Chapter Text
Monsteropolis. Known to some for its unique hotdogs, known to others for its laughable mens’ football team, but known to many more as one of the global hotspots of human ingenuity and scientific advancements in advanced robotics. It is here in the city of Monsteropolis where history had been written, breakthroughs had been made, and where heroes and villains sleep and wake. Known to some as the “Home of the Robot Master”, mainly due to one prominent leading roboticist known to all as the Father of Modern Robotics, Dr. Thomas Light. Monsteropolis is the home of the good doctor, and the Super Fighting Robot, Megaman.
The bustling city's downtown lies a few miles away from the suburbs of the major city, and even further from the suburbs and offshoot towns, the Monsterica Mountain Range divides the country and offers quite a peaceful view to its denizens. A little above the foot of one of rolling mountains, a quaint little house and laboratory sits upon a grassy hill, surrounded by verdant deciduous trees. In the front yard, a young girl attached a message to a little blue bird, which, who is now destined with a mission, set off eastward.
Meanwhile, within the walls of a laboratory, an elderly man sat in front of a monitor, surrounded by smaller, assorted monitors. His fingers danced against a great computer keyboard with a methodical precision. He needed to get this software information organized and filed, then he needed to file a status report on his updated creations for this month, and then after that, he promised that he would spend more time with his ‘children.’ And there is also the Monsteropolis Robotics Ethics Committee press conference on Monday to consider as well… He made a mental note to keep his planner updated for this upcoming week.
A roboticist’s work was never finished, not that it mattered to Dr. Thomas Light, since he greatly enjoyed his work. To create a robot, from conceptual drafts and blueprints into a fully functioning sentient aid to society, it brought him an unfiltered joy and satisfaction that he could only wish the rest of the world could feel as well. Similar feelings welled up while fixing robots, updating them, and sharing ideas with other roboticists and engineers in the scientific community. Simply put, his interests for robots have always been genuine and pure. He just wished that a certain mad scientist responsible for ten or so wars also had purer intentions for his creations. Unfortunately, for the last handful of years, his former colleague has had a presence that he simply could not ignore.
Those poor robots, Light thought to himself. To only be used for such malevolent desires… he could only imagine what kind of short lives they would live. Light couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. All of that creativity, all of that ingenious innovation! It could’ve all been used to help the people and robots as a whole advance, but instead, Wily’s preferred usage is to try for world domination… He couldn’t understand why he felt the need to eliminate both of their creations. You’re already an incredible roboticist, Albert. What is there to prove by trying to take over the world? By taking your ambitions and your grievances far beyond the point of no return?
He hoped that he would understand one day.
He hopes every day that Wily would understand one day and stop trying to initiate wars against him and the world. I can’t keep doing this, is what he wants to tell himself… or at least, has for the past three Robot Wars. That, and he wishes that he didn’t have to put Rock through this so many times. Rock seems to be fine by this point, but as a father figure to him, he can't help but wonder sometimes. If only there were another option, though. Light was fully aware that so long as Wily and himself could still build robots, he would still have to send Megaman to combat Doctor Wily for the sake of keeping everlasting peace.
Light hit the Enter button one last time before he was done organizing the new assortment of software programs and tools for testing in the next few days. Before he continued and began on the status report of his recently renewed creations from the latest war, a soft knock sounded from the farthest end of the lab. “Come in,” Light called out, voice croaky but gentle, before his body lurched forward and racked with ragged coughs. He immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and coughed into it. He turned around to see one of his robotic ‘children’, with a tray in hand. A cup of hot tea, a water bottle, and three pills on a napkin were on the platter.
“Hi, Doctor Light. I’ve made the tea and brought over the prescription medicine you needed. I’ve also taken care of the house chores today and made sure that Rush got his regular checkup and playtime, too.” The cute robot donned in a red dress addressed to the doctor. She set the tray on a nearby cart next to the monitors.
Light caught his breath and looked down into his handkerchief. He cursed to himself mentally when he saw wet, red splotches amongst the white fabric. He looked back to the robot, who looked concerned. “Doctor Light? Are you alright?” She asked. It seemed as though she was more focused on him than his handkerchief.
He tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and smiled gently. “I will be fine, Roll. Thank you very much for bringing this to me and taking care of everything so early. ...So. Has it been hours already?” Light said, chuckling.
Upon seeing and hearing the doctor’s smile and reassurance, Roll seemed to calm down. She smiled knowingly at her father. “It’s been almost six hours, Doctor. You’re always so busy at work… isn’t it almost time for you to rest for the day?” She asked.
“Rest? But how can I rest when there is so much to be done?” Light said lightheartedly, but the stern look he was getting from Roll did not falter. “Don’t worry about me, my child. I will rest today, I assure you.” Roll did not change her expression, but she nodded. She passed the water and pills to Light, who reluctantly took them. Their eyes met again and he knew that Roll was a robot who did not give up until he complied. “Alright, alright. I will finish this work first thing in the morning tomorrow.”
Roll’s face finally brightened. “Oh, phew! Thank goodness that you’re done for the day. For one second, I thought I needed to call Time Man over to tell you the time and remind you to take breaks.”
