"Thank you for your time. You may leave."
"Yes, sir," replied Diamond quietly.
The leader of the Gem Gang and his followers left, glancing back over their shoulders and at each other as they went. Master Mikhail stood up as well, his wide frame creaking with age as he exited the interrogation room. He walked slowly down the gray, threadbare corridor of Legion's intelligence chambers. Dim, fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, few windows present to light the area naturally. His footsteps echoed through the corridor. Mikhail considered the information that he'd just heard, coming to an unsettling conclusion.
The old Master's face was still scrunched up in concentration as he entered the recently renovated chamber at the top of Legion. The windows had finally been repaired after Albert's outburst, and an impromptu meeting was taking place. A table had been dragged from somewhere, the large piece of furniture currently seating all of the Mega Men and Master Thomas.
Thomas, his great red mane as well kept as ever, greeted Mikhail, "Good evening, Mikhail. What lies on your mind? Something from that interview?"
Mikhail shook himself from his concentration, replying, "Yes, actually. What an interesting bunch, that Gem gang. They're all a little eccentric, but blatantly honest. It seems that they first found this mercenary character of ours less than a day after the Ouroboros incident. I could not find out much else from them though... they were a bit protective of him." Mikhail scratched his chin, musing.
"That would seem a little too suspicious to be a mere coincidence. No one saw him before Ouroboros crashed. That, and there is no mention of him in any government database. Not ours, nor anyone else's. He does not even have a citizenship or Hunter ID card, if Thetis' statement is true." Aeolus looked at Thetis, who vigorously nodded in agreement.
"You don't think that he could be a replacement reploid like me, right? You know, when Albert dies, he wakes up?" Grey suggested nervously.
The others surveyed him gravely before Siarnaq added a rare comment, "INPUT; SITUATION IMPROBABLE. THE POSSIBILITY OF MULTIPLE D.A.N. REPLACEMENT MODEL REPLOIDS IS LOW."
"But it's still not an impossibility. It's probably something we should keep in mind," said Prometheus.
"What's D.A.N. stand for?" asked Atlas.
Pandora explained, "D.A.N. stands... for 'Doctor Albert Number'. It's what he labelled... his special creations. Such as us. Prometheus was D.A.N. 001, and... I'm D.A.N. 002."
"Hmph. I've never been gladder to be rid of that egotistical bastard," Atlas chuffed.
"Siranaq is right, though," Thomas stated, "this reploid, pardon my saying, just seems to be a little too aggressive to be a programmed replacement for Albert."
"I don't know about you, but I don't think Albert was very good at programming replacements," chortled Ashe before proceeding to poke Grey's cheek.
As Grey swatted her away, Aile and Vent added their opinions, "It's all very well and fine speculating what he is, but unless we can get closer to him, or at least keep a better eye on him, then we'll never know for sure," Vent began.
"The only thing we actually know for certain about this guy is that he's uncommonly strong, aggressive, and all around dangerous," finished Aile.
Thomas looked at Aeolus, "Speaking of dangerous, you recall that one race that you participated in not long ago? It seems that there was an extra energy signature detected in the line-up, presumably a pseudoroid one from the readings. Whatever the pseudoroid was, it didn't make it to the finish line. I suspect that our mystery man had something to do with it."
"So, in other words, heiss all too willing to kill. That is not the kind of character we want running around freely," Aeolus noted sagely.
"So we just make sure he can't run around! Surely Legion can arrest him for something?" Thetis piped up.
Prometheus objected, "Even if we arrested him, it might not be a good idea. Guys like that don't like being on short leashes or in captivity, and I've no doubt that he'd sooner turn around and gnaw yer' face off than submit quietly. Trust me on that one."
"But you do bring up a good point, Thetis. We need him here, where we can watch him properly. Sadly all we have to keep him here is speculation. There aren't any witnesses, and speculation rarely gets you an arrest warrant," Mikhail replied grumpily.
