Note: At the time of writing this, I'm having a bit of an art crisis, as I'm not feeling satisfied with anything I do. I know it's normal, but if things feel like they've been slow, that's why.

But things will be continuing and these last few chapters do ultimately impact the story and series.

While I like what I've written, I still see numerous things I think could be done better, but I'm saving any rewrites for later and in a different format. Only I'm still trying to see how I would want things to look if I went down certain paths regarding aesthetics.

Blues is one of my favorite Classic characters, although let's say that circumstances happened that sort of made me relate to his less desirable traits. I can relate in a way and I sort of hate it. But it's an outlet for that type of angst.

My recent diagnosis has put me in a direction I'm hoping will yield some results, but this story can cover painful topics for me, I know it's good to address and subsequently gain power over them.

The Seeds of Apathy

"It's not smart to let them live, they can now provide their services to Light's machine."

The ethereal, almost unearthly voice alerted their only company in the sizable yet dark and isolated chamber, yet, should a neutral observer lay their eyes on the scene taking place, they would've seen only one figure residing in the room, seemingly speaking with no one. And yet, should that same observer listen, they would come to realize that there was more than one voice speaking.

"How so? I don't understand this sudden concern now." the sole visible individual present questioned, the one addressing him unable to be seen.

At least, by anyone who wasn't himself.

"Their parent was your main means of getting this far, yet if you're allowing her to live under some misguided sense of fondness, it is strongly advised you not indulge in such things."

Sigma's blue eyes narrowed, ivory digits gripping the sides of his seat as he did his best to restrain himself. Both for presentation's sake and because he learned long ago that striking out at this…companion of his would ultimately result in nothing. "I hold no such things for Sho Fujiwara, let alone his spawn," the Reploid sternly spoke. "Do not get it misconstrued."

"Then why is the other human still living?"

"Cain is not Fujiwara," Sigma answered. "He's no threat, nor can he potentially sabotage anything."

"Don't underestimate even those that are technically worthless."

"And how could he potentially be a threat?"

"He may not be, but he will draw those that are. The same applies to the child. They all must be terminated."

Sigma let his eyelids shut, his processor reciting the words just spoken to him. Although, had anyone else been here, they wouldn't have heard the voice. A voice that was both unfamiliar and one he had never heard, yet the very sound and cadence ultimately struck a sensation of deja vu every time it made itself known. As if he knew who the voice belonged to, yet the individual that came to mind immediately rendered his theory complete nonsense.

For there was no possible way that it could be who the Reploid thought it was, as that person, that human, had been deceased for the last century.

"And why have you come to this conclusion now?" Sigma questioned his enigmatic companion. "Has the lack of progress on the Hunters' end not indicated that everything is taken care of?"

"Oh, there's been nothing but," the voice answered, a shape, albeit somewhat difficult to visualize, began to take shape steadily. "This false belief that they shall see your way of thinking has already done you more harm than good."

"And how is that?"

The source of the voice, the unnamed, unnatural substance, energy, whatever it was, Sigma was still unsure, began to take form. While still not entirely distinguishable and somewhat difficult to perceive, the shifting, ever-changing energy or force took on a more humanoid shape, a more familiar shape.

And, with that, gained a familiar voice.

"Because there's more than just Light's current children that may give you trouble."

"Abandoned" Weapons Plant

"And this information details what, exactly?" Roll inquired, listening intently and internally recording everything her contact relayed openly. Still, even with this supposed transparency, she couldn't help but feel her current "partner" wasn't revealing all he could have to her.

"So far, nothing good for anyone here," Ray B. answered as he fingered the damaged and worn-down keys of the control board, scrolling through screen after screen detailing a variety of schematics and building plans. All for either weaponized mechaniloids or tools of war to be latched onto one's body, should they see fit. Either way, what lay before him in this computer was information on the most effective way to fashion a machine to be an instrument of death. And who they were meant to kill would surely stand no chance against any of them. "Meaning the sooner you leave this island and get to Arcadia, the better."

Roll agreed with that, yet she couldn't help but let her stance on the entire situation known. "Unfortunately, it isn't that simple."

"It is," Ray B. answered. "At least, it should be. Those in power have just made what should be simply ironically impossible in the given circumstances," he then paused. "After all, if it wasn't for Sigma's warning, there would be nothing stopping you from trying to escape, right?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Roll confessed. "There's still be no word on what Sigma's answer to the 'Lighthouse Incident' will be, yet…"

"Yet what?" Ray B. questioned, all the while continuing to scan and visually memorize everything that came upon on the cracked monitor. Despite the jumpstart Elec Spark gave the computer, it couldn't fix everything. Perhaps he should've also taken the offer of some of the others to go with him before Abel City was cut off from the mainland.

