A/N: So here begins the story proper. Like its previous version, it begins in front of a mansion. I'm happy to see some of you are already following it. I hope you enjoy the ride. Don't forget to read and review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Megaman or any of its related properties, as they fall under the sole ownership of Capcom and its subsidiaries.

Later that same day…

"Dude. No way," cried Rocky, his jaw dropping open as he stared at the building Ian brought them to.

The Forbidden Mansion stood like a solitary grave marker against a graying cloudy sky, its lawn overgrown with vines and weeds stretching and choking the life out of whatever other foliage that might have grown on the mansion's grounds, even over the old cobblestone walls, their path obstructed by the pavement beneath Rocky's feet. The windows were blacked out, covered in smears, and the masonry was cracking under the house's wooden frame, and a few of the front doors were broken. The gates that barred the entrance of the two teenagers were made of old rusted iron, but the padlock keeping them shut was new.

Ian looked over at his dumbfounded friend. "What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? Are you trying to get us imprisoned? You know it's called 'the Forbidden Mansion' for a reason."

"And that reason is?" When Ian saw that Rocky wasn't convinced, he turned to his friend and said, "You remember that radio prank we pulled two months ago?"

Rocky felt that Ian had totally lost it. Oh, he remembered, all right—during the cold season two months before, he and Ian underwent a prank that involved taking control of the school's intercom and faking a radio broadcast of an alien invasion. Rocky remembered being pretty proud of their performances—they were so convincing that the school erupted into a minor panic while the instructors hunted them down. When they were inevitably caught, the dean punished them with a week's worth of detention and a call home, ultimately leading to a long period of grounding for the boys, much to their chagrin.

Rocky looked at Ian as though he might have just spontaneously combusted right in front of him. "Dude, you're telling me you want to break into the grounds of what is probably the most valuable and spiritually important property on all of Demeter for a prank?"

Immediately his friend grabbed him by the shoulders. "Come on; think about it, for a second! Remember all those questions Dean Malevich asked—how he thought we'd already been inside? What did he say to us when we said we had no idea what he was talking about?"

Rocky thought back to that day. He recalled that the Dean had told him to be grateful that they weren't expelled, along with…a reminder to stay away from the mansion. Rocky's eyes widened, telling Ian that he remembered. "And you didn't think that it was a little weird? And it wasn't just the Dean—the whole school faculty was in on it, hell, even my parents gave me a really weird look, and they're just a couple of bureaucrats."

"Okay, yeah, so it's weird. How does that make breaking into the Mansion any less of a bad idea? This isn't just some high school prank, this is planetary law! What if we get caught?"

Ian grimaced. "Listen to yourself, 'get caught'…look, man!" He gestured all around him.

The street in front of the grounds was empty; there was nothing but farmland all the way around them and the Mansion—they were on the outskirts of Apollo city, where one could spot some of the large, technically advanced Prehistoric Relics assigned to the Scion Agricultural Foundation tending to the fields a few miles out. The nearest bus stop into town was fifteen yards away, and the tourist vans don't visit on Thursdays—a fact which Rocky was fully aware. Running out of excuses, Rocky put his hands on his head, nearly pulling his hair out and grunting in frustration.

Ian raised his arms in a pleading gesture. "I just want to know what they're hiding from us."

Rocky sighed. Much as he hated to admit it, Ian was right—and he could do with a few answers himself. "Alright, fine. We go in; we look around, and come straight out. Leave before anyone comes looking, right?"

Ian grins. "Right. It's just another prank."

Rocky nods with a smile. "Alright. So, how do we get inside?"

The taller green-haired boy looked to the cobblestone wall, covered in vines. He reached out to tug on some vines, and said with a smirk, "We'll climb it. Come on, let's go."

Rocky nodded, grabbing a handful of vines himself before stepping into a groove between cobblestones. As they hauled themselves up, Rocky peered over the wall into the grounds and noticed something else that was odd. "You'd think they'd post guards here, if this place were so important."

