#obviously when we investigate the facility its either much earlier or much later than the opening scene nice little fakeout | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronicbatfictioner · 5 years

Text

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 1

a/n: So I found a fic that has more than a dozen chapters and is finished. Kind of. It’s going to be part one of an alternate universe. But as far as part one goes, it’s finished. So I’m posting it and fixing it as I go. Yay.

A fated night, 20 years ago - so everybody thought and believed. A fated night that brought Dr Thomas and Mrs Martha Wayne, along with their 10-year-old son, Bruce, to the Cinema at Park Row to watch an old movie rerun. A fated night in which Dr Wayne had forgotten his wallet at the concession stand, and the concession attendant had chased him as they got out of the theater to head back home. It was fate that had stopped Dr Wayne to praise the 17-year-old Lucius Fox who had taken the schedule from his coworker who had played truant for the night - and handed him a thank you speech and a fifty out of said wallet along with his business card and offer for Lucius to come over to Wayne Enterprises whenever he could. Dr Wayne commented that honest man was too rare in Gotham City for him to not grab hold of one it as soon as he saw Fox.

The delays thus made it possible for Alfred Pennyworth, their butler, to arrive just in time to pick them up, just as they were held under gunpoint by a junkie who was trying to rob them. Alfred, a war veteran, had not hesitated in drawing his own gun when he saw the procession, and shot the man who were going to rob Dr and Mrs Wayne.

A fateful night of young Bruce Wayne's first introduction to crime, and the realization that his city - Gotham City - was fully invested with petty crimes. And as his father had said some minutes earlier: an honest man is rare in Gotham.

Alfred's' gun did not kill the wannabe-robber. Yet it shocked Bruce enough to understand that his life has been one of privilege. They did not have to wait in the chilly night or at the precinct for the cops, instead the cops - a young Detective James Gordon - went to their manor for their statements. Joe Chill, the robber, was arrested by the paramedics and police summoned by Alfred. At the trial, he had cried and told the court he was sorry, and that he was rehabilitated while in prison. He was to serve three years for attempted robbery with deadly force.

Bruce Wayne understood well just how lucky he was. He went on to follow his mother's footstep into business school instead of his father, because the blood spurting out of Chill's wound as he had gotten shot had traumatized him. He would not tell his father, but the medical profession is not something he trusted. He was even younger when he had watched his mother lost the infant that was to be his little brother and got hospitalized for it; followed by the death of their older butler, Jarvis, due to heart attack not long after. When Jarvis' son arrived at the manor, he barely could contain his delight. To the then-four-year-old, Alfred looked young enough to play with - albeit having just as cool and stern mannerism as Jarvis. Apparently, he had worked in theaters. Bruce was excited then. And Alfred became his closest companion through the years.

Ten years after that fated night, Gotham City had continued to deteriorate. It has held the position of the worst city to live in in the US for ten years in a row, regardless of everything Dr Thomas Wayne has done to fix it. Bruce, now in business school, has offered ideas that were quickly implemented by his father; his mother's brother, uncle Philip; and everyone at Wayne Enterprises. Some of the ideas rooted and sprouted, only to be killed a little while later by Gotham's own citizens who had claimed that they do not trust people like the Waynes. One of the ideas was to send Lucius Fox to college, and then hire him by the time he finished his engineering studies. Fox was one of Bruce's ideas that hit the jackpot but nearly got drowned by Fox's own colleagues.

The rich people are all corrupt, they had said during a random polling done by an external agency. Regardless of how much money the Waynes owned, or the fact that if it hadn't been for the Waynes, at least 70 percent of Gothamites would not have had a job.

"They are rebelling through crime just for the sake of pettiness," Dr Wayne commented dryly, as news about a robbery that was done by the Red Hood Gang blared on TV. "They seriously thought that robbing banks could distribute wealth instead of working hard for it."

Bruce just sighed. He couldn't understand it, either, how people were robbing banks and thought they would make a change. "Obviously, their simple minds only think that when you rob a bank belonging to one of The Families, we would be poor. They obviously has no notions of insurances and the fact that they were only stealing from their own neighbors." he commented.

The Waynes had come from a very long line of riches, all the way back to the Old World. It had been the Waynes who initially came up with the plans to build Gotham. The other families; the Kanes, a.k.a. his mother's forefathers; the Cobblepotts; the Dumases, and Crownes - all had acquired their immense wealth only after Gotham had stood.