“Please, Roll, that’s not necessary. Time is a very busy robot, and to be frank, does not react well to sudden changes in his schedule. I would only hinder his work and mood.” He laughed softly, suppressing the urge to cough in front of Roll. “Please allow me a few minutes to shut down the computers before I join you and Rock upstairs.”
Roll nodded. “Alright, Doctor Light. I also hope that you feel better soon! I’ll be upstairs cooking dinner.” And with that, she headed back towards the door. Light held his smile for a moment, before turning back to his computer, and coughing more. He hated when his physicians and primary care doctors were right. It seems like he wouldn’t be fighting with Wily for much longer if he keeps coughing up blood like this. He hasn’t found the time yet to tell Rock or Roll of his… physical condition yet. He’s been so busy lately and he needed to find a moment where all three of them weren’t preoccupied with work, errands, and duties. It was important for them to know and it pained him to keep it a secret from them for the time being. He desperately wished he wasn’t sick, especially when there are so many projects to work on, when he had children he didn’t want to worry and let down, let alone keep secrets from. His physical health was only one work in progress he did not want to keep just to himself.
He reached into his other lab coat pocket, and pulled out something similar to a USB drive. In actuality, it was a small but powerful external hard drive. He inserted it into one of the computer towers underneath the keyboard.
A small pop-up window emerged, asking for an encryption key and password, which Light typed in hastily. The monitor flickered, before showing a small window with a blank background and a loading bar. And then a black screen, a blinking cursor, and one singular letter at the top of the screen.
X. |
Light stared at the lone letter, and took a slow, tired breath. His newest magnum opus, and what may very well become his very last child. He stared at the blinking cursor. He only had basic notes written down in the drop down menu on the screen. He stared at the empty black space… And he didn't know what to type.
It’s become something of a post-work day ritual as of lately. Doctor Light opens the “X” file, and then sits there for a few minutes, trying to think of something to write and ultimately in the end, only getting a sentence or two out. At least, he knew the basic concepts for this robot’s software design. A robot with the ability to make their own choices, regardless of whether Asimov’s Three Laws come into play or not, a robot that can grow and adapt mentally like a human, a robot that possessed infinite potential. Ever since the most recent war… he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Those robots, his own robots, made the decision to join Wily because they were afraid of being scrapped and only wished to continue serving a purpose to humans… Unbelievable! They possessed a capacity to actively make their own decisions! It was incredible.
...It was extremely dangerous, as well. He was well aware of the catastrophic consequences that could be brought about, should a robot, a Robot Master in particular, begin to make the active choices to become a threat to humanity. If they wished to harm others for whichever reason. Should a Robot Master decide to follow in someone like Doctor Wily’s steps… But that’s also why they should possess that free will, he argued in his mind. To be able to resist a human’s commands to do evil or harm in the first place! A robot should not be forced to do something that, ultimately in the end, they wouldn’t wish on their own kind, nor something that they truly would not want to do! That young, punkish robot of Wily’s came into Light’s mind briefly. He did not always obey Doctor Wily’s orders, it seemed, but it also seemed like he was an exception compared to the dozens of Robot Masters that Wily has built in the past, or stolen. He took a sip of his warm tea.
Light closed the program window and extracted the external hard drive, and began to shut off the computers. He could think about this later; he was making his children wait. He slowly got up, and headed into the elevator. Once upstairs, he found Roll was making stew in the kitchen and Rock was flipping through channels on the TV in the living room, trying to find the show that Light suggested they could watch together. His son called him over, and Light smiled.
It was 10:48pm.
Light sat at the edge of his bed, and took his regular dose of nightly prescribed medicine. What an unpleasant feeling in his throat. He hated chugging pills everyday.
Light exhaled and slowly laid down against the pillows on his bed. He was supposed to be asleep about 15 minutes ago, and yet…
The ability to choose their own fate, to make their own decisions. There were so many risks to consider, should a robot possess this ability. The results could end with the decommissioning and banning of advanced robots altogether, or it could lead to something previously unseen by mankind; something incredible. But if he were to build a robot like this, to say that he would have to be careful would be a severe understatement. A robot with this capability who did NOT abide by Asimov’s Three Laws… the possibilities could literally be endless as to what would happen. Countless risks and yet, one huge step forward in modern robotics and roboethics. It would be revolutionary, but he hoped with all of his heart that it would prove to be beneficial above all else. It would be another step closer to everlasting peace.
But…
He couldn’t build X just yet. He couldn’t simply just cross his fingers and hope that everything would work out ideally. He needed more notes; he needed tests first. There was still so little he really knew, despite all his years of work and breakthroughs advancing modern robotics. Something sat in the forefront of his mind. He first needed to know if any advanced robot was capable of making their own decisions, of growing and learning on their own. Was the standard Robot Master capable of this? A small thought bubbled up within his mind.
...He already knew there was one robot who could. His expression fell and his brows furrowed with sorrowful recognition.
Blues technically did count, however under normal circumstances, there was no way to communicate with him regularly. He didn’t even know if Blues was remotely interested in repairing their relationship together. Not to mention, he never programmed Asimov’s Three Laws into him. He loves Blues and misses him dearly, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid of him, in one sense. And afraid for him as well. He could not rely on Blues for this. He needed a robot which he could supervise.
