Megaman X: Elysium Rising

Mission 4: Intercept Maverick Bio-weapon

Chapter 18: The Chase Begins

By Genoscythe

Earlier that morning...

Marx flicked a chestnut lock of hair away from his eyes so that he could better watch the scene playing out before him. A bum was tugging on the coat of a pedestrian on the sidewalk before him, pleading for credits. The pedestrian had given him the cold shoulder all the way down the street, but as soon as the dirty man had touched him, he flew into a rage.

It was all disturbingly amusing, watching humans and their petty squabbles. For three hours, Marx had done just that. Sitting on the wide stoop leading up to his apartment complex, he had seen all manner of curious activity, from fistfights to apocalyptic prophets screaming messages of doom down the street. And the entire time, he had not seen a single reploid. It was almost humiliating.

The argument between the civilian and the hobo ended almost as soon as it started, with the well-dressed man running off down the street. The bum sat down in the middle of the sidewalk and tossed back a dirty bottle of liquid. God, if the normal humans smelled horrible, this man was hundreds of times worse. Marx turned off his scent receptors.

Now, to Marx's surprise, the hobo turned to look at him, an unsettling gleam in his eyes. "Heyy, mishta..." The bum began in a drunken slur. That liquid sure as hell isn't water, Marx thought to himself.

He held up a hand. "Don't start with me, buddy," he said curtly. The bum fixed him with a curious gaze.

"Jus gimme some creds. C'mon..."

Marx chuckled mirthlessly. "Do you know what I am?" He took the inebriated questioning stare to mean no. "I'm a reploid. I'm smarter than you, I can do more jobs than you, I can do them faster, I can do them more efficiently. I'm indispensable to the working force. And here I am, on Shit Street, watching humans go about their business. What makes you think I'd have any money, much less some to spare for a drunken degenerate like you?" His little speech came out much harsher than he had intended, but his audience still didn't comprehend. "That means no."

"Oh..." the bum said, staring blankly at the ground. Then, without another word, he got up and staggered down the street. Frigging drunk...

"Marx!" A hard, female voice called from the far end of the sidewalk. He turned to look, and caught a flying can on its trajectory toward his head. He saw Nephtis, passing under the stoplight on the corner, her hands full of a myriad of small and large boxes. He popped open the drink can in his hand, found it was Juice Up, the leading brand in reploid fuel drinks. He took a deep gulp as he walked toward Nephtis to relieve her of her burden. The stuff tasted like human sports drink (A substance Marx had accidentally swallowed whilst living with Dr. Belheim), but it was incredibly refreshing. A quick internal systems diagnostic revealed that he was still running at only ΒΌ energy capacity. The skirmish outside Maverick Hunter HQ yesterday had drained him more thoroughly than he had thought.

He grabbed one of the large boxes balanced on Nephtis's shoulder, holding the Juice Up can between his teeth. Abruptly, his roommate dumped the rest of her burden on top of the single box he had intended to carry before, and even against his reploid strength the weight was staggering. "What the hell did you buy?" He tried to say, though holding a can between his teeth didn't make talking any easier.

"I bought what we needed," Nephtis replied coolly.

"We're reploids. We're supposed to be able to survive in harsh conditions. Whatever's in here, we don't need it," he said, still trying to speak clearly with the can in his mouth.

Marx felt her dark eyes on him. "We live in a human apartment building, with human appliances, human food, and human furniture." She walked up and rested herself on top of the stack of boxes, looking directly into his eyes. "I'm just trying to make the conditions a little less harsh," she finished, whirling about and walking leisurely down the street toward their apartment building.

Marx cursed under his breath, hefted his burden and followed her. An argument, two broken stairs, and four dropped boxes later, the pair stood amidst the ruin of their apartment. Shoving most of the boxes into the corner, Nephtis opened the box of Juice Up cans and grabbed one for herself. Marx tossed aside his empty can and grabbed another.

To his surprise, the apartment room was equipped with a kitchen consisting of a gas stove shoved into the wall next to the bed, and a tiny tile countertop. Seemingly out of nowhere, Nephtis pulled a fold-out wooden table out of a drawer in the counter and established it near the window. Marx noticed a small bunch of chairs shoved into a corner, and he quickly grabbed two and pulled them up to the table.

Nephtis immediately collapsed onto one of the chairs, and it groaned in protest. Pressing the Juice Up can, still cold from the store freezer, against her forehead, she looked dejectedly at the floor. He took a seat across from her.

"You get what you pay for," Marx reminded her.

"You're not helping..." she muttered, the can dropping rivulets of water onto the tabletop. Marx stared out the window behind her at the street. He recalled his activities earlier that morning.

"Isn't it funny how there's more than eight billion people out there, and yet most of 'em are lonely?" He asked her casually.

She nodded. "And sad," she added.

