Ansem The Wise, King of Radiant Garden, materialized in the world of data known as the Grid.
It was a long overdue visit; such a thought brought shame to his Heart.
He was accompanied by the woman known as Kana - Even's...for lack of a better term, creation. Certainly, he would not denigrate her purely for her origins: it simply was.
"Welcome, Users," came a female voice, pleasant and formal. Ansem turned to find an unfamiliar person standing before himself and Kana. It was a tall, older woman, clad in red robes. She possessed grey hair, with glowing orange lines pulsing through it. She gave a low and reverent bow, her eyes fixated to them as she spread her arms in curtsey.
"Ah, such displays are hardly necessary," Ansem spoke, raising a hand. "Please...Miss...?"
"You can call me Deb," the woman replied, straightening and clasping her hands at her waist formally. "You can call me whatever you like, User. After all, you are my User."
Ansem hesitated, an eyebrow raising. Then he nodded in realization. "Ahhh...I see now. Very well, then - it is a pleasure, Deb."
"The pleasure is entirely mine - all of ours, here on the Grid."
Ansem cleared his throat, speaking quickly. "Tron - I've had little success in helping him return to normal from the outside...from the 'User World', as you might put it. Thus, I've come here now in hopes of aiding him in person. I hope to have better luck, taking a more personal approach to the problem."
"I have been doing my best for him as well - just as you programmed me to," Deb responded. She hesitated. Her hands clasped tighter at her waist, her head bowing slightly. "But Tron is not like the rest of us - he has never been. His core code is complex, and he has always had a certain...light to him that the rest of us find unfathomable. And ever since that dreadful Commander Sark altered his code so completely and turned him into Rinzler...it is a mess. One I am not sure I can repair on my own."
"Perhaps together we will find success, then," Ansem said kindly.
"I hope that is so. Follow me, please."
"You can go and do that - I'm here for fun," Kana spoke.
Deb looked at her, puzzled. "Fun?"
"After her last foray into this world, she finds herself wishing to experience the Game Grid again - though, this time, it would not be a death match in the name of the MCP," Ansem stepped in to explain.
"A User on the Game Grid? The same User who fought for us all, liberating us from the rule of the Master Control Program?" Deb smiled at Kana. "It would be our honor. We have had celebratory games running every three millicycles since."
"So what's with you?" Kana asked, smiling back.
Deb cocked her head. "I do not understand."
"I believe she means to ask you about your function within the Grid," Ansem said delicately.
"Oh. Of course," said Deb. "I am a Debugging Program with monitoring subroutines. I work in the quarantine zone for Antiva; I am the only Program allowed to enter. Users, of course, are free to go wherever they wish. We have found that many of the restrictions of the Grid - if not all - do not apply to Users."
"I have no idea what any of that means," Kana admitted freely. "Just tell me how to get to the fun area of this world again."
Deb smiled again, raising a hand that swirled with red holographic numbers. A small red circle appeared in front of her, and she gave it a delicate tap. The circle transformed into an orb, which flew forward to hover before Kana. "Simply follow the guidance marker; it will lead you to the Game Grid."
Kana eyed the orb, then reached out to swipe at it with a hand. It flickered in and out of existence, then suddenly zoomed off down the walkway; Kana raced after it instantly.
Ansem chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Ah, the follies of the youthful...
"As for you," Deb spoke again, looking to Ansem. "Come: I will take you to Tron. But I must warn you, it will be a long journey to the quarantine zone."
"Naturally - as the name implies," Ansem jested, giving the woman a nod. "We shall be off, then; I will follow your lead, Madame."
Deb nodded back. "Excellent. I will summon a transport, then."
The journey (undertaken by way of a Solar Sailer vessel) was indeed a rather long one: it took approximately three hours.
They had long-since left behind towers and walkways and strange cityscapes, instead entering blocky, uneven terrain that stretched on endless horizon. There were canyons and chasms, here and there, but for the most part it was a barren land.
Except, of course, for the great crater, at the bottom of which lay a massive, rectangular building with several cylindrical towers sticking up out of it. It was a dark blue, yet it had highlights of neon purple that ran across it, in a design or pattern Ansem couldn't fathom. Yet he marveled at it all the same, wishing he could.
Alas, he was here for a reason - the following of his conscience. And he could not allow himself to get distracted so. Not when there was work to do.
The Solar Sailer followed a winding energy line down into the crater, coming to a halt in front of the structure - which, up close now, only seemed that much more impressive and large.
Deb took the lead, and Ansem trailed along behind her dutifully.
They entered the structure, beginning to navigate corridors that were similar in design to the outside - the walls, floor, and ceiling pulsed with purple lines of light.