He needed to experiment first. He first needs a control group before “X” ultimately becomes his experimental group in this project. Which brought another question to Light’s attention. What robots would he use? Which robots could he use? A list was forming in his mind, and he sat up in bed again.
Rock and Roll weren’t optimal choices, mainly because of their attachment to him already. He could safely predict what would happen should he give them almost-completely free will. It was likely that they would continue to follow the same routines as they have always done, due to their already-established personalities and commitments. Alternatively, his Industrial Series was out of the question as well. They were almost always needed for work – not to mention the last time he called Elec Man out of work for a project without at least a prior week’s notice, one of the power plant’s robot supervisor yelled at him so much, he swore he could visualize the veins popping in the man’s forehead and the rage-induced constipation, too. A similar scenario has already happened with Fire Man’s worksite staff, as well. And Oil Man’s, too.
He considered his robots with recently renewed expiration dates, the ones from the Ninth Robot War. But if he pulled them aside for this project, their expiration date renewals would be pointless, and render his current efforts to find them new careers moot. It felt disingenuous and inconsiderate to them, after everything that they just went through. They were not an ideal option either. Dr. Light rubbed his forehead and sighed as the options in his head narrowed down more and more. He needed a Robot Master who was capable, available, and preferably without any attachments to him to begin with. For just a moment, he envied Wily for always having some kind of robot readily available to use at any moment.
Those poor robots, to only be used for such malevolent desires… he could only imagine what kind of short lives they would live.
Light stared at the notebook on his bedside nightstand. Wily sure has worked with a lot of robots. It’s a shame that he keeps discarding them whenever Rock defeats them.
Wait a second. Discarded robots?!
All of that creativity, all of that ingenious innovation! It could’ve all been used to help the people or help robots as a whole advance…
Of course! The older generations of Robot Masters from the Robot Wars! Any of them could be an ideal candidate to test for his experiment! He recalled something from before the Third War: while he collaborated with Wily on Project: Gamma, Albert himself said he kept his notes and schematics for his Robot Masters, but had no need to collect the robots themselves! Light reached over for his notepad and mechanical pencil. It touched the paper but he stopped.
Wait. Hold on. Light’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips tightened. Would this be considered stealing? Wily’s Second Line were his creations and his only. Yes, that is true, he thought, but he also discarded them and has had no intention of reclaiming them since he created them. Those robots are considered abandoned property by now. It would not be stealing. Not only that, but Wily himself isn’t above kidnapping robots, as he’s done so multiple times, more than once with his own Robot Masters. And he also doesn’t have any other ideas for robots to use.
It’s not stealing, he reassured himself. He was certain of it. He made up his mind on the matter.
He hastily scribbled some notes onto the notepad and heavily circled one section of it for emphasis. He then reached over to the nightstand again and pulled an address book out of its drawer. He flipped to the back of the book and found what he was looking for. He hesitated, before picking the second number sequence on the list. He reached for the cell phone nearest to him and dialed it. It took but only a moment before a gruff voice spoke from the other line.
The sounds of loud and noisy construction work came through the call along with the voice. “Hello? Doctor Light? Ain’t it a little late for you to be calling me-- hey, HEY, gimme some space, will ya–? What-- YEAH, I’m calling someone-- shaddap, it’s Doctor Light! Gimme a few and cover my work!” The speaker on the line cleared his throat. “How can I help ya, Doctor?”
“Hello, Guts Man. I’m sorry to be calling you at such a later hour than normal, but… I’ve got a project that I believe I need your help with tomorrow. Could you please tell your boss as soon as possible that I’ll be needing you and Bomb Man for tomorrow and the next three or four days?” Dr. Light explained to him, before coughing violently.
“...You don’t sound good, Doc. You okay?”
“In all honesty, I could be doing better. Roll is helping me recover currently. Is it possible I could see you tomorrow?”
“Oh, uh, yeah-- yes, definitely. I’ll tell my boss first thing when I finish my work tonight. What kind of project do you need me for, by the way?”
“I’m going to test a social and ethical experiment with a Robot Master, and I need you to recover the body of this Robot Master for me. Depending on how tomorrow goes, I may need both your help and Bomb Man’s as well.”
“Recover a Robot Master... Should I ask what ya mean by that?”
“I need the body of one of Doctor Wily’s eight Robot Masters from the Second Robot War.”
“Ohhhh, I see now. ‘Wilybots’, huh? This should be interestin’. Don’t worry, Doc. Me and Bomb got your back. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning, ‘k? I’ve gotta cut this short, unfortunately. I think the rest of my crew needs me.” Almost immediately, an audible crash sounded on Guts’ end of the call. “Alright, alright, I’m comin’ over!”
“Thank you dearly, Guts Man. I will see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”
[Booting startup protocols. . . ]
[DWN02 Operating System initializing. . . Initialization complete. ]
[DWN02 Operating System loading. . . ]
[Downloading DWN02 OS updates. . . Installing DWN02 OS updates. . . DWN02 OS updated. ]
[Version 2.009.24 installed. ]
[Core Systems loading. . . Core systems active. ]
[Checking for errors. . . (0) errors found. ]
[Booting Effectors. . . ]
[Update(s) for Effectors has been found. Update Effectors to newest version?] [ Yes / No ]
A large hand reaches down and gently pushes a key on the keyboard.