"...and sad..." he conceded, his tone notably subdued. To Marx's dismay, their conversation fell dead at that. They sat in an unbearable silence, looking about at everything in the room except each other. Marx could think of nothing to say, nothing to do, that she would go along with. It was then that he realized he still didn't know very much about her. He didn't know what she liked, what she did, and most importantly of all, where she was from.

Finally, he could take it no more. "Why can't you open up to me? At least a little bit?" he asked, trying desperately to keep the anger from bleeding into his voice. She said nothing. "Don't I deserve to know who you are?"

This struck a chord. "Why? How did you deserve that privilege?" She said 'deserve' as if it were an exceedingly distasteful word.

"Privilege?" This was too much. "It's not a privilege to tell someone about yourself. It's called a courtesy. Especially if that someone is..." Marx trailed off. I almost said in love with you... he thought, mortified.

"That someone is...?" Nephtis prompted.

"Your roommate," he sputtered, finding a suitable answer as quickly as possible. God, what the hell am I thinking?

"Look, I'm not about to tell my story to someone like you. I don't even know you yet!"

"And I'm trying to rectify that!" At his latest proclamation, Nephtis fell silent. "I only want to hear about your past so I can get to know you."

She looked down, ashamedly. "Isn't there a better way to get to know me?" She asked modestly, the hardness in her voice all but vanished.

"What better place to start than at the beginning?" He placed his hand reassuringly on the center of the table. "I'm not trying to judge you. And hell, if you're worried about some, ah...illicit activities in your past, I'm nobody to blame you. Remember? I used to be a criminal too."

"What makes you think I'm a criminal?" She said all too quickly, her eyes flashing.

"Nothing. Just speculating, here," he held up his hands. "So? How about it?" However, as Nephtis was about to open her mouth, Marx's internal comm. link began blaring out a warning of an incoming call. Biting his tongue to keep from swearing loudly, he answered the call.

"Marx here," he said brusquely into the comm. link. Nephtis cast him a relieved glance, then turned her gaze to the floor.

"Hostile at 5th and Katsuragi streets. Commander X requests immediate backup." The voice on the other end belonged to one of HQ's operators, that much was certain. "We're prepping your armor for transit. Be ready in 2."

"Uh...sure. Anything else?" Marx glanced at Nephtis as he stood.

"Do not retire the target. Repeat, do not re-"

"Say what?"

"Target is filled with condensed kinetic energy. If the target's shell is ruptured, the energy will expand, much like helium in a popped balloon, and create a shockwave big enough to engulf half the city. Chance to survive such a shockwave is 0.007 percent."

"So what do I do?"

"Distract the target while the surrounding area is evacuated. We're already working out what to do after that."

"Wonderful," Marx said dryly as a prickly sensation enveloped him. A second later, his combat armor materialized around his body. The floor groaned loudly and sank a few inches."Any other sagely words of advice before I get myself killed?"

"Yes. Don't get killed."

"Thanks,"Marx strode past Nephtis and toward an open window. With a discreet glance back at the dark beauty still sitting at the table, he leapt through the window and fell the meager three stories down to the sidewalk below and nearly landed on a passersby. Tipping his helmet in apology, Marx bolted down the street toward the growing sound of commotion in the distance.

It killed X to let the creature go about its destructive habits, but deep down he knew his orders made sense. He stood at the spot where he had been blown to by the maverick's kinetic blast, rooted to the spot. A kinetic shockwave... I can't let that happen, X thought, for thinking was about the only option he had at the moment. He could try immobilizing it, but the operator had said that any opening in the maverick's flesh would cause a chain reaction.

Suddenly, X remembered Alia. I told her to take cover...argh, where'd she go? X looked down the street, but saw no sign of the blonde operator. Boldly, he took a step forward that went unnoticed by the maverick. The creature was now tearing into buildings on the opposite side of the street, having immediately lost interest in him, and therefore was paying no attention to him now. He took another step, and soon broke into a run down the street.

As desperately as he wanted to call out Alia's name, he feared drawing the creature's attention. Soon enough though, he was spared having to call her name when a hand reached out of an alleyway and grabbed his shoulder. It was Alia, submerged in the protective shadows of the alley, and she pulled X into the darkness with her.

"X! What on earth is that...thing?" she whispered, trying to control the terror in her voice.

"HQ's analyzing it right now. We'll know soon enough...look, Alia, you've gotta get out of here now. I mean now,"

"...why?"

"I'm about to do something really, really stupid." He said, flashing a roguish grin. Abruptly, Alia's arms flung forward and she gripped him in a tight hug.

"You're picking up one too many bad habits from Zero," she murmured, her head resting on his chest. Slowly, X returned the embrace, wrapping one arm around her back and resting the other on the back of her head.