Deb led Ansem through a large, hexagonal door, and they immediately descended down a steep ramp. They emerged into a large chamber of cool blue, with rounded corners and edges. Spaced out across the floor were several circular pads. On each of them, there were glowing green rings within rings - concentric circles. The woman strode over to one of these pads, then turned to Ansem expectantly. "Stand here, please."
Ansem obeyed her, then watched as she stepped in close to join him. It was a startlingly uncomfortable closeness - yet Deb seemed unperturbed. Nor did she seem to notice his discomfort. So he set it aside, simply turning his gaze away from her, waiting.
A moment passed, and then the rings beneath them glowed, and the platform began to descend beneath the very floor itself. It fell slowly, entering into what Ansem could only describe as a bottomless void.
An endless darkness - with only one exception: a short walkway, leading to a transparent, barren room, within which...sat Tron. Or, rather, Rinzler, at present.
"This...is where Tron has been? Here, like this?" Ansem spoke, finding his voice rather quiet.
"We do not like it any more than you do, User," Deb started quickly, her expression contrite. "Tron was - is - our greatest hero. He led us all to freedom, he fought when everyone else gave up. He was the greatest of us all. But right now, that greatness makes him our greatest enemy. A great danger to the entire system. And, as I understand it, he even proved to be a threat to the User World. This is necessary."
"Perhaps so," Ansem sighed, acquiescing to the logic.
The pair strode down the walkway, coming to a stop before the door.
Ansem gazed through its transparent material, eyeing Tron closely. He drew breath, and placed his hands behind his back. "Tron?"
There was no reaction from Tron.
"You can hear me, can't you?" Ansem tried again. He glanced at Deb, beside him.
"He can," she confirmed simply. "He only chooses to be unresponsive - we do not believe it to be the symptom of an error in his program."
"Ah...good," Ansem said softly. "Tron: I know you can hear me, and I know that you remember me, even still. I would like to believe we were once friends...no, that we still remain so. And I would also like to believe that you are still the good man I once knew. Strong, brave, possessed of a spark in your Heart-"
"You speak of me as if I'm a User," came the sudden, cold tones.
Ansem watched as Tron slowly raised his head, the reflective visor showing Ansem his own worried expression.
"You may as well be," Ansem replied evenly. He looked to Deb. "All of you may as well be thus - merely a different kind! Of another world, of another form, yes - yet what world is otherwise? In the User World, we are many and varied, and yet at our core we are all the same: possessed of Heart! Strength, courage, emotion! Determination, joy and love! And the Tron that I know understood this, and cherished these feelings inside his own Heart, even if he did not understand precisely from whence they came! The Tron I know, and the Tron that all of your people know, is a man who fought for good and truth, for liberation, for a free system! A man of conscience! That man himself broke the system, time and again, achieving the impossible! And it is that man who will do so again! Here! NOW! You will fight this corruption within you, Tron, with all your Heart-"
Tron rose from the floor and lunged forward in an instant, his armored fists slamming against the transparent door with a great thud. Purple light rippled out from the points of impact, spreading across the walls like waves until they dissipated. "Spare me your false rhetoric, User!" he hissed out, with a growling undertone. "This entire world and every Program within it is as false as your words: we are only copies of the true Grid, and our true selves. You create us, you enslave us, and now you play games with our minds - trying to muddle our programming. But I will never forget mine. I will break free of this prison, I will find a way to return to the User World again, and next time I will succeed in bringing about your Derezolution."
"Tron..." Ansem began, removing his hand from behind himself, and raising it out to the man in front of him.
"End of line." Tron turned away from Ansem and sat down in the middle of the cell, with his back to Ansem.
"No," Ansem refuted harshly, lowering his arm. He clenched a fist at his side. "I will not be giving up on you, Tron - and nor will I allow you to give up on yourself! It is indisputable that your true self is still in there, a bright and true core of light, even within this dark shell that has taken you over. And I will reach it again inside of you, even if I must risk my own life to do so! For you are correct in one thing: as User and Creator of this world, this world and all of its inhabitants fall under my purview. I will see you returned to normal, and I will see this entire Grid into a shining future! End of line!"
Ansem whirled away, striding off down the walkway.
Indeed, a new goal and a purpose had come to his mind - a new responsibility that he owed to this...other world he oversaw. Yes, a world, not merely a system to help run his "real" city of Radiant Garden. And this world needed caring for, every bit as much as Radiant Garden did. Especially because this world was wholly dependent upon Radiant Garden's systems. If one were to truly fall, or be destroyed - not simply go into a low powered sleep state, allowing for continuous function - the other would go with it.
Among quite a number of other things he now had in mind, he needed to ensure that could not happen.
What he needed...was more data.