Yes.
[Effectors updated. Running tests for errors. . . ]
[(0) errors found. ]
[Control systems loading. . . Control systems loaded. ]
[Performing pre-emptive link tests. . . (0) errors found. ]
[Cognitive programs loading. . . New software has been detected on this version. Is this okay? ] [ Yes / No ]
Yes.
[Do not ask again?] [ Yes / No ]
An irritated sigh echoes through the lab and another keystroke.
Yes.
[Cognitive programs loaded.]
. . . . .
. . . . .
. . . . .
[Integrated Circuit chip loaded. Testing Integrated Circuit chip. No current issues detected.]
. . . . .
. . . . I am active.
. . . . .
. . . . I am active. . . ?
Darkness. Absolute darkness encompassed him.
[Loading Sensory programs. . . All Sensory programs activated. ]
[Loading Vocal system. Vocal system activated. ]
Light, albeit very dim, began to pour in. His optics struggled to adjust to the sudden light at first. The sounds of machines quietly whirring picked up on his audio receptors. The quiet hum of an air conditioner. Faint and bad pop music playing on a radio somewhere far away. His vision was blurry but after a few seconds, he could at least determine that he was in a large, mechanical room. Good. This must mean that Doctor Wily has collected him for repairs.
[Finalizing additional activation protocols. . . Loading additional programs . . . ]
This kind of music was definitely not the Doctor’s usual tastes. Perhaps the radio was breaking, again. Other than the quiet ambience, the Doctor’s laboratory sounded unusually calm. He wasn’t used to that. He opened his optics a little more, and all too suddenly, his first realization hit him. He didn’t recognize this laboratory.
[Loading complete. ]
. . . . . Where am I. . . ?
[DWN-009 activated.]
He looked down and recognized his own body; he felt no pain, he felt no pleasure, his body was new. His hands twitched, before he lifted one up. He rotated his wrist slowly and curled his metallic fingers. My body works, he thought to himself. He raised his hand more, only to feel wires pulling his arm taut. His forearm compartments were opened up, with wires fitted into the ports. He carefully lifted his hand up and felt around his neck. Cables were attached to his neck, and more wires were inserted snugly underneath his chest armor.
Where am I, he thought more clearly now. His eyes wandered and first took note that he was laying on some kind of metal operating table now. Nearby, computer screens illuminated the room brightly. He blinked rapidly a few times as his optics recalibrated again. He could tell now that he was most definitely inside someone else’s laboratory. That could mean a couple of things.
Where the hell am I, he thought. He felt something well up inside him. Some newer emotions beyond his initial confusion. He allowed the first emotion to come through-- Unease. The second-- Fear.
He tried to lean forward, but the wires pulled him back down. The fear was settling in now. His eyes widened and darted around until they found a familiar-looking elderly man in a lab coat, typing away at a very large computer keyboard. It didn’t ease his mechanical nerves at all.
“Doctor Wily?” His voice was quiet and somewhat baritone. He was a little relieved that he could at least speak, still.
The man turned around and the robot was no longer relieved. “...You’re not Doctor Wily.” He said aloud, as if to confirm. His confusion and fear was giving way for his anxiety to now play with the scenarios brewing within the robot’s digital mind.
The doctor spoke in a gentle, jovial tone. “No… I’m afraid not, little one. But I’m still just as happy to see you awake as I hope Doctor Wily would be.”
The doctor before him sounded so welcoming and friendly, but these were things that the robot did not know nor were used to. If anything, it only confused him more. This man was not Doctor Albert Wily, but he still knew exactly who this man was. He’s only seen him in enough pictures before. “You’re- you’re Doctor Light.” He stated. What did this mean for him? Was he going to be reprogrammed? Experimented on? Tortured? Where was Doctor Wily? Where were his linemates? He laid still on the table. “Where am I…?”
“That’s right. And right now, you’re in Light Laboratories. Which also happens to be my home.” Doctor Light answered him. He grabbed for a notepad and pencil and jotted a few notes down. “Would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions? I have no ill will with them.”
Did he have a choice in that matter? Was he allowed to give him an answer? Doctor Wily had never mentioned anything about refraining from speaking with Doctor Light, not that he could recall. Was it wise to speak to him? Would he get in trouble for this? However, alternatively, he did not know what was going to happen if he remained silent for the doctor. He was alone, and strapped to an operating table. He has no means of communicating with his linemates or Doctor Wily. He didn’t exactly trust the famous Doctor Light, not after everything he’s heard about him. But how much of a choice did he have while he was at his complete mercy within his laboratory? “...Sure.”
“Good. First, what is your name?”
Is this a trick question? He scrutinized Doctor Light for a moment. The good doctor waited patiently for an answer. Their eyes met briefly and the robot focused on a computer screen in the room. “...Metal Man,” he finally answered. Doctor Light scribbled something quickly on his notepad.
