."

Tread Havoc watched the egg-shaped acclimation chamber from beneath a heavy metal brow. There were twelve unguided rockets loaded into his helmet alone, and sometimes, he could feel the weight of their pent-up fury beating down on his brain. It was usually a symptom of nerves, and at the moment, he was extremely nervous over what might emerge from that chamber.

"Integration at one hundred percent," a Maverick technician said in the darkness.

"All systems functioning above normal capacity," another responded. Havoc was sure that his head would explode.

"Open it," he ordered. The technicians walked up to the acclimation chamber, twitching only slightly from the effects of the Maverick Virus, and together, they pried the front hatch apart. Steam billowed out of the chamber, and three red lights gleamed in the gray mist.

"How long has it been?" a voice echoed out of the chamber.

"Do you remember anything?" Havoc asked it.

"Answer my question, or I'll break you open and feed you your insides."

"I thought you said he re-integrated," Havoc whispered to one of the technicians.

"How long..." the bellowing voice began, rattling the acclimation chamber. It lurched forward, scattering the clouds of steam and reaching out with a massive clawed arm. "...have I been dead?"

"Two years," Havoc said. The weapon ports hidden all over his body twitched in dread anticipation. The hulk crouching before him didn't move, and a single claw blade as long as his forearm hovered right above his neck.

"I don't remember," it said. "I don't remember anything after the colony."

"You've been deteriorating ever since the Eurasia incident. You spread yourself too thin. Too many dissolutions."

"But now..." it began, lowering its claw and standing straight. "I see and think as clearly as I did the day I was made."

"We defragmented a sample of your programming and re-integrated it with personality traits from your first rebellion," Havoc explained, setting his arsenal to standby.

"I've been taking my abilities for granted," he said. "I've been taking this planet for granted. Eurasia was a mistake. If we destroy this world, there will be nothing left for our kind to inherit."

"The integration was a success," one of the technicians breathed, wringing his hands together excitedly.

"I'm here now. Whatever is left of the Earth will be ours for the taking," the massive reploid announced, curling his raised claws into a fist.

"It's good to have you back, Sigma," Tread Havoc said.

End of chapter 12