There are only three families remaining out of Gotham's original founding families, with the rest diluted or got themselves renamed with lack of successors. Like the Dumases - now Galavan; Crownes - now Elliotts. Other families would rise, such as the Drakes, previously unknown and inventors of new medicines and amateur archaeologist - also in-laws of the Galavan; the Belmont family, who made their money in banking; the Arkham family who founded the Asylum for the Psychologically Impaired just at the outskirts of the city and so on. They truly made Bruce believe that with hard work and perseverance, anyone could get rich in Gotham.

He wondered, often, what would it take to turn a common man to change - be it for the better or worse. The criminals who got caught would blame it on a 'really bad day', and ignored the fact that their crime would make another person get a bad day; and thus perpetuate the circle.

There were still good people in Gotham, Bruce knew. People like his father, who would keep trying to open new manufacturing facilities. He would often be hindered by the anti-monopoly law that barred him from owning every manufacturing facilities that supply to Wayne Enterprises' own manufacturing line. But he would try, anyway, by making alliances with a number of the other business owners; establishing schools so that kids could grow up to be business owners; establishing free training seminars to allow people to get certifications for their skills; and so on and so forth.

Still, Gotham, the city with the highest job-hazard related incidents, seemed to want to resist him. The factories owned by unscrupulous people would continue to neglect their employees' safety, and caused incidents, that in the long run, prevented said factory to get the safety certification needed to supply Wayne Enterprises, and therefore would end up with the factory going bankrupt.

Then there were people like Dr Leslie Thompkins, a physician who was a classmate of Dr Wayne's. She opened a free clinic at the worst part of Gotham, Crime Alley. Dr Wayne would provide the supplies free of charge for her. And then people would try to rob the clinic. Bruce couldn't understand that, nor could he understand Dr Thompkins' insistence to remain there and use no security measures.

He understood the needs, alright. Wayne Enterprises has built a number of hospitals for low-income people. They have hired numerous good physicians - only to have said physicians quit or killed when gangs after gangs tried to rob the hospital. The ones remaining in those hospitals are the ones with bare minimum training or couldn't care less. Not good enough. Never good enough. None of them were Leslie Thompkins, who had skills and heart to do good all the way, by any means possible.

None of them was James Gordon, either - the Detective that was sent to question the Waynes and Alfred following the robbery. Bruce came to knew Gordon's background when he again met the man after being held at gunpoint for a robbery of his car. The one thing Gordon said had struck a note in Bruce's heart; "Just because you're wealthy, Bruce, doesn't mean you deserve to be robbed. Justice is justice, wherever levels of society you're in."

Gordon, Bruce knew, had come from Chicago; where he was 'boxed' - being sent to a boxed corner office cut off from the rest of his squad - for being too honest and refusing to let go of an investigation that involved the city's bigwigs. Gordon has two children; one biological son called James Junior, the other a daughter he had adopted when his brother and wife passed away. Her name is Barbara, and her redhead matched Gordon's, making people believed she was Gordon's biological child instead of the blond James Junior.

Gordon and his family seemed happy being in Gotham, much to Bruce's confusion. He noted that while visitors often found happiness in Gotham, most of its born-and-bred residents seemed to feel otherwise. Again, Gordon's comment - as he and Bruce started to befriend each other - made sense, "Some people just don't have it in them to appreciate what they have and think that the grass is always greener everywhere else; except in their own ignored pastures."

Bruce had often quietly promised himself that he would keep trying to help Gotham, so the city can live beautifully; and the people residing within her will realize that their home is beautiful and thus needs to be loved. With that in mind, he turned his focus in his school. There has got to be some way to keep Gotham's people happy, safe, and maybe even grateful.

#Bruce Wayne #Thomas Wayne #Martha Wayne #James Gordon #alfred pennyworth #Barbara Gordon #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Twist of Fate!AU #JayTim #Batman

36 notes · View notes

nowhere-herenow · 5 years

Text

No, I’m Not a Christian

When I became a believer at the age of 18, I didn’t think there would ever be a day when I would utter the words, “No, I’m not a Christian.” But it seems that day has finally come.

It’s not that I don’t believe in a Creator God anymore. I do. I believe in a loving and merciful Creator, Great Spirit, and Mother of us all. I believe that this Creator is far too complex to be boxed in by the limitations of human imagination and linguistic ability. This Creator has given us life that we may live in community with one another and all of creation.