“What is your series and model number?”
Metal Man hesitated. Was… was he allowed to disclose his model specs to someone like Doctor Light? He supposed he’d figure that out later, afterwards. First, he needs to formulate an escape plan from here. “...DWN. 009.” He said.
“Yes, that’s right. You’re doing a good job so far. I only have one more question.” Doctor Light said. “But before I ask, do you remember how to breathe?” Metal blinked at him. “Breathe now and try your best to remain calm and level-headed.”
Why? Regardless, he inhaled through the small ventilation openings in his face mask. He felt the cool air rush down through his body and it brought him little relief for his nervousness. Why was he in Doctor Light’s laboratory? Did Doctor Light do something to him? Was he going to do something to him? He was nervous. But he continued to breathe, slower, and tried not to allow his most irrational anxieties to play out in his mind.
Doctor Light nodded. “Good job.” But, his gentle expression hardened a little. “Now Metal Man… could you please tell me what your last memory is?”
Metal paused his breathing. His last memory? What… was his last memory? He accessed his memory data banks and flipped through thousands of memories he has had while last active. There were so many distinct memories that he had not thought about in some time. From his first day active, to his time at Doctor Wily’s Castle, to his training sessions, his preparations, his occupation of his station, to… to... He saw something flash right in front of him, sleek, shiny, and thin, lacerating his synthetic skin and slicing his wires, ripping his metal flesh as if he were made of putty. He recalled the excruciating pain he felt if only for a second--
Metal’s eyes screwed shut suddenly, lightly hissing and jerking his body against the wires connected to him for a second. He shivered and wished he could hug himself. He wanted to disappear out of his scrap-forsaken lab and curl up somewhere alone. “Megaman…! He…! He…” Metal recalled Doctor Light asking him to breathe just before. He remembered to slowly inhale and exhale. He made brief eye contact with the doctor again, and tried to compose himself. “...I was fighting Megaman. A second time. In the teleporter room. We were his last defense. And... ...Megaman threw my own Metal Blade at me… and cut my head off.”
“I see… You remember everything, then.” Doctor Light concluded, his brows furrowing at Metal’s description. He did indeed remember Guts Man and Bomb Man bringing in his body in two pieces instead of one. If Metal didn’t know any better, it almost seemed like Doctor Light looked sympathetic towards him. But that can’t be right. Perhaps it was simply pity for the cutterbot. This was Megaman’s Doctor, after all. And speaking of the little blue nuisance…
Metal shifted uncomfortably against the table. “Is… is Megaman here?” He asked, nervous at the idea of being anywhere close to the Blue Bomber while he had access to his Metal Blades. His eyes shifted around to see if he was anywhere in the lab.
Doctor Light looked at him. “No, he is not. Right now, he is out of town with one of his brothers. Did you want to see him?”
“No!” Metal nearly yelped, and remembered to breathe again. “Er... no, I do not.” Another breath. Calm down, Metal, calm yourself. Don’t be scared. “Doctor Light,” he started, “why am I here? Why am I active right now? I failed in my sole objective: I failed to destroy Megaman. I am a Doctor Wily Number. Where is Doctor Wily…?” His fears made his robotic gut tighten… His thoughts began to creep to places he did not appreciate-- oh. Oh no. Please, not that. “A-am I a Lightbot now?”
“No, no, you’re not a Lightbot. Unlike your creator, I am not a man who fancies stealing robots.” Light took a handkerchief out of his pocket and coughed quietly into it.
Huh? “Then why am I–! I– I don’t understand… I am in your lab and... …I still belong to Doctor Wily… right?” This was confusing him more. Never in his wildest imagination would he picture himself at the mercy of Doctor Light of all people. And he still didn’t know why he was reactivated nor why he was here, and what Doctor Light wanted to do to him.
Doctor Light looked at him in a way that made him uneasy. It was a melancholic look. The man walked over to a large file cabinet away from the table and the computers, and dug carefully through it. He soon found what he was looking for: a grey paper with a sticky note attached to it. He walked to the keyboard and input a command on it. With a hiss, the wires detached themselves from Metal’s body, making the robot twitch in surprise. He leaned forward slowly, sitting up and watching the doctor. He debated bolting for the nearest exit immediately, but… Why did Doctor Light look at him that way? What did he know that he wasn’t aware of? Where was Doctor Wily? Where were his linemates?
Said doctor, not afraid of the released Robot Master, shuffled over to him slowly, and handed him the paper. Metal scrutinized it. It was a newspaper clipping from December… he couldn’t make out the rest of the date due to a coffee stain. The article itself was small and included a small photo, and a headline that was as direct as it gets.
Factory Collapses in Blizzard After Years of Disuse.
Metal’s eyes widened. He recognized this place. This factory in the picture is the very place he used to frequent while he was active. It was his factory, his station, and the very place where he awaited Megaman for both of their battles. His eyes shifted over to the sticky note next. The words “DWN-009” was scribbled there, along with a simple doodle. A tally count was underneath it. Below that…. ‘Not Retrieved.’