Ian hauled himself over and dropped to the ground, Rocky following behind. "Eh," he said with a shrug, "in the over twelve hundred years since the place was built, and the other two hundred plus that it's been declared off-limits, I guess it's just never occurred to anyone to look inside."

The two boys scurried across the yard, keeping their heads low—just in case—and after dancing around the crumbling fountain, they found themselves at the old oaken double doors, which turned out to be locked. "Damn," said Ian, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I guess with this mighty lock in our way, there's no way we could possibly find the wonderful mysteries located inside."

"Here," Rocky chuckled. He walked up to the door and kicked at the lock three times, and on the third it swung open.

"Shit man," Ian said, startled. "I thought you were worried about getting caught."

"I was," said Rocky, "But there are no guards, and without neighbors or tourists to worry about, I figure we'll be long gone before anybody sees that there was a break-in."

"What, after all that complaining you did about us getting imprisoned?"

Rocky shrugged. "Look, are we going in, or what? We're already in too deep at this point." That much was true. Rocky figured that if he was going to break planetary law and violate international treaties like this, he might as well go all the way.

Ian just shook his head, muttering an astonished curse under his breath as he passed his new partner in crime and led the way inside.

They found themselves in what must have been at one point a beautiful reception hall, with a huge grand staircase whose floor was sunken in from a fallen chandelier, the carpet moth-eaten and rotting so that the original pattern was unidentifiable. A gloom had invaded the house, swimming through the air and sinking deep into the faded cream-colored walls. Paintings lined the walls on the second floor, the colors drained out of them as their tiny inhabitants stretched as far as they could to distance themselves from the intruders. Everything about the house seemed hostile, from the pungent odor of mildew and mold and the open doors of rooms that have caved in due to the weakened infrastructure. A small table lay next to the foot of the staircase, one of its legs broken. From what Rocky could see, not counting the entrance, there were five possible doorways to choose from—one on the second floor had been blocked by a block of wood fallen from the ceiling—he doubted either of them could move it.

Ian whistled. "Now, all of a sudden, it seems like it might have been a bad idea to have fired the caretakers when the High Elder banned people from entering."

Rocky nodded in agreement, before turning to his friend. "So how are we going to do this?"

Ian pointed with his thumb to his backpack, which he pulled off and unzipped so he could show off what he brought. Among its contents were two flashlights, six water bottles, a couple of walkie-talkies, and a camera. "I figured I'll take the camera upstairs and look around, while you take this floor. Either of us finds something interesting or if one of us falls down a hole and needs help, we'll call over the radio."

Rocky eyed the hole in the staircase where the old chandelier fell, not trusting the integrity of the stairs. "You sure you want to go up there, Ian?"

Ian shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Alright, if you say so." Rocky grabbed three water bottles and a radio, turning on the latter and stepping away a few feet. "Check, check," he muttered.

Ian depressed the button on his radio. "I hear you, check." Rocky nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. "Meet back down here, in…what, twenty, thirty minutes?"

Rocky nodded, and while Ian started slowly climbing up the stairs, hugging the railing to avoid the hole in the floor, Rocky called up, "Hey, be careful, alright?" Ian flashed a thumbs-up. With that, Rocky walked through the nearest door on the south side of the room.

Rocky stepped inside to find himself in some sort of cooking area, and he had to immediately clamp his nostrils shut to keep from vomiting from the smell. The moisture from the rusted pipes and faucet have allowed some many different species of mold to grow and strangle the air with its foul pollen. Above the sink were many cabinets, rotted out and filled with a lot of unlabeled cans and jars. There was what he assumed to be a stove in the island at the middle of the kitchen, but it was like no stove he had ever seen—it was black and grimy, but when he wiped the dust off, he saw the top to be made of shiny glass, and covered with an array of buttons and symbols. Rocky gasped in surprise, immediately regretting it as the stench of mildew invaded his mouth—this stove was far more advanced than any cookware he'd ever seen. It probably predated the A.A.T.I. (Anti-Advanced Technology Initiative) one of the past High Elders placed into law hundreds of years ago.