But that’s not Christianity, at least, not based on the modern-day interpretation of what it means to be a Christian.

Why the change of heart?

For me to explain why I’m no longer a Christian, I need to take you back to a much earlier time in the history of the church, back to a very diverse city called Antioch during a time when the Apostles still walked the Earth.

It was in Antioch that the followers of The Way of Jesus Christ first received the nickname, Christian. According to an article in Relevant Magazine:

“The Church came to Antioch and began breaking down the dividing barriers in a way that upset the society’s existing categories. People from all parts of the city—Jews and Gentiles alike—were suddenly coming together. This group of people was redefining community in a radical and unprecedented way, so much so, that a new word was needed to categorize what in the world was happening.” [Emphasis mine]

Antioch was known as ‘all the world in one city,’ and it was an immensely diverse city. When these Christians started to do what they did, building community on no other ground but love, people started to take notice, and as the article pointed out, “The term ‘Christian’ comes from the world’s realization that something new and unheard of was happening.”

Breaking down barriers, bringing people together and redefining community are not things that today’s church, as a whole, is known for. In fact, when you talk to people that have left the church or the faith, you’ll find that they experienced the very opposite. The ‘done’ crowd, meaning those that are now done with the faith, will tell you that most of what they experienced in the church was division, wall building, and basically all the exact same things that you find everywhere else in the world. Today’s church is no different from any other group.

Imperfect, but not different.

I’ve heard Christians argue so many times in the past, “the church is imperfect, just like everyone else,” and while I agree with the fact that we’re all imperfect, the Church of the 1st-3rd centuries was, despite all it’s imperfections, different from the rest of the world. The original church was by nature subversive to the norms of the day. The original church stood up for the weak, the sick, the hungry, the slave, the oppressed, and it selflessly served the needs of each other and even those outside of the faith.

Read this excerpt from The Faith: A History of Christianity, by Bryan Moynahan:

Charity was an important part of the belief. Pliny [Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia] mentioned that Christians never refused a loan, and he could have added that they cared for the sick and vulnerable, that they visited their brethren who were imprisoned or sent to mines, and that they helped others in times of catastrophe, plague, famine, and earthquake. Regular collections for the poor were made on Sundays. Acts of individual generosity were recorded very early, like those of the centurion Cornelius who “gave much alms to the people” (Acts 10:2) at Caesarea. “We, who loved… wealth and possession,” the Christian apologist Justin wrote in about A.D. 155, “now put together even what we have and share it with all who are in need.” By 251 the church at Rome was supporting fifteen hundred widows and poor people; the following year, when Carthage was struck by plague, Bishop Cyprian sent his deacons to tend the sick. “Jews do not allow any of their own people to become beggars,” a later pagan emperor, Julian, complained, “and the Christians support not only their own but also our poor.”

Moynahan also goes on to say that Pliny, who was sent to investigate torture and execute the Christians, reported back that he could find nothing to condemn them with as treasonable and even pointed out that they were politically docile.

Politics Over Love.

It would seem that the original Christians were more concerned with showing love to their fellow human beings through very real and practical ways than they were with building some sort of pseudo-theocratic state in which everyone would legally have to abide by their religious laws. It never ceases to amaze me how so many Christians can so easily write off Acts chapter 2, ‘The Fellowship of the Believers,’ as being something that was acceptable then, but today is labeled as socialism; while, at the same time, taking scriptures that relate to the submission of women and condemnation of homosexuality as being literal commands (when they obviously were not).

Compare those early Christians to the Christians of today (this is just in my own lifetime).

· Christian churches have largely embraced ‘white flight’, fleeing poor neighborhoods as minority groups move in, in favor of much larger and modernized facilities on the ‘better’ side of town.

· When AIDs ravaged the gay community, Christians said it was God’s wrath and initially did nothing to help.

· Christians are excessively political, willing to turn blind eyes to all forms of evil and greed in the pursuit of their own pseudo-theocratic state.

· Rather than breaking down dividing walls, Christians have created their own subculture complete with Radio & T.V. stations, clothing lines, school systems, music genres, books, hospitals, camps, magazines, etc. Essentially making it possible to completely isolate themselves from the world they’re supposed to serve.

· While insisting that they are persecuted, Christians repeatedly persecute other groups that they do not agree with.

· Many conservative Christians have even embraced the teachings of people like Ayn Rand whose idea of objectivism directly conflicts with the teachings of Christ.