Metal didn’t quite understand. Doctor Light mentioned that he never stole him… and the “Not Retrieved” written on the note… His mind welled up with a flurry of ugly emotions. Was… he left there to decay? Was he just left there? “Dr. Light,” Metal began. He was abandoned, wasn't he? He was never retrieved! “How long? How long w-was I left in the factory?” His voice wavered. But, that means…
Doctor Light was quiet for a moment. “Five years.”
“F….five…?” Years? Five years? He was left there for five years. Alone. Broken. Not Retrieved. But… why? Why wasn't he retrieved? Why didn't Doctor Wily collect him? “Yes,” the doctor confirmed sadly as he took the newspaper article from Metal Man, “And currently, Megaman just ended the official 9th Robot War.”
“Wha- N-ninth?!” Metal sputtered, visibly taken aback. His master has never stopped this whole time, and he bothered to have another seven wars without him or his… or his... His core rose up from its dread and heartache for a brief moment. “The others, what happened to my linemates?”
“I don’t know.” The doctor answered. Metal brought his knees to his chest and hugged himself. He was trembling. He was genuinely, truly alone. Where… where were his linemates? Was he the only one of the Seconds who was even active…? Doctor Light then called for someone else. “Roll? If you’re still cleaning in the back, could you bring over some hot tea?”
A distant “Okay, Doctor Light!” was heard. A few minutes later, Roll appeared before him, looked at Light, and then walked up to Metal Man. She had a steaming cup in her hand. “Hey, there.” She said gently, before looking back at Light again. He nodded approvingly. “You should take this, it’ll help you calm down. Or at least it’s supposed to.” Metal did not move, but he eyed Roll cautiously. The girl robot hesitantly took one of Metal’s hands and placed the cup in it.
Metal then stared at the tea like it had three heads. “What is this?” He asked.
“It’s tea,” Roll said. “You drink it usually to relax or feel better about yourself.”
“This is discolored water,” Metal retorted, “I can’t drink this. I am physically not able to digest it nor convert it into energy.”
“Well, actually,” Light cut in, “You can now. While I repaired your body, I upgraded your internal fuel converter to be able to convert biomass into energy as well. You should really try the tea, it is truly a blessing on Earth to have.”
“You modified me?” Metal said in disbelief, looking wide-eyed at Light before glancing over to Roll. She had this… look about her that seemed like she was trying to tell him something. He looked down at the tea in his hand. Right. He raised the cup to his face, but… He glanced at the two of them nervously. He didn’t want them to see his exposed face.
“Well, yes… I feel as though I could not ignore the opportunity to add some significant improvements here and there.” Light explained sheepishly, wringing his hands together slowly. He coughed a bit and cleared his throat. “There is that upgrade, and then I also replaced your armor pieces with ceratanium replicas… that’s what your Metal Blades are made of, and I implemented an emergency energy reserve in you, should you be on the brink of destruction again. I also welded your facial scars closed so they no longer tear any further than they already ha--”
“You did what to my scars?!” Metal squawked, and his face mask split vertically, retracting into the rest of his helmet. Doing so revealed his nose, mouth, and chin. He looked in the reflection of his tea, and saw the familiar diagonal tear in his synthetic skin that ran through his lips and mouth. Indeed, his mouth scar looked much cleaner now, blending into his artificial skin smoothly. “Oh…” he whispered, touching the scar. He couldn’t feel anything from the tissue around it.
“Oh dear…” Roll uttered upon seeing his scar. Smooth or not, a laceration scar on any artificial skin is hard to ignore. It exposed the silver metal underneath his face.
Metal was certainly surprised, but still did not feel amazing for being upgraded by the one and only Doctor Light. He looked at the two of them, unsure of what to say. Instead, he slowly lifted the cup of tea to his scarred lips and drank the foreign liquid. His eyes flickered down at the drink. It was hot. And it tasted… oddly plain. If not a little bitter. “...I don’t understand what makes this drink relaxing.”
“Perhaps, it is an acquired taste, after all.”
Metal closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. His face mask reappeared again. “Doctor Light… there must be a reason why you’ve added so many modifications to me and reactivated me only after five years of…” Being abandoned and forgotten. “N-no one else bothering to. Please tell me why.” He hugged himself again. He should probably run a software scan of himself too, to see if he added anything new to his control and cognitive systems as well. He began one, and so far, all seemed normal. His eyes narrowed. “What do you need to use me for?”
Doctor Light’s eyes met his, and he took a deep breath, before coughing again. “Well, in truth, I am about to conduct a very important experiment. I repaired and reactivated you to simply ask if you would like to participate in it or not.” He turned to Roll and signaled that this was going to be a private conversation. Roll understood and waved goodbye to Metal Man before taking the elevator up.
Metal looked away again. “Well, this isn’t really fair. You repaired me and gave me upgrades. It’s like you’re already trying to make me say yes or something...” He paused for a moment. He hasn’t picked up anything yet in his software scan. He sighed, resigned. “Alright, what’s the experiment?”