"Hey... if he were to fall ill to a contagious disease, Legion would be obligated to put him into quarantine whether or not they wanted to, wouldn't they...?"
The whole table turned to stare at Ashe with shock.
"Are you suggesting that we try to kill him!?" Pandora yelled defensively.
Ashe gestured in a placating manner, "No no no, of course not! It just has to be contagious, not deadly! I think I have a good idea of what we could do. Remember that virus that went around a year or so back? The one that caused all that mischief?"
They looked at her for a second before Atlas smacked her forehead.
"Remember it? Do I! I caught the bloody thing! It went around Hunter's camp, Legion, everywhere! I swear I'll never look at a ball of yarn the same way again. Bloody stuff gets everywhere!"
This reply brought forth a cacophony of exasperated replies from her fellow Mega Men.
"That damned genius of a prankster who made it never got found, did they?"
"Who knew that one virus could be so much of a pain?"
"My friends teased me with bells. BELLS I tell you! They tied 'em on and... It just drove me crazy!"
Siarnaq looked away uncomfortably. This was noticed by Aeolus, who rose an eyebrow.
The Shadow Mega Man weakly held up the end of his favourite frayed scarf, pointing at the ripped ends, "TREE."
Thomas actually cracked a smile, "Ah, so even Mega Men were affected by it, were they? What was it called again?"
"The I forget, uhm... give me a minute, I remember it being something fairly stupid," Ashe grumbled.
"Hey, this virus thing...whatever it is, who's going to infect him with it?" Grey asked meekly.
He wilted under the mischievous stares coming from his comrades.
Aeolus' eyes twinkled, "Well, seeing as it is your turn to watch him today..."
Grey gulped. This wasn't going too well...
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega was sore. Stiff and sore. Tired, stiff, and sore.
Did he mention sore?
Omega woke up to throbbing aches in his stomach, a murderous headache and an apparent inability to focus on anything. He tried to get up, but the moment he was on his feet he felt dizzy and fell straight back down.
Nonetheless, he got back up again.
His feet slid across the floor as the pungent odour of blood stifled his nostrils. There was no doubt about it; he'd live and recover, but that incident with the pseudoroid had cost him a lot of blood, and very nearly his life. The devilreploid scowled. How humiliating.
Omega vowed that he'd never let his weapons be anywhere other than by his side at all times. He tore off his clothes and threw the blood-stained articles into a corner. Then, stumbling around, he picked up all of his blood-stained pillows and tossed them into the corner as well. The few pillows which had remained miraculously clean were flung onto the ship to keep them out of harm's way. If it wasn't for his serious mood, he might have laughed as one bounced off the back of the ship and covered the face-like projection on the front.
But then, Omega wasn't going to laugh for a long time. He stared dolefully at the bloody pile in the corner before he went and grabbed his sword.
Well over half of his pillows were in that pile, but Omega no longer saw them as useful. In hindsight, he grabbed the pillows off the ship and threw them into the pile as well. He stalked over to it, lifted his sword with the point straight down, and stabbed the pile. It burst into flame, belching up acrid smoke and the foul scent of torched vital fluids. The God of Destruction flinched involuntarily. He was used to the smell of burning flesh and blood, but it was unnerving that it was his own.
Then he mentally slapped himself.
How pathetic he was becoming! For two hundred years he had trained and slept on a hard, cold, uneven ground, and it hadn't bothered him one bit. Then he'd got out and gotten those god-damned pillows! And look how soft he'd become!
One simple, pathetic pseudoroid had nearly nixed him. Absolutely pathetic!
He watched that dratted little pile of filth burn, burn, burn. It was all because he had forgotten his sword that the pseudoroid had been able to get close at all. How foolish of him to have let his guard drop so badly! There would be no more of that. Hah! Next time, just let it try to get close! He'd stab its rotten guts out!
The last little corner of the pile disappeared into ashes. Omega slowly stumbled over to a window, opening it up a crack to let the acrid smoke out.