· Christians are willing to completely ignore what Jesus taught with regards to strangers and foreigners, choosing instead to embrace the ideas of national sovereignty and security. (I find it ironic that the majority of the migrants at our southern border are Christian, and they’re coming from countries that American Christians have been doing ‘missionary’ work in for decades now.)

· Christians have largely turned a blind eye to the plight of LGBTQ people in this country, disowning their own children and ignoring the alarming suicide rates that have ravaged their community.

Obviously, this list is not all-inclusive and obviously there are many Christians out there today that are not these-kind-of-Christians, but these observations do accurately fit the church as a whole. If you don’t believe me, simply ask one of your non-believing friends their opinion.

I’m Not a Christian.

So, why would anyone want to be a part of an utterly unexceptional group that seems to be interested in nothing other than practicing religious rite and legalism for the sake of religious rite and legalism?

Why would anyone want to give financial support to such an organization?

Why would anyone want to sacrifice their time and energy for such a group?

Can’t we volunteer our own time with shelters, soup kitchens, food banks, and other non-profits?

For that matter, can we not give money directly to these organizations instead of the church, which in my personal experience is often either so out of touch with the surrounding community, or burdened with facility costs that most of the financial support they receive doesn’t help anyone but the church itself?

I Am a Follower of the Way

The truth is, a long long time ago, the church strayed from its original calling and purpose, and because of that, the word Christian no longer means ‘little Christ’, and I for one do not want to be associated with what that word has come to mean.

In the third century, when the church ‘left the catacombs for the cathedrals,’ as Richard Rohr puts it, we quickly started to lose our way. Emperors presided over the first seven Vatican council meetings that formed the basis of what is now our religion. In fact, the church and the state became lovers of a sort, propping each other up in a mutually beneficial relationship. It was in this, dare I say, blasphemous union that the Church traded the Way of the Christ, for world dominance, financial security, and cultural superiority. Over the centuries, things have not gotten better.

It’s painfully tragic that a lot of what is taught in the Church today was never taught in the early church, and a lot of what the early church practiced has been lost on today’s Christians.

The early church did not have an ‘infallible’ bible, massive facilities, political influence, complicated theology, or private schools yet they flourished. Why? Because they understood the Way of Christ and the implications that came with it:

“Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.” -Jesus, from the Gospel of John 12:24-25 (The Message)

The modern church is determined to flourish and dominate in this society. It wants nothing of servanthood and poverty, and it wants to avoid sacrifice at all costs, even to the extent that it’s willing to put armed guards at its doors, instead of pushing for gun reform and affordable access to mental health professionals.

I can go on and on, and I may write more at a later date, but in short, the Church has exchanged the humility of Christ for the riches of this world.

I am no longer a Christian.

However, I am a follower of The Way of Christ.

Article quoted from:

https://relevantmagazine.com/god/where-christian-name-really-came/

Moynahan, Bryan. The Faith: A History of Christianity. 1st ed., Doubleday, 2002.

pp. 51-54

5 notes · View notes

skytranslates · 7 years

Text

Mega Man X: The Novel Chapter 1

Aaaaaallllright, it’s been a while, but the first chapter is finally done!! Many thanks to my translator @melonjaywalk and my editors moidang, Lambency and tjerrian! If you’d like to follow the group’s progress on the novel, check out this Google Doc! Without further ado, here’s Chapter 1: Day of Sigma!

P・1・2・3・4・5・6・7・8・9・10・11・12・13・A

“Heh heh heh… Why X-- aren’t you a pitiful sight?”

The Ride Armor pinned me down, fingers groaning as it tightened its grip on me. Against the ground, I couldn't see my opponent at all, but I didn't need to: I already knew him well.

“Grck.... Vile! Have you really gone Maverick!?”

“Obviously. There’s fewer strings attached -- it’s way better. Why don’t you become a Maverick too?”

“Don’t screw with me!”

He was being facetious, trying to see if I'd give myself away as a Maverick on top of suggesting it would be better that way.

“Why… Why are you people doing this!?”

I wonder, do these sound like the words of a former Maverick Hunter?

My name is X.

I’m a B-Class Maverick Hunter in the 17th Elite Unit. Regardless of my rank, it has… become my duty to fight countless enemies. In the wake of countless tragedies, the Maverick Wars had begun….

A few hours ago:

I was with Zero--my mentor, friend, and a Special A-Class Maverick Hunter--when we received a report of a Maverick incident. Dispatch sent us to a military facility in the southern part of the city to investigate.

