Fic: The Games [2/?]
Title: The Games [2/?]
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Tron (eventually), Quorra, Alan, Dillinger Jr.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/world/etc. I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: Sam gets trapped in the Game Arena, but the setup is different. TRON City is different.
Author's Note(s): Just letting everyone/anyone who reads this know, I haven't written fanfiction in years so please go easy on me. fdjksl.
Chapter 2
The Games
Caught again. On the same damn street. In the same way. How lame is that. Sam glances around, trying to get a better look at his new company. Same amount of programs as before, but this time the color variations are much, much wider. Blue, green, yellow, different from the last time where there had only been white-blue circuitry.
His eyes wander to the guards on either side of the transparent floor, and above him at the driver. At least that hasn't changed, he thinks, though isn't sure if the confirmation of red circuitry is a good thing or a bad thing. Probably bad, he thinks.
The ride to the familiar, wide platform doesn't take long, but he takes the chance to get a better look at the city below, and is surprised at what he sees. The city is intact, for the most part, which means his father's reintegration with Clu hadn't destroyed it, but there were some buildings in ruin, fractured coding, failing lights, rubble layering some of the streets. Aftershock? But that doesn't explain why only some of the buildings are like that.
Before he could get too far into thought, the Recognizer was descending, ready to land on the barren docking pad. This time around, none of the programs were sorted through for rectifying, and they all ended up being dragged off to the large elevator.
“What's going on? Don't tell me we're all going-” Sam started, but before he could finish he was shoved into place, and the elevator started it's quick and swift descent with the group of programs on board.
________________________________________________
The room was different. That was the first thing he noticed. Instead of just the one room, it was a wide-long hall with several doorways lined up next to each other. One at a time Sam, and each of the programs, were forced into a separate doorway, a door sliding down from the top of the frame behind him and closing him in. The walls lit up in a bright white, illuminating the hallway before him. Before he got much of any time to think, the floor started moving him forward, and down the seamlessly never ending hallway he went, confusing surfacing on his features.
It didn't take long at all, shorter than he was expecting, to reach another room. Three women were standing in the middle of the closed in room, each dressed the same, hair styled the same, and each staring at him with that same familiar look. “Sirens,” he said aloud, glad to see something else that was familiar. The sirens weren't any that he'd previously met, however, and he didn't see Gem among them. Last time they met he ended up in a free for all fight with the Black Guard and Quorra lost an arm. As much as he didn't really want to see her because of it, it would have been better to see someone familiar than a total stranger with the same getup.
“Don't tell me this is for the games,” he said reluctantly, earning him nothing but the constant stare as the three Sirens closed in on him, inspecting him from head to toe.
“Inspection complete. Program is ready. Head to Games.” said one in a monotonous voice, all three backing up and stepping aside, the wall opposite of him parting to reveal a familiar stream of light.
All Sam could think or say was, “Man, not again,” and walk forward into the engulfing light.
_________________________________________________
“I can't believe he went in like that!” Quorra half yelled to the now empty desk chair sitting in front of her. She walked over to the laser and angled it off to the side before walking over to the desk, taking a seat in the once occupied chair and letting out a frustrated sigh. If he wasn't trusting me with the portal..“I hope you're alright, Sam,” she said softly, letting out a quiet, resigned sigh.
_________________________________________________
He heard the crowd, and music, both gradually getting louder as his transparent cage raised high above the stadium floor. Music? That's a weird addition. His fingers were fidgeting slightly as his 'cage' filtered into a larger box, joined by a program's containment area. “I was afraid of this,” he sighed to himself.
“Battle initiate,” came a monotonous female voice from above, and Sam reached back and pulled his disc free, helmet building up and forming over his head, the yellow program across from him doing the same. “Here we go again.”
________________________________________________
“Seems like our new 'CEO' ran off again,” he heard someone say behind him, causing him to turn around and see who had made the comment. “Mr. Dillinger,” Alan confirmed, hands resting at his sides.
“As smart as I'll give him credit for, he certainly likes to take off whenever he pleases. Makes me worry about this company's future,” Dillinger Jr. said with a slight smugness in his tone, one that Alan was fully aware of.
“I'm sure it was urgent,” Alan replied, not giving an inch in his standpoint.
“I'm sure,” Dillinger said unconvincingly, making his way past the older man, “Let's just hope it doesn't become a permanent habit.”
Alan turned to stare after the younger programmer for a moment, pulling his phone out after the younger man was a decent distance away and sending a text to Sam's cell. Where did you run off to now.
_______________________________________________
Sam quickly dodged the disc that was coming at his face, side stepping to the left and ducking as it headed back to its owner. He threw his own with a brief grunt, running towards the program soon after. The yellow program managed to avoid it but didn't see him running up to it following the throw, and before the program had time to react, Sam caught his disc on the brief turnaround and plunged it into the yellow program's chest. “Sorry, man..” he said quietly, standing straight and looking down at the yellow scattered pixels now layering and settling on the transparent floor, a twinge of regret running through him.
“Combatant Nine. Deresolution. Combatant Seven. Round One Victory.”
But he didn't have time to stop and stare for long. Before he knew it, two other program boxes had joined his, forcing his attention to the circuits of yellow and blue. “..Well. This is new,” he said to himself, taking a defensive position as the other two did the same a distance ahead of him on his left and right.