"Yet…I've heard some rumors that Arcadia HAS indeed seen the signal," Roll answered. "There's been no confirmation as of yet, but given that things have been quiet on the Maverick's end, then…" she paused. Ray B. couldn't see it, yet her teeth began to grind on her synthetic lip. "Then perhaps…"

"What?" Ray B. inquired. "Then perhaps Sigma was bluffing?"

Roll was somewhat taken aback by her contact's directness, yet, nonetheless, responded. "I guess you could say that," she admitted. "I suppose I'm being optimistic, but threats such as this aren't anything new."

"From Wily and those that your brother faced, no," Ray B. answered. "And, quite frankly, the former was rather good at being a blowhard, so I don't fault you for your logic," he told her. "The only problem is that Wily is not Sigma," he said. "At least, not enough."

"What do you mean?" Roll asked.

"Sorry, but for the time being, I think these notes take precedence," Ray B. told her with a sigh. "These…none of these look good."

"Ah, right. I understand," Roll assured him. "Is there any way that you could perhaps send the information to HQ from where you are?"

"Unfortunately, I don't think this computer is capable of that in the state it's in," her contact answered. "All things considered, it's a miracle that I managed to get it functioning at all."

"Right," Roll agreed. "Still, how would we go about recording this information and bringing it back here?"

Ray B. raised a brow from underneath his shades. "You don't intend for me to use my circuitry to record all of this?" he inquired.

"Well, you technically could, yet, well, if I may be so bold," Roll said, albeit with slight hesitancy. "You seem to be a little…fragile, at the moment, so…"

The coat-wearing android chuckled, adjusting his thick spectacles. "That's one of the nicer things I've been called," he told her. "Still, true as it may be, all I need is some paperclips and glue. As long as I've got something that can move, I think I'll be fine," he told her. "Still…" he paused. "Considering everything going on, you're probably right in wanting to record all of this," he admitted, catching Roll by surprise. "Although, just what can we use to…?"

His optics scanned the control panel until he came across a series of flat, thin, rectangularly-shaped discs, a small bundle huddled together in the corner against the wall. Ray B. examined one of the devices, taking the firm yet fragile object in his hold and taking in its features. It was certainly an older method of recording and transferring data, but it would suffice.

Inserting the disc into the computer, the heavily clothed figure typed in the necessary commands to begin the process of copying the records contained in the machine's database. "I can't guarantee that this will be quick," Ray B. told Roll. "Apologies in advance."

"It's all right," Roll answered. "It's rather handy that you've decided to show up," she told him. "While I wouldn't dare dismiss the efforts of those here, the Hunters' numbers…" she stopped for a moment. "...aren't exactly what they used to be," a sigh escaped her. "I still can't believe that so many…fell in with Sigma and his cause."

Ray B. let his concealed eyes shut, despite the fact his eyesight was failing him. His optics would have to undergo adjustments again, yet even he was unsure of just how many more they could go through before ceasing to function entirely. "Truth be told," he said. "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner, especially with one such as Fujiwara at the helm of Reploid construction," he answered. "Even if he was in no way perfect, Dr. Light at least understood the importance of the relationship between man and machine," he then sighed. "If anyone knew that, it was him."

"...it would perhaps make a difference if he was still here," Roll added. "Heh. Even at two hundred or so, he would know what to do," she then paused. "Still, even Rock could perhaps do something. No matter what or how many bots Wily made, he always somehow found a way to bring everyone together when things counted."

Not that he was questioning her faith, yet the blonde Reploid's contact couldn't help but wonder something. "Do you not hold faith in your younger sibling?"

"No, it's not that," Roll confessed. "Although…well, I'll admit that X isn't exactly as…decisive as Rock was."

"...no, he's not," Ray B. agreed. "Indeed, while he possesses several of Mega Man's qualities, X and Rock are two entirely different beings," he said. "And compared to Rock, X struggles in several areas, yet perhaps such a perspective may be what is needed."

Ray B. paused for a moment, the contents of the records and data steadily being duplicated and transferred to the square disc inserted into the computer.

"...compassion."

"Blues!"

The suddenness of the woman's voice immediately drew his attention away from the other robot and the shattered image of Light on the wall, a tan-skinned woman with dark hair (somewhat with a violet sheen to it in the light) dressed in a blue robe emerging from around the corner.

