Mini-Fill "Forgiven" (Part 3)allronix1July 5 2011, 10:56:05 UTC
The ruins of the Arena were just like they were last time. Alan tried the search the maze of twisted passages through the complex, but he could only run so fast. He was in good shape for sixty, but he was still sixty.
The first room he checked was the old “re-purposing room.” Nothing was there except the crumbling remains of the old torture device. He remembered the last time he was here, getting hit with the truth.
"A thousand cycles, Alan-1. Almost twenty of your years I spent trapped in the form of a monster; unable to stop myself, unable to fight back When I was strapped to that rack, bleeding data and in pain, you were the last thing I forgot. I screamed for you until my voice was gone."
Alan shook his head. No time to get caught up in despair. Where could he find...? That's right. Despite it all, he was still a User here.
Tron: Location Query...
Instead of a dry digital readout, Alan was hit with the vision of Tron standing in what looked to be the remains of Clu's private skybox on the arena's upper deck.
After traveling up the ramps leading to the upper deck, Alan was pleasantly surprised to find out his instincts were correct. The small skybox must have been richly appointed once - scraps and bits of digital artwork lay in ruins and a broken sofa was shoved to one side of the room. Tron stood, looking out over the arena where the gladiatorial matches were once held.
“I sensed your query, Alan-1,” Tron said, not bothering to turn around. “I thought you wanted nothing further to do with me.”
“That's not true, Tron.”
“I also told you that I owe you nothing further.”
Alan sighed. “You don't owe me anything. You're right. However, I owe you.”
A pause. Even with his back turned, Alan could imagine the slight scowl on Tron's face. “I don't think I understand.”
The first room he checked was the old “re-purposing room.” Nothing was there except the crumbling remains of the old torture device. He remembered the last time he was here, getting hit with the truth.
"A thousand cycles, Alan-1. Almost twenty of your years I spent trapped in the form of a monster; unable to stop myself, unable to fight back When I was strapped to that rack, bleeding data and in pain, you were the last thing I forgot. I screamed for you until my voice was gone."
Alan shook his head. No time to get caught up in despair. Where could he find...? That's right. Despite it all, he was still a User here.
Tron: Location Query...
Instead of a dry digital readout, Alan was hit with the vision of Tron standing in what looked to be the remains of Clu's private skybox on the arena's upper deck.
After traveling up the ramps leading to the upper deck, Alan was pleasantly surprised to find out his instincts were correct. The small skybox must have been richly appointed once - scraps and bits of digital artwork lay in ruins and a broken sofa was shoved to one side of the room. Tron stood, looking out over the arena where the gladiatorial matches were once held.
“I sensed your query, Alan-1,” Tron said, not bothering to turn around. “I thought you wanted nothing further to do with me.”
“That's not true, Tron.”
“I also told you that I owe you nothing further.”
Alan sighed. “You don't owe me anything. You're right. However, I owe you.”
A pause. Even with his back turned, Alan could imagine the slight scowl on Tron's face. “I don't think I understand.”
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