He looked around some more—quickly, as he didn't want to stay in the presence of the smell much longer, and found a door to some kind of cellar. Curious about the stairs leading down into the darkness, he flipped on his flashlight to illuminate the steps before going down, taking care to step gingerly in case of rotting wood. At the bottom, he found himself in a cave that stunk like someone who hadn't showered in years, the brick and masonry stretching inward about a yard before giving way to bedrock. At the other side of the room was another door, this one curiously well-preserved; it was simple wood with iron hinges and a simple knocker, rather than the metal doorknobs bound in ornately carved doors they saw topside.

Rocky was about to investigate, before he remembered that he should probably check in on Ian's status. He pushed the button on his radio. "Hey, Ian. How're things on your end?"

A crackle of static burst over the radio. "Um, haven't found much so far. Saw a few rooms that were blocked off. Found a couple of bedrooms, and what I think is a study. There are some old books on the shelf in here. I can't read most of them, between the paper crumbling or the ink being smudged, but I think some of these might be legible. What about you? You find anything?"

Rocky put the walkie-talkie to his lips. "I found a kitchen, and a door to the cellar. Cellar's basically just a cave—it's empty, nothing to see."

"Any valuables? Wine caskets, maybe old food storage?"

"No no, nothing like that. There is a door on the other side though I want to check out. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Rocky clipped his radio back on the belt loop of his jeans and gingerly pushed the door open, peering into the darkness. Shining his flashlight, he found himself confronted with a long tunnel, stretching forward and moving downhill. "Whoa," he whispered. He started heading down this new passageway, not noticing as he trod when he passed through a thin sliver of red light painting the hall the space in front of him, like a hazy screen. He simply walked straight through due to his flashlight obscuring its presence.

At the end of the hall, Rocky nearly fell over as the tunnel ended with a hole into empty space. Accidentally kicking a loose stone, it flew into the space before him, and fell with a plunk on a surface that sounded suspiciously out of place for a mansion of wood, brick and masonry. Shining his light forward, he found that there was a floor just a foot below him, and tentatively placed a foot down only to be relieved at finding that the ground is stable. When he stepped out of the hole and examined his surroundings, he found himself in a hallway with two doors on either end, where the walls—he was surprised to find—were not made of stone, but of metal, obviously not natural, but shaped with human hands. Were all mansions built like this in the old days? Rocky asked himself.

He pulled out his walkie-talkie to relay a short message to Ian. "Dude, get down here, you've got to see this!"

He walked up to the nearest bulkhead and saw a panel next to it. He remembered seeing illustrations of a panel like this in some of his father's old books; sometimes the Elders even mentioned them in their stories—it was some sort of device used to open a door instead of doorknobs, where portals can admit entry by sliding themselves into the wall instead of people having to open them on hinges. Rocky placed his hand on the cool glass of the panel to wipe off the grime and was startled when the glass started to light up before his eyes, with a picture of his hand superimposed on the screen. Green circles appeared over the thumb and fingertips, and the image of the hand disappeared in favor of its prints. Rocky watched in amazement as the screen blipped yellow and words began to appear in red text:

Finger and Hand-Print Analysis Complete.

Scan Results: Unidentifiable. Requires further processing.

Will user consent to a DNA and eye scan?

Y/N

"What the hell?" Rocky was dumbfounded. What exactly was a DNA scan supposed to be? What did this strange device want from him? Tapping the screen randomly, he eventually touched the option, "Y," causing the screen to blip yellow again. A recess in the wall slid open, and out jumped an empty metal tube jutting out of the wall and what looked like some weird contraption with two identical holes side by side. Rocky slid his finger into the tube, and felt a prick, making him yank his finger back out, sucking on it.

"What the-?"