Blues, Break Man, Dr. Light's first "begotten" son, drew back away from the couch and subsequently Tempo, Dr. LaLinde continued now that she had gotten his focus off of her daughter.

"If what I've heard is true, and Thomas is no liar, then I have a question for you," she said, going on whether the robotic "boy" had any input to give or not. "In all of that time between then and now, did it never possibly occur to you that maybe, just maybe, your father built a brother and sister for you?"

Blues' face was hidden away from view, indistinguishable beneath the black visor of his helmet, yet the Filipina woman's words hit him with a prospect he had indeed not considered. Or rather, he had, yet…but…what he saw…

"And, even more, that he made them so that, when you finally came home, as he always hoped you would, you would never be lonely again?"

She looked at him firmly, trying to assert dominance over the situation despite knowing the smaller machine would beat her in physical strength if it came to it. Silence fell in between the three, Blues looking down at his fist as it curled in increasing frustration.

He shifted his position, yet upon taking a small step to the right, he heard something crack.

Turning his attention to the floor, the runaway DLN saw that the portrait presenting the smiling, happy Tempo before her procedure had gotten underneath his boot, his weight splintering the glass and breaking the frame, the damage he realized was far greater than anticipated upon removing his foot and seeing it first-hand.

Then he heard something shift.

Turning his head, Blues' hidden eyes made contact with the other robots, of whom now gazed at him with green optics full of caution and uncertainty, as well as a familiar element that brought the raging fires in his unstable core to a halt, a deathly cold chill and terrible realization coming to him in that minute when he saw Tempo.

Her face.

Still subdued and perhaps being "held back" in a sense, yet it couldn't entirely be hidden, something she picked up on and this appeared to make her anxiety in his presence grow. When he saw the beginnings of moisture develop in the corner of her tear ducts, a stray droplet managed to escape and trail in a thin line down her cheek.

What had he just done?

He…he didn't mean to. Yes, he was mad, and what she was saying was adding to his already growing frustration, but…he didn't intend for this.

He didn't intend for her to look at him like this. As if he was a monster.

Break Man extended a hand to Tempo, yet this action in itself was too much for the other robot, the DLN completely struck back and was shocked when he saw her draw away, holding one arm in front of her to shield herself from him.

He was rendered speechless, but he wanted to talk. Immediately, he wanted to try and fix this. True, he couldn't say that the problem in itself would be solved by just repairing the wall and replacing the portraits, but maybe it would get her to stop looking at him like that.

Dr. Light's shattered picture reflected in his visor, staring at him with that warm smile. A smile he still possessed after everything. The same, however, couldn't be said for Tempo.

And, indeed, this was proven in the next moments when Blues felt and saw the brunette's hand harshly slap his own away, brows furrowing as she continued to lock eyes with him. Then, just as the DLN was about to say something to maybe try and alleviate the situation, he found himself met with a high-powered, whirling drill being thrust in his face, forcing him to step back.

Tempo no longer stood before him, the machine fashioned after a human girl gone, and an armored Robot Master taking her place. And despite the more "buffed-up" look her second skin provided, Blues could still see her lightly trembling in his presence.

Asimov, he didn't mean…

"Leave."

The red and gray robot's core was struck. "B-But…" he stammered, yet she gave him no grace or mercy.

For she was now convinced he would give none.

"I let you in because you wanted to talk," Quake Woman said, voice even and relatively smooth, yet there was no sense of the small degree of warmth or attempted understanding from before. "You clearly can't conduct yourself like a stable individual I would possibly consider you a dangerous psychopath," she added, green eyes shifting to the now sizable hole in the wall.

A hole that she now believed could've been her. After all, Blues nearly killed his sister, so why shouldn't he do the same with her? Someone who was already nothing to him anyway?

"So, I'm now telling you to leave." She finished, voice completely lacking in the rage the other robot expressed openly before. "Because I don't trust you to not go any further."

Blues parted his lips. "I…I'm sorry I-" he began, yet she wasn't interested.

"Leave." She ordered, cutting him off.

"I didn't mean to "

"LEAVE."

"Please, Tempo, I-"

"LEAVE!" The pigtailed digger's shout reverberated throughout the whole house, although the light shake and sniff indicated that it was taking all she had to keep herself even slightly composed. "…or I will MAKE you leave myself."

Blues said nothing, realizing that he had quite literally made yet another mess of things. Only, he hadn't intended for things to turn out like this. On the contrary, he just now began to realize just what an error he had made, Quake Woman's eyes still fighting back angered, frightened tears cementing his utter failure further.