“Sure is quiet for an incident…”

“No signs of damage, either... Maybe they were mistaken.”

There wasn’t a single trace of Mavericks, humans, Reploids, or even Mechaniloids, so we concluded that it was likely a false report, and tried to contact Hunter HQ.

“...Huh? That’s weird. I’m not getting any response from HQ.” Zero tried several channels but encountered static each time.

My luck was no better.

“I can’t seem to, either.”

Strange. The common and dedicated lines weren’t working?

“...Do you think something’s happened at HQ? Or maybe someone’s jamming the signal nearby.”

“The former’s unlikely… so it must be the latter. X, let’s try to find better reception. Not much more we can do here.”

“Understood. Let’s hurry, Zero.”

We swept through the area once more to confirm the situation, leaving the matter of our original target, the military facility, for later. We took the highway leading back to the city on our Ride Chasers--high-powered air bikes--but came to a stop upon noticing a disquieting pattern.

“...Huh? Zero, something’s wrong… It’s dark out, but I don’t see a single vehicle anywhere.”

It was July 4th, 21XX, just past 20:00. On a weekend, there weren’t as many cars around, but for there not to be a single one? To add to that, even the typical Mechaniloids that ran around the clock were nowhere to be found.

“...Looks like something might’ve gone down while we were away, after all.”

When Zero and I headed out, everything was normal: plenty of vehicles and Mechaniloids around and running. Now? The emptiness was utterly bizarre.

“It feels like all the activity from earlier just up and vanished…” No matter how far and wide we looked, we couldn’t find anything at all. It was like a ghost town. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this… Zero, let’s keep going!”

This city of ours… What was going on?

As our sense of unease grew, Zero and I plunged deeper into the city.

"What... What’s going on!?"

"It's like a warzone... Hey, hang in there! What happened!?"

We'd been on the highway for about an hour, but when we finally arrived, the place was demolished, the Mechaniloids were out of control… And amidst the ruins, we found a young, injured Reploid.

The sheer amount of damage he’d sustained burned itself deeply into my memory.

"This was...caused by a buster...?"

The same kind of weapon I carried caused these injuries: a buster cannon, meant for combat.

You could expect to see damage like this on the body of a Maverick who'd been taken down by a Hunter. But this Reploid was no Maverick; he was a civilian.

"Mmgrck... A... Maverick... Hunter...?"

The young Reploid wouldn't survive his injuries; he’d taken a fatal shot to head. There was nothing I could do.

I wondered if he already knew.

With the last of his strength, he ejected a single memory chip from a slot in the side of his head; Zero palmed it without a word.

"Sig... Sigma..."

"Sigma? Did something happen to the Commander?"

"..."

The young Reploid's systems went into terminal shutdown, leaving our questions unanswered. He appeared to be sleeping, but he was gone.

"What the hell happened here in the last few hours..." Zero muttered under his breath as he laid the Reploid back on the ground, one hand still balled around the chip.

No matter how much we wished otherwise, there was nothing we could do for him now. But he'd given us a potential clue; one that we wouldn’t waste.

"Zero, let's head back to HQ. I'm starting to worry."

“You’re right. Let's check this chip first, though. We need intel."

Zero inserted the chip into the Ride Chaser's onboard monitor before he'd even finished talking.

With a whirr from the reader, footage from the chip began its playback.

I couldn’t even begin to grasp what we saw.

"...If this is real, then this isn't just some random incident. This is big."

I couldn't respond; the words just wouldn't come out.

I had no idea how to react--not after being shown something like this.

“This is worse than anything we could’ve prepared for. We might be machines, but this is like a nightmare.”

It truly was a nightmare--a recording that left you wishing you could just wake up and leave it behind.

It was to be expected: as a Maverick Hunter, you were bound to witness tragedy. What had transpired here, though, went far beyond anything I’d ever encountered before. There was no doubt Mavericks existed, not anymore.

It’d never crossed my mind that a day could come where I’d go Maverick, too. Not even once. But this was why we took it upon ourselves to be Maverick Hunters, to protect humans and Reploids who lived peacefully from the threat of mayhem and violence.

In a sense, it was a way to convince ourselves. You tell yourself that, as a Maverick Hunter, you’ll never become a Maverick. The reality was that year after year, the number of Mavericks kept rising. In spite of that, the Hunters continued to work together to fight for and protect humans and civilian Reploids from harm.

In this way, we maintained peace.