How soft-minded he had been to forget his weapon. What kind of God of Destruction was he to let that happen? He was never going to be soft like that again.
The next step was to wash away all the blood. He couldn't let it be a reminder to him, or anyone else who decided to snoop in his hangar, that he was at all touchable. He would never be weak again, thus, he would never be harmed again, not like yesterday. Grabbing his bucket and filling it with cold water, he aimed his first shot at the pile of ashes, then watched the dusty particles slip down the drain. Not long after, the hangar was again clean. Omega sniffed. Well, not quite. There was still the scent of burning and blood. He breathed it in gratefully, no longer afraid of it because of its source. It reminded him of the good old times.
Still wobbly, Omega sat down in the middle of the floor, sitting in his traditional meditation pose. He still needed time to recover, and he needed to remind himself who he really was. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
He sat, stock still on the freezing floor, and closed his eyes. One deep breath of the air was all he needed to knock himself back into his world of memories.
There was blood.
There was flame.
There was genocide.
Screams, cries, collapse, torture, hatred, killing, destruction, death, rent, ruin, insanity, smoke, instinct, murder, rage, primal necessity and primal joy.
Omega smiled, ever so slightly.
Yes. This was who he was.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Grey stood outside the ominous hangar, his fist poised to knock on the door. Something on the wind smelt of death, and Grey had stopped, trying to pinpoint the source. He'd stood there for a full ten minutes, unable to figure out which direction the small came from as it was so faint. However, having been unable to trace it, he decided to nervously return to what he was supposed to be doing.
He knocked on the door.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega heard the knock, but was so deep into his thought process that he didn't realize what it was at first.
He was more concerned with a lovely little daydream he was having. Somehow he'd finally found Zero, and the fake was cringing at his feet begging for him to stop ripping him apart piece by piece. Of course Omega wasn't listening, instead enjoying the game of "how-many-ribs-can-you-slowly-remove-before-the-lungs-fall-out".
It was when one of the ribs made a knock knock knock sound instead of the usual prolonged, brittle snapping that he remembered that there was a reality he needed to return to.
With a regretful sigh he pulled himself back to his hangar. Standing up with only a small bit of wooziness, Omega was happy to note that his recovery was progressing well. Omega threw on an outfit then opened the door. The red mercenary wasmet with the sight of some short, gray-haired brat stood out in the-
Oh, wait. Wasn't he that mega man who'd snuck into his hangar a while back? Omega grimaced, his voice coming out as cold and harsh as grave dirt. "What do you want?"
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Grey heard the tone in his target's voice and knew, instinctively, that he only had a short time to pull the ploy off. "Oh h-hey, you're up!" Grey smiled, but the gesture faltered. Omega's cold, dead gaze dropped the smile off of Grey's face faster than a tonne of bricks to the face could have. Some part of his mind told him that, at least with a tonne of bricks, he could just have turned into Bifrost and thrown it off.
The guy's gaze? It was merciless.
He found himself wishing fervently for the bricks.
Swallowing his fear, Grey managed to continue, "Anyways, how are you? W-we heard about that attack the other day and wanted to check up to make sure you were okay..."
An ever so minute but frightening frown appeared on Omega's face, and an angry glint appeared in his eye. It was as if the mere suggestion of his being hurt was some mortal insult.
"I am... perfectly fine." He said dangerously.
Grey noticed the thin ice he was treading on, and how scary the guy had become since the incident. Something had definitely changed this guy's attitude, making him far more dangerous thahimand theother Mega Men had initially expected. It didn't help his nerves that Grey had just pinpointed the source of the earlier unnerving scent.
"Uhm, what's that smell?"
