Chapter 3
Willis Tower-Chicago, Illinois
Quickman's "office" was quite sizable. Guts sat patiently, waiting for his comrade to finish the debriefing reports with King Wily. The android strolled in, donning a cocky smirk to greet his General. "All of the holo-imagery and audio from last nights little 'raid' has been relayed to the others." Quick stated, sitting down. "But for some reason or another, the feed must have been distorted by some magnetic field device, owned by Tracy Bonne and her 'personal task force'." He added air-quotations to the last part, seemingly to mock Gutsman.
Guts cut his eyes at the android, "As much as I appreciate your assistance," He began through his teeth, "my patience for your patronage is wearing thin, Quick."
Quckman's smile faded, "Let me remind you of something, General. The penalty for falsifying a completed order, especially one that directly concerns the King's safety, is punishable by entombment." He said, leaning forward. "How would the mighty General Gutsman fare encased in concrete?" He leaned back, now. "Now what kind of fellow brother would I be to let that happen to you?"
Guts leaned forward onto the steel desk, "What do you want?" He asked quietly.
"The Bonnes." The android replied simply. "Alive."
Guts cocked an eyebrow, "Not a chance. Those two are mine, change your price."
Quickman shook his head slowly, "You want them because your massive pride hurts. They ambushed and murdered my friend." He said angrily. "The Bonnes, alive." He repeated.
"I could just kill you." Guts informed him quietly.
Quickman was instantly across the room, pacing like a cornered animal, "Could you though, Sir?" He said quietly, before seemingly vanishing and reappearing by the viewport, staring out at the city. "Irony, General. All the impenetrable armor and battle genius you possess, and you are nothing against the clicks of a few keys." Again Quick blurred and stopped, standing by his office door, "The question that stands to be answered here is this." He leaned forward, "Can you get around that desk, before I get to my command center?"
Guts stood up, eying his subordinate. "The Bonnes." He said.
"Alive." Quickman finished. As Gutsman passed, Quick put a hand up, stopping him, "One more detail," He said grinning, but not turning to look at the General, "I also informed King Wily that you confirmed the killing of Tracy Bonne and her men."
The Phantom-Location unknown
Scott watched his sister pace angrily in front of the holovision. "Tron, this isn't that bad." He stated.
"'Isn't that bad'? Are you kidding me?" She responded. "Did you not notice our home crumbling as we turned tail, Scott?" She shouted. "We need to leave now, we've been fighting this battle long enough!"
Scott leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, looking up at her. "Tracy, do you realize how close we are to not only ending this war, but reshaping it afterward?" He asked. "Did you think they were just gonna let us waltz in and ask for the Atlas?"
Tracy shook her head slowly, "Scott, I know that it was my idea to bring you back into this mess, but please, let it go. We are more than lucky to even be alive."
Scott started to concede, as he always did when she got emotional, until he looked behind her. "No fucking way." He stated simply.
Tracy spun to the holovision, playing a live breaking news feed. Wily's machines were flying frantically, shooting down the underground media drones. But there were always new angles, and the message was clear, "The New Sentinel of Megatropolis, Megaman." The aerial view showed a large compound, smoking in the night, as leagues of people filed into rescue transports. Tracy's eyes grew wide as the final figure walked out, donning a blue nanosuit and carrying the severed head of one of Wily's top officers, Cutman.
Scott pointed at the display, "You're gonna let Alex be this country's hope?" He asked.
Tracy looked back to him, grinning, "Actually, yes. That's exactly what we want." She noticed that Scott was deciding whether to reply or not, so she made the choice for him. "Get off your ass, we need to get some firepower if we're gonna keep up with the Megaman." She said, heading over to the console.
The White House-Washington, D.C.
24 Hours Later
The pale room was silent, save for the hum of the lights that were beginning to eat at Curtis Wily's mental stability. Staring at Cutman's headless corpse wasn't giving him any answers, but he couldn't divert his eyes. He had put a lot of hard work into his machines, especially his officers, and seeing them in such a state made him feel a personal sting, like having a prized possession vandalized.
The silence was broken by the sound of opening doors. His General came striding in, somberly, unsure of what King Wily had summoned him for. "Sir," he began.
"Eleven years." Wily said, cutting him off.
Gutsman stood in the silence, awaiting more dialogue. He subtly looked Wily up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the Atlas receiver, just in case. "Eleven years, Sir?" He replied.
Wily continued to stare at the body, "Eleven years, Guts, and no officer casualties, even during the takeover." He said, turning to the General. "We've lost three in the past two years. I fear the end coming soon."
Guts could sense a slight defeat in Wily's eyes. His first thoughts were how he could use this to his advantage. "Sir, this 'Megam...'"