And yet, the memory chip entrusted to us contained footage of Maverick Hunters slaughtering civilian Reploids.

“There’s no way… I won’t stand for this!”

I rushed down the highway towards Maverick Hunter HQ; an attack en route left our Ride Chasers destroyed. In light of the message--that Reploid’s last moments--we had to get back to HQ no matter what.

“I’m going to check the vicinity while I try to find another route. You keep following the highway, X.”

With that said, Zero took off, abandoning the overpass for the city proper. Nothing bad could possibly happen to someone like Zero, so I did as told, following the highway towards HQ.

“I can’t believe that Commander Sigma would go Maverick… I just can’t!”

That chip contained evidence of Commander Sigma’s insurrection against humanity itself, and Hunters who pledged themselves to his cause followed him down that path. The rebellion extended past this city alone; its banners threatened to smother the whole world. This was a statement, declaring all humans and any Reploids who defied their rule would be crushed.

“There must be a mistake here, somewhere… There has to be.”

I muttered it to myself like a wish, fighting off Mechaniloids and Reploids blocking my path. Why must my fellow Reploids become Maverick? Why must we fight against each other?

None of my former comrades could offer an answer.

“Why… Why are you doing this….”

How many Reploids and Mechaniloids have I destroyed by now...

The remains of my fallen comrades filled my scope as more enemies advanced upon me. I aimed my buster, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. Inhale… Exhale… Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself against my apprehensions. Body too tense, I didn’t have a second to relax when--

“Huh. Didn’t expect you to come back here alone.”

Before I could even react to the voice that boomed out behind me, an enormous figure engulfed my vision and slammed me hard into the ground.

“What’s the matter, X? Can’t even land a single hit on my Ride Armor?”

“Damnit! Fine, then. How about this!”

I unleashed all the energy in my buster on Vile. But he easily neutralized my attack with his own assault.

“No… No way!”

That shot took everything I had. That charge shot, my special technique and most powerful attack, had no effect on him whatsoever.

No, I shouldn’t think like that. Even if my attacks don’t work, I couldn’t afford to throw in the towel now!

“If I can’t take you out with just one hit, then I’ll keep firing until I beat you!”

When Vile had suddenly appeared, he trapped me with his Ride Armor. In order to escape, I targeted the road around me, firing off buster shots to break it up and loosen the grip on me enough to get free. From there, I immediately counterattacked, but he simply repelled all of my shots. Deciding that close combat put me at a disadvantage, I kept some distance from Vile and launched a constant barrage of charged shots. I knew that the continuous overuse of my buster would damage it with every shot, but I had no other option.

“This is it Vile. Either you get destroyed or my arm goes down trying!”

“My my… You sure are acting like some kinda brat pitching a fit, X. It’s about time I shut you up for good.”

Vile kept deflecting and even dodging my attacks. He slowly closed the distance between us, his voice just as cavalier as ever. If he drew just another step closer, I’d be in a position to get captured in his massive Ride Armor’s arms again. Suddenly, my entire body seized up, as if something constricted it tightly. I couldn’t move.

“Hyaaugh! W--What is this!?”

Glancing about, I saw what appeared to be a rope generated by some sort of electrical shock wrapped around my body. Only then did I notice the numerous metal discs on the ground surrounding where I’d been caught.

“Is this… An electromagnetic capture device!?”

Something like this was typically used against rampaging criminals, or for Mavericks who proved to be too difficult to handle. Only Maverick Hunters were allowed the use of such devices, but Vile had once been a Maverick Hunter himself. He must have taken it from storage at Hunter HQ at the time of the coup d’etat.

“You were so focused on me the whole time, you neglected your surroundings. A rookie mistake like that is how you got caught in a such a simple trap.”

If only I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed that Vile set this trap right under my nose. I struggled to break free, but as expected from a trap intended for Mavericks, I accomplished nothing. I stood no chance against a tool even Mavericks had trouble getting out of.

“You really are just a B-Class after all… What would Sigma want with a wimpy weakling like you anyway?”

I still couldn’t move, and found myself once again in the Ride Armor’s grasp. My joints began to creak as its grip tightened.

“You’ve only got one life, X. You should’ve been more careful with it..”

While he taunted me, that grip tightened further. The trap had already been enough, and the Ride Armor pushed it into overkill territory. After all I had heard and seen about Commander Sigma’s uprising, the weight of the reality finally started sinking in... The reality that Maverick Hunters had become the very things they hunted…

“I mean, I could tell you how fun it is to kill people, but I’m not sure you’d be convinced. Oh well, time to die, X.”