Doctor Light’s eyes met his robotic ones, and Metal shuddered at the intensity of the gaze. “Have you ever met a robot who is capable of making their own decisions and choices, regardless of whatever a human tells them?” Metal stared at him as if he just transformed into an alien. He slowly shook his head no. “I am soon going to build a very special robot who is capable of this. There is also already one such robot you have not met who already possesses this trait. He is very strong and independent--”
“Sorry to interrupt, but what is Asimov’s Three Laws?” Metal cut in, as soon as he found the coding in his cognitive programs referencing it. He knew it, he knew there had to be software modding as well!
“I was about to get to that. You should be able to access its definitions within your cognitive files.” Light encouraged, but only because he didn’t want to restate them and get into another coughing fit from talking too much.
The Robot Master’s optics blanked for a moment, his pupils lightly faded, as he read text that he could only see. He silently read them before murmuring, “...I know the Second and Third Laws already, but I don’t think I remember the First Law.” His optics returned to normal.
“Of course not. You were originally built to be a weapon for world domination. Why would Doctor Wily hinder you from your destiny by prohibiting you from harming humans?” Light explained. “I’ve coded all Three Laws into you. However, you should take note that Second Law has a very loose and outdated definition. Originally, it said ‘by human beings’ a long time ago, but since recently, it’s been updated to state ‘by its masters’, due to loopholes exploited by Doctor Wily himself. And due to him having never reclaimed you and left you as abandoned property, sadly, you currently do not have an owner of any kind. Which also brings me to another point I must make clear with you about your software changes as well.” Doctor Light was surprised that he never got into a coughing fit while explaining all of that. He took a deep breath, and got into a violent coughing fit in the middle of it. Of course. He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief.
Metal was going to comment on technically not having to abide by the Second Law, but he couldn’t help himself but stare at the Doctor. “...Why is there blood in your mouth and beard? Were you attacked before you repaired me?” He asked, confused. He didn't understand.
Doctor Light sighed shakily and wiped at his mouth and beard. “No, no, I’m just sickly. I'm not hurt... It seems that I’m reaching my own expiration date sooner than I thought.” Metal understood completely now. His expression softened as he processed his words.
“Have you told Megaman this yet? Or the little girl robot?”
“Not yet. I need to find the proper time to do so when none of us are busy. Why do you ask?”
The Wilybot averted his gaze and looked down. His voice was quieter. “I think it is important for a roboticist to let their creations know something like that. I could never imagine Doctor Wily hiding something like that from myself or my linemates.” Yeah, he would probably scream about it loud and angrily. Maybe he'd vow to build some kind of Ultimate Robot to End All Others, he thought to himself. But what are the chances of that happening?
Light too looked away, a pained expression on his face for a second, before he closed his eyes and spoke again, calmly. “I will tell them soon enough. Thank you for the concern. Anyways, the other software change I made--” Other software changes?
“You didn’t alter my I.C. chip, did you?” Metal interrupted again. He knew that not even Doctor Wily ever tampered with that part of Robot Masters. But with the heavy modifications he received, his anxieties were getting the best of him.
“What? Oh, heavens no, why would I do that? No, no, I just removed your cognitive programs’ coding strings that assign your loyalty permanently to Doctor Wily. That’s not associated with your I.C. chip.”
Huh. “What?”
“You no longer are forced to be loyal to Doctor Wily. From here on, I mean. If you still abided by that coded loyalty, you probably would have tried to attack me or escape from here by now. You can make your own choices of who you wish to align yourself to. Myself, Doctor Wily, someone else, nobody… that choice is now yours to make. The purpose of this experiment is to see if a Robot Master such as yourself is capable of living their own life and making their own choices.”
To Metal Man, that… he couldn’t quite process that information. He’s never made a decision of that caliber in his entire life. Was… that even possible for a Robot Master like him? All Robot Masters had a… well, a master of their own they had to listen to. They all had programming that they obeyed, orders that they followed. They were built to serve a master. Even Megaman constantly obeyed whatever order Doctor Light told him to do. This was the reality that Robot Masters happily accepted, as far as he was aware of. The thought of having no doctor to depend on, no doctor to turn to when he needed orders… wouldn’t that just make him as alone as when he was destroyed? Just as useless as before? He shivered again. He was afraid. Oh no, would he have to order HIMSELF around now…? He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to begin to unpack that string of thoughts. Not now. This was all too sudden and significant of a change to accept, let alone process. He wasn't built for this. This wasn't what he was built to do.
“What, what would happen if I declined your offer?” Metal hesitantly asked.
Doctor Light put a hand to his beard. “I suppose… I could undo the software changes I’ve made to you and deactivate you so that, in a way, this all would have never happened. Alternatively, I could also deliver you to Doctor Wily, but who knows what he will do with you. He’s been through so many Lines of Robot Masters by now that I can’t imagine what kind of new purpose he could assign you. If he’d even accept you, that is. Another possibility is that I could take you under my own wing, but then I would need to modify you once again and help you find a job for yourself, in order to aid humanity.” Metal shrunk in on himself at the thought of helping society. The doctor sighed. “This is why I find it better suited if you were to make this decision. There are so many options to choose from.”
