Drifting. Alone. Empty. Everlasting.
The cold slumber crawling over X’s body.
What was this? A dream? A nightmare? A look into the past? The future? But the moment felt real. The embrace was real. Simple. Strange. Complex. Compassionate.
“Who are you?” Hands caressed his face. Bringing him close. A static filled his body. Drowning out the machine. Drawing out the human.
“Did you really forget?”
A voice. Familiar. What was that name again?
X spoke. But there was only a void. An emptiness. Nothing.
“It’s ok, X.”
Deeper. Deeper. Deeper.
He grasped at the hands that touched them. They were brittle. Frail. And when he squeezed, they crumbled away. Into dust. Into nothing.
Eyes fluttered open as he sat atop some sandstone. A blue gaze held across the beautiful lands. A clear beautiful sky across the old features of the Earth. Zero sighed at the familiarity of this place. He remembered it well.
An archaeological dig. One of the many that Zero would visit during the early days of his life.
It was comforting seeing the natural scape of the Badlands as he remembered it decades ago. The ranges that would rise above him, and smooth out like waves of the ocean. Layers upon layers marking the passage of time. To be forgotten. To be remembered. Even if this place was familiar, Zero could not helped but feel he was being led into a false sense of security by the liminal features of the archaeological dig. It was as if it had been abandoned. Left for nature to reclaim it. But at the same time it seemed as if it was still being used.
He stretched out his arms, noticing his armor. Glistening in the sun. Polished. Tender against his skin. Like an old lover embracing each other for the first time in forever. But there was a silence that crawled over his body. A silence that was eating away at him.
The system.
It was silent.
“Zero!” the voice caught him off guard as he spun around to face the noise. He should have noticed it before they even spoke. It frustrated him.
This place made him feel vulnerable. Small. Insignificant.
Dr. Cain stood behind him wearing his typical archaeological gear. The doctor looked younger. The face that Zero remembered when he had been first brought to life. All those many years ago. It was strange to see him this way. “You’re alive…?” he stared at the other shocked.
“Of course I’m not!” Cain replied with a sputter, hands placed firmly at his hips. Zero was taken aback by the vivid reality he was in. How conscious he was of his own death and undeath. Cain must have taken note of Zero’s reaction to his bluntness. Laughter echoing. “You haven’t changed a bit, my boy.” He cracked a smile. Welcoming. Familiar.
Zero’s mouth was agape for a moment. I always hated when he called me that. Quickly, he closed his mouth shut. A posture he always retained when wearing his armor. “Why are you here?”
Cain shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you think your mind would put me here?”
Zero frowned at the frustration of Cain’s answers. Or perhaps he frowned at the frustration knowing that it was his own mind playing these games. “Because…” Zero trailed off not sure how to reply. Did he want to speak the truth? Speak the anguish that he knew was sitting deep within his body? He grit his teeth. Tension. His fingers dug into his palms. “I’m being brought back…” Cain began to clap. A deathly glare was shot towards the doctor. If looks could kill…
“’Atta boy,” he patted Zero’s shoulder making his way down the rocky hillside. Zero followed him closely.
“But why!?” Zero struggled to keep up with the doctor. “I’ve finished what I wanted—What I needed to do.” He slid down some rocky gravel, finding it difficult to keep Cain’s stride. It felt like every step Zero took, the doctor only felt farther away from him. As if someone was pulling him away. Keeping him in place in this mirage. “No one needs me anymore!” he yelled to Cain coming to an abrupt stop.
He watched the doctor stop in his tracks, a small chuckle. “You just don’t realize it yet.” Cain turned around to face Zero. “I already know at least one person who would want you back.”
Zero raised his brow taken aback. The hot sun beat on his brow. The silence ever present. Quieter. Quieter. There was one person. Yet. He could picture his face right now. A smile that revealed his soul. Eyes that danced under the stars. A voice that spun songs of angels. Black hair that fell short of his shoulders. Human-like in every way. Skin that covered every piece of him hiding the machine that lived inside. A moment of peace. A moment of recollection. Happiness.
“Gate.”
The name shocked Zero. Confusion. A gasp as his hands clamped around his throat.
What?
Cain only stared at Zero. The name unfamiliar danced across his body. Even if it felt alien to speak, it held a familiarity that Zero could not understand. A comfort. A yearning. He felt sick to his stomach. Confusion overtook him as he clenched his teeth shut. Cain approached Zero in his confusion. He took a step back but could not escape the doctor’s hand. “Looks like they got you all figured out,” Cain flicked Zero’s blue emblem.
“Ow!” he rubbed his head. Zero glared at the doctor. “Even if I can’t say his name. I know who he is. I know he wants me back, but I know he can handle the world without me.”
“Maybe,” Cain nodded his head. “Not that you can really stop anything that happens to you anymore.”
Zero sneered. “Like I said, old man. I’m dead. There’s no way in hell they can wake me u--.”
Cain pressed a finger to Zero’s lips. Silencing him. “Do you hear that?” He pressed his other hand to his ear. There was silence. A deafening silence. Zero furrowed his brows before shaking his head. “Exactly.”
“You mean… my system?” Zero drew back from Cain, moving his hand to the side. Though the implications that his system was inactive worried him, Zero figured it was because he was dead that it did not bother to stream its consciousness into him. Zero pressed two fingers to the side of his head, closing his eyes to listen to the emptiness of his body. “Yes, its inactive—No.” He heard it. For a moment. A muffled drawl. Only to fade again into nothing. Was it the death throes? A frown. It frustrated him even more that after existing for decades Zero was so unfamiliar with the inner workings of himself. The system was perplexing. He likened it to another ‘self’ that appeared transparent over his own body. The part of him that wanted to kill. The part of him that only imagined death in beauty. The piece of him that was machine. “So what? Just because its inactive doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it was damaged when I died, or maybe I turned it off myself.”