This is bad, this is bad, this is really bad. If things kept up like this, I’d be done for. I’ll die without achieving a thing! Caught in a force without mercy, my joints could only shriek, and my vision began to blur. I could hear it. I could feel it throughout my entire body. The sound of metal crunching echoed throughout my mind. The sound of metal being broken…

-- D E A T H --

When that word came to me--

“Do anything more to my friend, and I’ll blast your head clean off your shoulders, Vile.”

In a flash of red, what I saw was--

“Tch… So you finally caught up, you blond bastard.”

A Reploid with golden hair fluttering in the wind like a banner of hope as he aimed his buster. Zero.

“The situation is… If I must be frank, pretty bad…”

“What’s pretty bad is the fact that you can call this disaster ‘pretty bad’...”

“Honestly, I still can’t believe it...”

After I stumbled into that encounter with Vile, Zero rushed in to save me once he realized what was happening. I lost consciousness soon after, but when I came to, I found myself at the “Special Machine Research Facility” underneath Maverick Hunter HQ. Vile had the advantage, but instead he boarded an airship that suddenly appeared, vanishing without doing anything more.

While I underwent repairs from the damage done by Vile’s assault, we discussed the next plan of action and what objectives we Maverick Hunters should take. Speaking of, it’s been a while since I’ve been here, hasn’t it?

“If this insurrection is truly happening, then the Hunters’ foundation will crumble.”

“I don’t want to believe it myself, but… as a scientist, I cannot deny what my eyes have seen. I must accept it. But something on this scale has never crossed my mind before…”

This came from the elderly scientist who personally tended to my repairs. With a mournful expression, he meticulously went about mending my parts. It was likely no one else in the entire world could mend a Reploid faster.

“This must be hitting you hard, Dr. Cain.”

Dr. Cain.

The man known as the world’s greatest scientist, and the one who laid the foundation for Reploid design. His work was so great, it’s been said that there isn’t a single person alive who doesn’t know him. Commander “Sigma”, the one leading the insurrection, was said to be his greatest masterpiece.

Commander Sigma had set a shining example in his day-to-day leadership of the Maverick Hunters. As a Reploid, I had the utmost respect for him, so I still couldn’t believe he’d gone Maverick…

No. I just didn’t want to believe it. Because if I did, something inside me would shatter. But, saying that, I just couldn’t leave it alone.

The truth was, I’d fought with Vile, and seen with my very own eyes countless civilian Reploids slaughtered by those who’d gone Maverick. And Commander Sigma--no, Sigma, declared war against the world.

I’d seen the footage too. There was no doubt: Sigma had gone Maverick.

“Exterminating all humans to create a world just for Reploids… It’s delusional.”

I bit my lip at Zero’s words. If it became a world of only Reploids, what would be left?

“Certainly, you Reploids have strength and tenacity that surpass that of humans… but because of that, we must live in harmony. No life is worth more or less than another. That was what I always wanted to convey… but there’s no doubt that Sigma would reject that.”

The man before me was probably the one suffering the most in this situation. He was the father of Reploid technology, and it was his greatest masterpiece that just declared war on society. Now, he would be subject to the harsh criticism of society.

“I don’t know what kind of world Sigma’s picturing in his mind,” Zero said evenly, leaning against the wall nearby with his arms folded, “but if he’s gone Maverick, then we have to take him down. That’s our job as Maverick Hunters, X.”

Always calm and unwaveringly decisive. That was Zero for you.

“I know, Zero… Our power is meant to protect. If someone threatens the peace of the world, even if it’s Commander--no. Even if it’s Sigma, I’ll fight.”

I clenched my barely functioning left hand, confirming the power that was there. This power I’d been given to fight with… it was meant to protect. It was not something to be aimed at people. And right now… I should use this power for the troubled, elderly man next to us.

“As long as you understand.”

As if he felt the determination in my heart, Zero left those parting words and exited the room.

That’s right. Now was not the time to be lost. Even now, Sigma’s band of Mavericks were threatening peace. Having to fight my friends and fellow Reploids will be painful, but there are things in this world that I must protect.

“Because I’m a Maverick Hunter,” I said, as if I needed to hear those words once more for myself.

#mega man x: the novel #mega man x #rockman x: the novel #rockman x

157 notes · View notes