“Round Two. Initiate.”
A blue disc was hurled in his direction, while a yellow disc was aimed for the blue program. Sam deflected the blue disc with his own, running at the yellow program while the blue one dodged the incoming yellow disc. Sam derezzed the yellow program with relative ease, taking advantage of it being distracted while trying to catch her returning disc. The yellow program, literally, fell to pieces with a yell, making Sam flinch at the sound.
“Combatant Eleven. Deresolution.”
The yell distracted him long enough to not notice the blue disc coming at him fast enough, the buzzing light skimming his shoulder as he tried to move back with its motion. “Gah-!” he let out, throwing his disc in retaliation. Blood slowly crept out over the edge of the black suit, a small, dark red line over the black contours. But thankfully, being in the midst of a battle made it impossible for the other combatant to notice.
The blue program rolled forward and out of the way, catching his disc and throwing it again at Sam, copying his movements from earlier by getting up and running at him right after the throw. Sam caught his disc and charged the program, deflecting its throw again with his disc and then swinging it down towards the program's neck. The program blocked his arm with its own, spinning around and kicking him in the chest, knocking Sam on his back while it caught its' returning disc. He only had time to look up and block with his arms crossed in the air as the blue program came down on him, bringing its' disc down with heavy force. Sam swung his legs up on either side of the program and wrapped them around its' waist, shoving with all of his body weight and rolling the two over, straddling the program briefly before bringing his disc down, cringing slightly as it collided with the blue program's chest, the program itself letting out a distraught, distorted sound just before derezzing below him into a mass of pixelated blue.
Sam slowly rose to his feet, panting faintly with his disc at his side as the voice came from overhead.
“Comabatant Two. Deresolution. Combatant Seven. Round Two Victory.
“Round Three. -”
Sam turned and looked around, shoulders hunching inwards slightly as he saw the three new programs all take their fighting stances. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“- Initiate.”
_________________________________________________
“Hm?” Quorra glanced over at Sam's cellphone, identifying the origins of the buzzing sound that had stirred her out of her reading. Lowering her book down on top of the desk, she reached over with a hand and picked up the device, sliding a finger over the flat surface to light up the screen. “Alan Bradley,” she said aloud, eyes going fractionally wide when she read over the message. Oh no, what do I do?! Sam! She thought in a panic, eyes glancing at the desk quickly before returning to the phone. He doesn't know about the Grid, so I can't just openly tell him where Sam is. And won't he get suspicious if I'm the one who answers Sam's phone?
Quorra let out another frustrated sigh before setting the cellphone back onto the desk, looking back at her book. Maybe if I just ignore it it'll stop.
_________________________________________________
He was panting now, the sound of his blood rushing filling his ears and drowning out the blaring music. The green program had taken out the other two, making quick work of the blue one. The yellow female tried to sneak behind him when he was dealing with the blue one, but the green program made quick work of her. It seemed the only reason he'd dealt with those two first was because they were closest. Now, it was down to just the two of them, staring at each other, poised to strike at any given moment. The only downside to being a user, it seemed, was that he was becoming more and more aware that he needed a break, while the program in front of him was as ready as ever.
_________________________________________________
“You're just in time to see the start before the finale,” said a calm, female voice, eyes remaining trained on the sight before her.”
“Yes, well. I had a fair share of things to deal with while you enjoyed the show for me,” answered a male voice, coming around the flat and three seating section, taking a seat just short of the white haired woman. “How is our..'entertainment' fairing,” he said, the end of his lips coming up in a slight curve as he leaned back against the back of the seat.
“Well enough.”
“And our 'champion'?”
“Compliant. He seems reluctant to do much else.”
“Well, fortunate for us we don't need him to do anything else but fight. I'm sure he'd agree,” he replied, rubbing a pale hand briefly over the patchwork of pixels down toward his right knee, “Nothing else. For now. Not until we have what we need.”
White eyes flickered in the man's direction before glancing up at the distant but radiant light in the sky, returning to the scene before the two of them.
“Put them both in the finale,” he spoke up after a moment, his sly smile angling just that much higher on his lips, “it should make for an interesting battle.”
“Or perhaps you're just being impatient.”
The man gave a short laugh, “Perhaps.”
____________________________________________________________
Sam and the green program were about to launch at each other, before the boxes started shifting again.
“What?” he said aloud, easing up slightly from his position as he let his eyes wander the area.
The two boxes dislocated before lowering down to the floor of the stadium, joining with a large and vacant section. Where I fought Rinzler, he thought to himself, or more like where he kicked my ass.
Three more boxes joined the section on the floor of the arena, releasing two blue programs and another yellow on either side of him, and one on the side of the green program.
“Combatants Three. Five. Seven. Fourteen. Twenty. Versus Rinzler.”
“What?” Sam said aloud, head raising a bit to see a familiar form step out of the shadows across from himself and the programs, eyes widening just a bit at the sight before him.
"Initiate Final Round."
http://shaishda.livejournal.com/938.html Back to the Grid [ Ch. 1 ] | http://shaishda.livejournal.com/1323.html Meeting [ Ch. 3 ]