Her next words served as the killing blow.

"…don't come back, either," she hissed. "Just…just go away! Disappear! I….I don't want to see you again!" a few stray tears escaped. "I never want to see you again."

Silence fell over everything once again, Dr. LaLinde shared in Blues' collective shock at her daughter's words, as well as the reaction to them given by Light's eldest son.

Without another word, Blues, Break Man, activated his transportation module and made himself scarce, vanishing from sight in a bright, red glow that rose to the ceiling and then dissipated without a trace, the shattered portraits still leaving shards of broken glass littering the floor.

?

"What?"

"Yes, shocking as it is, it's true," Sigma's enigmatic companion alerted him. "It's always seemingly been an inherent trait that Light's creations are surprisingly difficult to terminate," they said. "It's almost as if they're the ones that truly decide when they have completed their purpose in the world."

"Then how is this one still here?" Sigma questioned.

The shape, shifting in and out but keeping the appearance of an aging human, hummed in response. "The same way Light's most current creation functions. How all those that are called 'Reploids' continue to live," its "face" then altered itself, the surface seemingly "melting" into the visage of a singular, violet eye, yet clearly not organic or possibly even of Earth, the optic consuming the digital "human's" face. "Although, despite using the same blueprints, not even Fujiwara understood what truly made the beings he helped create were," then there was a pause. "No organic creature could truly understand life outside of itself."

"Then what is this method?" Sigma continued, becoming a little tired of the shape's vagueness.

"One the humans could never hope to achieve, let alone replicate," it responded. "For, unlike the mechanical, they are only given one body to use."

"Is this not the same for us?" the former Hunter Leader inquired.

"Only due to the laws imposed on you by those made of flesh. Without them, you are practically immortal."

True, while he and Fujiwara had collaborated on the most important elements of "Operation Independence Day" and the subsequent plans regarding what was to be built to assist with that, both before, during, and now, after, there was still much that the human didn't convey to the Reploid. Indeed, despite the years between them, as well as the hand the Japanese scientist had in his own creation, it didn't take long for Sigma to realize that such relations meant nothing to Fujiwara.

It meant nothing…unlike to Cain. He had little to no knowledge of robotics at all, his field of study, ironically enough, in the ancient world as opposed to Fujiwara's drive to take hold of the future. Still, even if they were no longer so, Cain treated his samples with a reverence that he didn't believe a human would be capable of displaying to specimens that had their life taken from them long ago. There were no more than literal fossils, both the prehistoric flora and fauna the old man discovered on his various expeditions. While a majority of them were taken in for study and examination, the samples that were deemed either too fragmented or small, he always took them to his home and framed them somewhere in his abode, their surfaces relatively polished and each sample was given its frame and backdrop. At first, Sigma himself didn't entirely understand the elderly human's supposed need to do this, yet now found that the individual attention each received was what went through his mind when he sent his men to Cain's home.

…and, even if he didn't entirely understand it still, perhaps it was one of the few details that swayed his decision to keep the older man alive as opposed to the one who would logically be considered of more value.

"...he will be a determent for you later on," the strange energy told him. "As will the other human's spawn," a pause. "And that's not even accounting for the trouble that the first son will bring you."

"I shall handle Cain," Sigma told his company firmly. "As for Fujiwara's child, she's of no consequence," he continued. "The last of those three, however, will need to be taken care of."

The energy shifted, finally getting its partner to see reason. "And just how do you plan to do that?" Sigma's hesitancy with Cain and indifference to the child would still need to be addressed later. But, for now, it would go along.

At least until it got back to where it belonged.

Still, the energy could feel its host pondering its suggestions, going over various options over what to do. Of course, there was something that sprang to the front of the former Maverick Hunter's mind. "It's dawned on me that, ever since you and I have come into contact, our general thoughts and conclusions mirror each other greatly."

The one-eyed humanoid shape blinked, seemingly curious as to what the Reploid was implying. "Meaning…?"

Sigma hesitated to speak at first, yet ultimately remembered that, regardless of how he felt, it was useless to try and hide it. Not that he could. Which, in turn, led to his inquiry. "Just how much of all of this is me, and which part is you?"

Note: Sorry for the shorter length, but I promise, we will get back to the action next time. Plus, while the visit to the center surprised me with what they said, thinking about it now, many things are beginning to make sense, especially regarding my views and reactions to things.

With that said, I apologize again for the short length and slow pace. We WILL be seeing Super Fighting Robots next time!