Metal’s breathing became heavier as his fear and dependency took over. I can’t do this, he thought to himself. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone. Please. I’m scared. “D-Doctor, c-could I see that paper again?” He asked shakily. Doctor Light handed the newspaper clipping to him again. The burgundy robot stared at it, re-reading the headline and the sticky note over and over. “Shit,” he exhaled, “What do I do? I-I don’t know what to do. What should I do?” What should he decide? Where was Doctor Wily now? “What should I pick?”
“I can’t quite say, Metal Man. What do you think you should do?”
“I-I don’t know!!” He panicked, crinkling the newspaper article a little. Breathe, he reminded himself, You’re panicking. You were supposed to breathe. Robot Masters keep fighting even when they’re terrified. Breathe, calm down, and drink that tasteless tea because the little girl said it would help you relax. Metal reached for the tea and took a sip. He took deep breaths as he quietly mulled over his situation. Doctor Wily abandoned him… m-maybe he just forgot about him, and he’d be happy to see him if he came back? ….N-no. No, that can't be right. He’s the very first Robot Master he ever built on his own. That's significant, right…? Doctor Wily’s been through nine wars already, that’s what Doctor Light told him. Then if Wily saw unwanted scrap, he would… He shuddered again.
If he’s deactivated, then… honestly, what else is there beyond that? There was no afterlife like humans seem to believe in, no dreams, there was nothing. The time period between his final moments against Megaman and right now felt like nothing. He fought him over five years ago, and it felt like it was literally just yesterday, that he simply went into sleep mode and woke up here now. If he deactivated now, NOTHING would happen, and he’d die forever as a failure, with all knowing that HE is the victim of the world’s most humiliating cause of death. He didn’t want that. Not to mention… he had no idea what Doctor Light would do with his body if he deactivated him. He would be at Doctor Light’s mercy again if he deactivated himself and if… if Doctor Wily didn't want him back. Still, he couldn't have that– Doctor Light was an enemy.
And he could bet his metallic ass that the idea of becoming a Lightbot scared him beyond his wits.
An enemy, he chastised himself. An enemy that he's finding himself complying with, even cooperating with. What would Doctor Wily think of him now? His head buzzed with confusion and frustration. Was he a coward? A traitor? He didn't know anymore. This kind of situation was far beyond the scope of what he was built and trained for, what he could've possibly prepared for. Fight, or die. Oversee the new world order, under Wily’s command. There was no room for error. Metal’s mind whirled with thoughts, but he found himself no closer to an optimal solution following this line of thought.
He didn’t know what to do, and yet… if he declined, one of those three possibilities would most likely happen and he didn’t like any of those ideas. He still didn’t know what to do. He put a hand atop of the Metal Blade bolted to his helm. “Doctor Light… I-I can hardly believe it but... You’ve frightened me so much more today than Megaman wielding my own weapon ever had. Is… i-is it okay to-- Am, am I allowed to ask for advice?” He stammered nervously. He felt cornered, in a sense.
“You can always ask for advice anytime. I'm happy to provide,” Light reassured him. Poor robot, he thought sympathetically, he looks like he’s going to short-circuit. “Well… sometimes, when I have trouble deciding something, I tend to use the process of elimination by thinking about what I don’t want.”
Metal didn’t want any of those three possibilities happening by declining.
Oh scrap.
He took a deep breath and a moment, before he reluctantly resigned himself. “Okay, Light. … … ...I’ll be part of your experiment. Can I keep the paper?” He asked. Light nodded. He’s never felt so lost and scared inside a lab before. Labs were supposed to be a safe haven. Not this…
Light smiled warmly at him, but it didn't do much to ease the fear in Metal's core. “That’s great. And congratulations as well. You've made your very first major decision. And remember, if you ever need advice, you can ask me, but I won’t be telling you what to do. Also, I must let you know of another thing before this experiment continues. There’s only one thing I must request of you. The only ‘condition’ of this experiment, rather. And that is: no matter what decisions you make, no matter how commendable or deplorable, you should contact me in one way or another every month, so you can tell me of your progress. Agreed?”
Metal was shivering, but trying to steady himself with even breaths. He nodded his head. “Ye-yeah. Agreed. C-can I ask you for more advice?” He turned and hopped off of the table, and walked up to Ligh-- oh scrap, Doctor Light was a giant human. He looked up at him.
“Go right ahead.”
Metal did his best to stand up a little taller. He looked around the laboratory, nervous and unsure of himself. “Wh-what am I supposed to do now? For the experiment?”
Doctor Light stroked his beard and offered a gentler smile to the robot. “Well, I cannot tell you what to do. But I can always offer some recommendations. Would you like that?”
Metal nodded, staring at the doctor again. “Yes…”
“Well, perhaps you may or may not want to take a look at the world around you and see what has changed first… Much has changed in the span of five years. It may prove beneficial to you to become familiar with these changes as you adjust to this new life.” Doctor Light began to shuffle towards the elevator, and gestured for the Wilybot to follow. Metal complied, following behind him.
The burgundy Wilybot stood in the front yard of Doctor Light’s home, wide-eyed. His hands gripped at the straps of a backpack that the doctor generously gifted him. Mountains and the towering buildings of a nearby megacity painted the sky around him. One of his ‘ears’ twitched.
This world he was supposed to dominate suddenly looked a lot bigger than he last remembered.