"Oh, that?" Omega glanced over his shoulder, "It's just my clothes. They were so blood-stained and torn that I thought I'd burn them."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Grey leaned forward, hesitantly offering a hand, "You look like you might need a doctor-"
At the mention of "doctor", Omega's mind flashed briefly to the name of the man who had been his former master, Doctor Weil. Omega slapped away Grey's hand viciously, a monstrous rage appearing suddenly on his face
"Fuck seeing a doctor! Do you dare suggest that I need something from worthless beings such as yourself?! I'm done with being a weak as you expect me to be! Now BEGONE!"
Grey ran for it. He'd done what he needed to do, and there was no way in hell he was staying longer than he needed to.
x-x-x-x-x
Omega snarled as the boy left. How insulting! That stupid boy had it coming, and he'd be the one there to deliver it. And to hell with Weil! To hell with a doctor, he was fine on his own! He absent-mindedly rubbed his arm where he's felt a slight sting as he'd knocked away the boy's hand. He must have hit a knuckle or something... oh well.
He returned to his position of meditation and immediately fell back into the scenario he'd left. Zero was again snivelling and weeping in pain at his feet. Eyes opened impossibly wide in terror as the tormentor returned, eager to work off his rage.
"Now then, where were we?"
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
As Grey rounded a corner in the alley he'd entered, he nearly ran right into Siarnaq.
"INQUIRY; MISSION SUCCESSFUL?"
"Yeah... I got him. He's infected." Grey lifted his palm to reveal a miniscule needle, now emptied of its contents. "Thanks for the suggestion, I couldn't have pulled it off without it."
"MISSION IMPERATIVE, PRECAUTIONARY MEASURES NECESSARY," droned the black reploid.
Grey smiled, "Yeah, really. Still, thanks a bunch. I don't think this could have been put off a day longer, something about him has changed. He's scary, Siarnaq. Really scary."
Siarnaq's expression didn't change. However, as Grey finally let himself begin to shiver in fright from the experience, he nodded sympathetically.
"UNIT GREY HAS COMPLETED PRIMARY MISSION. UNIT SIARNAQ WILL MAKE A STATUS REPORT AND PROCEED WITH SECONDARY MISSION. UNIT GREY IS UNECCESSARY FOR SECONDARY MISSION AND SHOULD RECUPERATE."
Grey sniffed, then smiled, "You know, for a guy that is supposed to be an emotionless robot, you're really nice. Thanks."
Siarnaq said nothing as they retreated to report their mission's success.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Thomas and Mikhail seated themselves, listening to the report from the two with interest. They took the necessary measures, let Grey go for the day, and put their plan's finishing touches in motion.
As Siarnaq left the decorated hall, Thomas leaned back with a sigh, "My, my, it's just one thing after another... Well, at least this matter with the mystery reploid will be easier to deal with now."
Mikhail frowned, "At least it's going smoothly. With all this international tension caused by Albert's actions, we can't afford to lose any more time on one reploid running around than we need to. At the same time, all the warning signs are there, so we can't ignore it. Huh, it's hard enough to get Legion's credibility back as it is. If we let something big slip out right under our noses..."
He let it hang. Thomas nodded in agreement. They wouldn't have a leg to stand on if he turned out to be another Albert clone, or something else. He couldn't think of anything worse, but there were probably more possibilities than he was willing to think of at the moment.
The shorter of the two governors picked up a schedule lying inconspicuously at his side, reading from it. "One fifteen: receive report from Mega Men concerning virus. One thirty: finalize preparations for Operation Cat-in-the-Bag. Honestly, I have no idea why they need to give it a name like that. Hmm, we got that all finished a bit early actually. Should we move on to the next meeting, or take a short break?"
Thomas shook his head, "We'll be able to have a break after five. Let's get this over with, it might take longer than we've scheduled. After all, we have no idea who the next person is. What was the title again?"
"Let me read. One forty five: meet the ambassador of Neo Arcadia. What the hell is a Neo Arcadia?"
"Language, Mikhail," smiled Thomas familiarly, "we might not give a good impression if we start swearing like sailors. Perhaps it is a budding nation or some separatists? With all this national turmoil, it's not a bad time for creating a new country, I suppose. Hmm, I thought you'd have known about Neo Arcadia? It wasn't me who put that on the schedule."