"Don't worry about me. Not like it ever helps for me to tell you that, but I'm serious. Now get going, and don't stop until you're inside Hunter HQ," he whispered, releasing his embrace and guiding her gently back into the sunlight. He pointed down the street in the direction opposite of the creature, and Alia ran down it. X remained still, watching until she turned a corner and was out of sight.

He turned, glaring at the monstrosity down the street. Most of its arms were filled with humans in various stages of being crushed. Taking a deep, reassuring breath, X ran at full speed toward the maverick. Alia was right. X was picking up one of Zero's bad habits. He reached the maverick, which was still turned away from him, and jumped on its back. The creature stiffened, and dropped its human baggage. However, X was already gathering energy into his buster arm.

Iridescent tendrils of energy enveloped X's arm, siphoning into the barrel of his buster.The maverick began attempting to grab him, but he was largely in the creature's blind spot, beyond the reach of its arms. A warm, tingling feeling gathered in his arm as the energy intensified. Only a minute to go before he had full power...

Marx could definitely see something down the street, but what it was exactly he could not tell. It appeared to have many limbs, and they were all thrashing about, trying to grab at something on its back. The limbs weren't quite flexible enough, and they fell short of reaching the object. As Marx neared, the thing became somewhat more definable. Marx wished it wasn't.

A crawling sensation rippled across his synthetic skin as he stared, stock still, at what could only be the most hideous spider he had ever seen. Normal spiders were bad enough, but this thing made him go rigid. It was only for a moment, because then he noticed what was on the creature's back. It was Megaman X, and he seemed to be trying to overload his buster. Was this the thing HQ had told them not to kill?

"Operator, Commander X is trying to destroy the spider thing. Have you found a weakness?"

"He's WHAT!"

"He's overloading his buster on the creature's back."

"No! Stop him!" The operator cried frantically. Just then, X noticed Marx.

"Marx! Get out of here! Let me deal with this thing!" He yelled, grunting as one of the maverick's sharp claws grazed his shoulder. Marx didn't move. On one hand, he had orders to stop X from what, for all intents and purposes, looked like a kamikaze move. On the other hand, X was telling him to back off. X was one of the only people Marx had ever met who had earned his respect. And yet, did that mean he should disobey a direct order and let him die?

Whatever X was doing, it didn't seem like it was going to work. It looked like he would end up annihilating Neo Tokyo City, just like any other way. But he seemed so determined... Damn it! What to do? Marx was at a total emotional impasse. X looked about ready to overcharge his buster, so he had to make his decision fast.

"Hurry! He doesn't know what he's doing!" The operator yelled, and instinct took over. Marx ran and grabbed X, throwing him off the maverick just as the X Buster overcharged and a massive outpouring of energy rocketed into the sky, accompanied by a cry of anger and pain from X. Both Marx and X fell to the ground, X's buster arm melted and spewing forth brilliant blue vapors as it tried to cool down.

The maverick screamed in anguish as well, and for a moment, Marx braced himself and prepared for the worst. However, he never felt the blast wave hit him. He glanced at the hideous creature, ignoring the involuntary shudder of his limbs at the sight of it, and noticed that one of its claws had been burnt off. Either the kinetic energy didn't reach into the maverick's limbs, or the blazing hot energy had cauterized the wound before the energy could escape. Marx didn't have enough time to be sure, for the maverick suddenly roared and bounded off down the street. Its spider arms stretched out and pulled it forward in huge strides, and it was out of sight in a moment.

Marx swore and looked at X, writhing on the ground. His buster arm was ruined; scorched and torn by the uncontrollable release of energy. The barrel was melted shut and ragged holes ran all the way up his scorched forearm. Quickly, he activated his comm. link. "I stopped X, but he's badly injured from the overcharge. Get him out of here and into maintenance," he told the operator.

"What about the maverick?" the response came.

"I'll worry about the maverick. Just get X ready for combat again as soon as possible,"

"Take it easy. Zero and Axl are en route to your position."

"Tell them to follow my IFF signal; I won't be waiting around for them to get here,"

"Affirmative. Anything else?" the operator asked. Suddenly, Marx seemed to be the one calling the shots. Now how'd that happen? He mused to himself.

"That's all. I'll get back to you if I need anything else," Marx said, though he was already moving in the direction he hoped the creature had gone. It wouldn't be hard to follow the massive, reckless footprints torn into the street. The hard part would be what to do once he caught up to it.

End of Chapter 18

AN: I'd just like to say one thing: Capcom isn't nearly as stupid as they let on. I just got Megaman X8 today, and it's somehow restored my crumbling faith in the series. The gameplay is back to its awesome former self (even better, now that Axl's in for the ride) and for once, the voice acting is passable. They finally got cell shading right, too. I wouldn't believe it, but usually hallucinations or dreams would've ended by now. So, with any luck, it'll be a big boost to my will to write; not like I've never said that before, but one can always hope.