The words on the screen now read, "THANK YOU. PLEASE LOOK INTO SCANNER." Rocky was wary of the object; what if it wanted to poke his eyes out as well? But he gave in and looked inside to see the words HOLD STILL in big, bold letters before being assaulted by a blinding flash of light.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the screen angrily, before stopping short to read the words;

Scan complete. Identity confirmed.

Welcome, General X.

Did…did that thing just call me 'X'? Rocky's eyes widened.

But before Rocky could think further about the implications of this, he was assaulted by a loud, horrible screeching noise as the wall opened its gaping mouth before him, metal sliding against metal to allow for their first visitor in over twelve hundred years. Finally, the door stood stuck, halfway open. Seeing that it obviously wasn't going to open again, Rocky had just enough room to squeeze through. Walking further through the rusted corridor, he eventually found himself in a stairwell, moving down a floor. He stopped to take a short break. And take a drink of water before picking up his radio. "Hey Ian, what's taking you? Get your ass down here! I've found something."

He waited five minutes before shrugging and walking out into a square room with five doors. When he approached the first on he saw, he walked in through the automatically opening door—the thing still unnerved him—to a small closet-sized space, with another panel on the wall next to the door. This one didn't have a screen, but a series of buttons, each with a number written next to it. Curious, he tapped the button on the very bottom, labeled "B-4," the door closed, trapping him in.

Right as he was about to try and force the door open, he felt the closet move, and began to panic, hyperventilating curses between his lips at every breath as the room moved downward, at an angle. The scared teen felt his stomach sink as the closet finally stopped with a beep, doors sliding open. Rocky just about leaped out, clutching the wall of the hallway for dear life—no one ever told him that the Earth Dwellers had made rooms that moved. The very idea seemed impossible to him.

He looked around. Another hallway, much less rusted than the one he was in previously. He wandered around, down steps, peering into rooms as he passed. A lot of them held devices he never knew existed—tables with arms attached; screens with keyboards and levers; oddly-colored pipes and glass tubes with swimming liquids colored blue, green, black and silver; some very strangely-shaped chairs with cushions—and covering it all were buttons, buttons, everywhere! What possible use would the Earth Dwellers have for so many flashing buttons and lights?

Eventually, Rocky entered a room that was nothing but brightly-colored screens and panels from wall to wall. In the middle of the room there was some sort of cylindrical terminal, with light shining from the top. Rocky lost his grip on his flashlight and dropped it on his foot, hissing in pain. When he leaned onto a nearby wall to nurse the stubbed toe and curse the offending flashlight, he saw a round hole in the wall—not made from damaged, as it was too smooth. The hole was built in. He peered inside, seeing nothing but darkness and what looked like something flashing. He reached in to grab it, before a sudden wave of pain shot up his shoulder.

Suddenly, tears were in his eyes. He couldn't see or feel anything else but pain. He fell back from the hole, his head colliding with the terminal. His vision blurred as he grasped at the source of his pain with his other hand, only to find nothing there. He swatted with his left hand, searching for his arm so he could massage the pain away, but the hand came up with nothing. His right side was wet. Why was his right side wet? A horrible sinking sensation fell into the pit of his stomach as he grasped at his shoulder, where he found out where the sticky wet sensation was coming from.

Amidst Rocky's screams and the terrifying mechanical noises coming from the (now closed) hole in the wall, a deep, monotonous voice could just barely be heard:

"DNA VERIFICATION COMPLETE. PLEASE REINSERT FOR INSTALLATION."

A/N: So there's the second chapter, completely rewritten. Even though it's basically the same sequence of events, I've got to say, I really dig this new version. Not only is there much less info dumping in the dialogue, but the grammatical structure's much cleaner, there are no more spelling errors, and even some more detail written into the setting then I put in it last time.

Plus, it helps that the third-person perspective is apparently WAY easier to write. Who knew?

So yeah, Cori likes. But who cares what I think? Why don't you review, and give me your thoughts on this new draft? I should have the next chapter up by either tomorrow or Monday, so be sure to be watching. Thanks for reading!

Peace!