"Wasn't me, either. Maybe the secretary would know?"
"We ought to contact her anyways to see if the ambassador is here."
Thomas reached over and tapped a code into the touch screen at his side. The face of the secretary appeared."
"Yes, sir?"
"Have you any idea what Neo Arcadia is?"
"Uhm, pardon?"
"Neo Arcadia."
"Oh, no. I thought you did?"
"No, I don't. That's why I was asking you. You were the one who put that meeting into our schedule, correct?"
The secretary nudged her glasses, "Um, no sir, it was there when I looked on the computer this morning. I thought you had inserted it..."
Thomas and Mikhail looked to each other cautiously. "I think I'd better call up one of the Mega Men," Mikhail stated.
"Call one of the Guardians. They can come in here pretending to have business if they need to."
"Good idea."
Thomas stared into space, a worried frown pasted on his features. His attention was suddenly taken by the vid-screen. The secretary was apparently greeting someone. She turned to the communicator shortly afterwards. "Sir, the ambassador is here."
"Very well, send them in."
Five minutes later, the elevator door across the room opened, revealing a striking figure. A long, dark blue robe with lighter blue sleeves adorned the figure's body, hiding a presumably lean frame underneath. Light blue, gold and red details decorated the robe in simple but regal patterns, especially around the sleeves and chest. However, the head of the figure contradicted enormously with the peaceful demeanour the rest of the man's outfit attempted to portray.
Thomas had seen the blue helmet of Model X's armour only once, but the resemblance was uncannily similar. A deep red gem decorated the center of the helmet, and lighter blue strips framed the face and lead from the gem to the back of the helmet. As with his robe, the helmet was simple but elegant. What really unnerved Thomas were the ruthless, calculating red eyes. Without even looking, he knew Mikhail already had his finger on the hidden alarm button on his throne.
Blue metal boots clanged slightly as the man made his way across the floor. Stopping a few metres in front of the masters, the man gave a slight bow.
"I am honoured to be here. Thank you for meeting me."
The cold and logical voice echoed around the silent chamber. Thomas readjusted his position.
"What is your purpose in coming here?" he inquired.
The figure straightened, "I wish to form a tentative alliance with Legion, if you will. I am searching for something."
Mikhail shrewdly observed the stranger, "Information? Interesting. Speaking of information, may we inquire as to where you have come from? My schedule says you are an ambassador of a place called 'Neo Arcadia', though I can't say I've really heard of it."
Not one flicker of emotion crossed the man's face as he answered, "I am sorry, but I cannot say. I assure you that I have good reasons, but unfortunately I cannot answer many, if any at all, of the questions you are considering asking me. Just consider Neo Arcadia a group of well meaning individuals, if you must. Something like the Guardians. I would ask you though, have there been any large-scale attacks recently?"
Mikhial shrugged. "Well, Thomas, I don't know about you, but if he's not willing to give out much information, then neither am I."
"I think this warrants further discussion from both sides," Thomas answered. He turned to the ambassador, "There is plenty of information available on Legion's public servers. Feel free to search those since they are open to the public. And no, there haven't been and large-scale attacks that I know of, just a few minor scuffles between nations. If you'd like to know more, use the Legion databases. If you want to know more than what is on there, then you will have to come back so that we may discuss the matter more."
"I appreciate it," the man said, turning, "I will be going now. Thank you for your time."
He walked towards the elevator. Thomas saw a design on the back of the robe that he'd been unable to see before, six stylized wings connecting to an inner red orb.
Just as he was about to step onto the elevator, the man turned partially, "Masters, I realize that it was quite rude of me to expect information without giving much of my own. I apologize, but my situation demands digression. Still... It wouldn't hurt to at least leave you with a name. You may call me Seraph if you wish."
With that, Seraph stepped into the elevator as the door opened.