"Megaman!" Wily shouted, "Alex Light is dead!" He had seemingly snapped from despair to blind rage in a tenth of a second. "I want his fucking android doppelganger to join him in that state of being!" Wily's long grey hair hung in face, but his psychotic gaze was well seen by his subordinate. "I am giving you direct orders to bring me Preston's creation, DEAD! You do anything within your power, kill whoever you need, I want Megaman dead!"
"Understood, Sir." Guts replied, simply. Over the years Guts had seen King Wily become complacent, seemingly weak at times even, but this was a side he hadn't seen since the takeover. The android looked intent, but was smiling on the inside. However this would play out, it would be to his benefit. That was, of course, if the Bonnes could be dealt with quietly. Simple enough. He thought.
Union County Courthouse-Blairsville, GA
"So let me get this straight." Protoman began, standing at the open hatch looking miles below at the large courthouse. "Rush and I are going to jump from the ship, then he will become something like a flying snowboard for me to ride?"
The dog looked to Tron with the same amount of concern. She nodded assuredly, "Yes, guys. Trust me, it will work. I've done all the weight distributions to trajectory capabilities." Tracy could tell they were still worried, she put her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. They didn't have time for this, "Okay, look. To put it simply..."
Without warning, Tron shoved Scott into the open night sky. As his somewhat comedic yell trailed away, she looked over to Rush, kneeling down sarcastically, as if addressing a small puppy, "Go get him, buddy!" She said playfully.
Rush, shaking his head in an eerily human way, dove from The Phantom. Proto plummeted at high rates, cursing his sister at every chance. Rush came into view, using the BSTR collar to alter his form for transport. Scott magnetically pulled his feet to his companion's flattened back as the dog guided him to the clock tower, where defenses were absent. Protoman jumped from Rush's back sticking himself to the steel-plated structure, whistling the "Spiderman" theme as he crawled his way through the open skylight.
The interior of the structure had not been maintained in years, this much was apparent as Scott scaled down the dilapidated support beams. "I hate you." He said simply over comms.
"You lived." Tron replied dryly. "Make your way to the Main Courtroom. Security should be lax, Wily hasn't needed him since the end of the takeover."
"Then why exactly did you think this would be a prime target" Proto asked, dropping into maintenance mezzanine on the second floor.
"Cover is a necessity in assault." Tron replied. "It pays to be able to disappear from sight in the heat of battle."
Scott nodded, "So you're Sun Tzu now?" He asked.
"Just kill the fucking android, Scott." Tron replied, giving a sarcastic smirk. "You will just have to trust me on this."
Tron wasn't exaggerating, there was no security throughout the building. No cameras, no drones, nothing. Protoman strolled through the coat room, flipping his hilt, unamused. When he entered the courtroom his foe sat lazily behind the judge's bench.
Dustman was still clad in his white nanosuit with octagonal webbing interlaced. The long black cloak draped his shoulders, hanging to the floor. His grey gauntlets were slotted with circular openings on the top knuckles. His expression was a mystery due to the black gas-mask covering his face, with the slight orange glow of his goggles, slightly illuminating his dark eyes. Though he was aware of the intruder to his left, he didn't bother to look upon him. "Do you have any idea what use dust transmutation is after the war has been won?" He asked in a whisper-like, robotic voice.
Protoman extended his staff, approaching cautiously.
"I've been in this building, awaiting orders, for a decade now." Dust continued. "But what does the Megaman gain from killing me?" He asked aloud, turning to look at his attacker. His eyes flashed a tinge of confusion as he looked to Scott, "Interesting." Dust said, simply. "You're not him."
Scott neared closer, lowering his visor. "You've been waiting here, this whole time, to be killed?" He asked.
Dustman laughed, subtly. "Killed?" He asked. "You misunderstand, Mystery Man." The android rose from the bench, throwing the cloak over his back. "I've been waiting for a fool."
Before Scott could process what was happening, the android's hands rose, and the thick, grey dust was filling the room like a sandstorm. Vision was the first thing to go, as Protoman lowered his visor completely, sealing it tight. But that didn't save his fusion launchers which found themselves clogged and unable to function properly. The faint orange glow of Dustman's goggles emerged in haste, through the storm, before the impact knocked Scott sideways, shaking his sensors.
Like a ghost, Dustman was nowhere to be seen through the mess. The irony wasn't lost on Protoman. He stood slowly, taking up a defensive stance. If the android wanted to play "who's the better wraith", then Scott would oblige. He ejected his shield, scanning the room for the faint glow, which came once again, faster this time. Scott smiled beneath his visor, ready for to play.