Vent dodged around Seraph, giving him an odd look. As the door closed, he looked at the Masters.
"What the heck was his problem?"
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega was blissfully deconstructing a still-squirming Zero for the umpteenth time when he first realized that something was wrong.
Zero's blood was everywhere, and the butchered, screaming form of his barely-alive victim suddenly became uninteresting for a second as his thoughts strayed to something more interesting.
Hmph. What I wouldn't do for a ball right now...
Omega blinked in his imaginary world. Zero even stopped screaming for a second as Omega did a double take.
Wait... a ball? Why the hell would I want a ball!? Yarn is better-
Oi, what the hell!?
Omega shot straight up. His eyes flared wide open in shock. All his previous thoughts of keeping his cool and being stronger went straight down the drain just like the ashes had. Omega glanced around the hangar. Something was wrong and he knew it. But what was it!? He perked his ears, a little farther than usual, and he didn't even notice that they weren't where they were supposed to be. He stalked around the hangar, convinced that someone was after him, and... strangely enough, it was kinda fun!
Wait. FUN?! What. The. Hell.
Then he had an itch. It was right above his backside, just at the base of his spine. Omega reached down absently to itch it, but ended up grabbing something.
His tail twitched in response.
Oh. Lord. Omega slowly turned his head to look down at the tail clutched in his hands. It was the same colour as his hair, a silvery-white. It was long-haired, fluffy, and soft to the touch. His head snapped instantaneously to look at the ship, where the surface zealously polished by Iggy clearly revealed the full extent of the change.
"I have... cat ears...?"
Indeed he did. They too were white and long-haired. They trembled, then stood straight up. A cat person. Omega suddenly came to the realization that, somehow, he now looked like a cat person.
Omega, the God of Destruction, was incapable of panic. He was, however, more than capable of freaking-the-fuck-out.
The inhuman scream froze the spines of everyone in Hunters camp.
"EEEEEOOOOOOOOOOWWWRRR!"
Incapable of forming a coherent sentence in his outrage, Omega merely screamed in a manner that was, ironically, very cat-like. He started jumping and dashing around the hangar, bouncing off of the walls, floor and various parts of the ship, his new patches of fur stood straight on end.
What the hell was this!?
What was he going to do?
I wanna play!
Grey! It must have been Grey's fault! That's the only person who had been here today!
I really wanna play!
That little bastard was going to die! Die die die! Right now!
Where the heck is a ball, I wanna play!
I'll play with Grey's goddamn GUTS when I find him!!
Omega dug his newly formed claws into the ground, making an abrupt 180 degree turn and kicking up dust as he faced the front of the hangar.
That little shit was going to die for this!
Omega burst out the front of the hangar with all intentions on finding and viciously murdering the grey-haired boy into oblivion.
A ceratanium net stopped his progress.
"You are now under the protective confinement of Legion, under page four hundred fifteen of the lawful confinement act pertaining to contagious diseases and other outbreaks!"
Crowds of hunters who had come to watch what the Legion soldiers were doing backed off with gasps of astonishment at seeing Omega, who was currently struggling blindly against the nets with his face to the ground. He bolted in one direction, dragging the net and a surprised soldier for a metre before they regained their footing.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. This confinement is for the protection of both you and other citizens and will be negated upon the discretion of a ruling administrator-"
Omega gave a powerful lurch forward, attempting an escape and howling ferally. The Legionnaires were nearly thrown off, but hung on grimly. The crowds murmered and shuffled. Behind them a single woman in a red outfit, Ruby, struggled to get a view of the proceedings, her face worried.
"-efforts to resist will be punishable by law and acted upon accordingly in a court of-"
As his rights were read to him and a bag shoved over his head to prevent him seeing his captors, Omega gave another shrill yell, trying to jolt the net away from his captors grips several more times. He didn't stop roaring in rage even as they dragged his struggling body to the Legion transporter, kicking and screaming.