Cain merely smiled at Zero. “So, how does having a silent mind feel?” Cain watched as Zero’s face twisted and turned trying to make out his emotions.
It only took a few seconds to find the right words. “I don’t feel like the same person. I feel more human than machine.”
“How does that feel?”
“Horrible.”
“Horrible,” Cain repeated. “I always took you for the type that would hate being human. You really are a machine.”
Zero was unsure how he felt about being described in such a way. “Why should I need to feel human?” Zero gave a casual shrug. He thought of all the things he wanted to tell X. All those feelings left to be washed away into nothing. It hurt. “I just want to be me. Maybe I’m just a machine meant to kill, but I’m me. Zero.”
“The one and only,” Cain smiled.
“How does he look?” Gate wiped his hands on a towel as Isoc gazed over Zero’s now complete body. Three years it’s been since they began their journey. Three years of pouring over data. Three years of bickering. Three years of planning. And now stood before them perfection, at last. A fully complete body.
Yet Isoc stood far from the table. Watching over Gate’s shoulder at the complete machine. Terrified that he would be the first to be killed in its destruction. “Perfect.” Isoc smiled down at it. “And our virus?”
“Working perfectly.” Gate placed the towel down, bringing up his computer. “Brain wave activity has been more active on average compared to a year ago. Nearly stabilized to begin the process of waking him up.” He pressed a few keys. “His war systems have been distracted by the virus allowing his sub-consciousness to think itself alive.” He pushed the computer towards Isoc, allowing him to read over the results over the year. “He may take notice of it eventually, but by then it will be too late.” Isoc began to scroll down the results as Gate sat patiently.
“I see,” Isoc muttered. “Wolfang has returned with some intel that may provide some use for us. Something about an escort mission. I have compiled the report and will be sending you an e-mail shortly.”
Gate waved his hand, “Take your time. I have some other projects I will be working over the next week so I won’t have time to—”
A sudden gasp.
A deafening silence.
The two scientists stood incredibly still as their gaze slowly crept from the computer towards Zero. Carefully, they watched as Zero’s body lit up in green lights. Watched as the dead turned to living. Watched as the heart pumped more vigorously. Eyes still laid shut, but there was no mistake. The gasp of life. The first breath of existence. Witnessed all here.
And they were terrified.
Both stood still. Both stood horrified.
Waiting.
Watching.
It was not the ethics of their actions that brought them to a stand-still, but rather the mere fact that they stood in a room with a being that could rise from its grave and disembowel them without a care in the world. Stood careful in a den with a hungry lion. Stood still watching the reaper’s scythe press against their necks.
Even if Gate had ensured they would be protected. Even if Isoc had poured every single line of code to ensure their safety. The both of them were unsure if had even ensured their precarious safety.
All Zero needed to do was sit upright. Look at their faces. And allow himself to succumb to his insanity. Succumb to his desires, his instinct, to kill.
Because that was what he truly was. A beast. A machine. A demon.
Both the scientists watched helplessly. Even if they had been prepared for this moment of birth, they stood silent in the agony of fear. Petrified. They breathed hard as they slowly backed away. They hid away in fear. Shaking.
Zero’s face gasped again. Frowning. Cringing. Gritted teeth. A noise. A twisted thought. An unspoken desire. A twisted reality. Recreated into their own perfection. A yearning to speak, to scream, to revel in the agony of birth. The shell had cracked. There was not a sound but merely silence. When Zero’s arms moved Gate and Isoc lurched backwards. Carefully watching from afar the sleeping child shift back into the once coffin and now bed. Back into nothing.
What had they hatched from this egg?
Gate and Isoc breathed hard. Shaking. Watching their creation.
“He’s alive,” Gate whispered. Alive. That is what it was. This was not merely waves on the computer. Not the death throes of pain. This was the creation of life. The miracle of birth.
Laid on the bed was a fetus. Not with blood. Not with yolk. Not with an umbilical cord. But a creature of metal. A creature made from the hands of man. The sin of humanity. The sin of all things.
Neither of them wanted to approach ‘it’.
When he twitched again, they both steeled themselves for the worst. Hiding behind the table like pathetic insects. They scrambled away from the it that laid on the table. Shuffling tables around. Throwing tools to the floor as they knelt beneath the table in fear of what they had birthed.
Years they had prepared for this moment.
But years could not prepare them for the fear that overtook their body.
That was what it was. Fear. Because they knew it could kill him before they even knew what was happening.
It shifted again. Both Isoc and Gate held one another. Pathetic creatures that could barely stand the sight of the angel of death. Even if it took the form of something familiar, it was still an angel.
Nothing happened to them, of course.
“Perhaps we should strap him down.” Isoc sighed as he watched Gate round the table to approach Zero carefully. Even if Gate was the braver of the two he still shook like a leaf in the wind. “I have heard that shadow-play may induce sleepwalking.” Isoc stared warily at the coffin.
“That will only induce panic.” Gate carefully placed a tube back into place. “I don’t want him to wake up in a crazed state. Besides…” he pushed a few fingers against Zero’s right chest. “I have not replaced his other heart that we have been studying. It should keep his body crippled until I have replaced it.”
Isoc slowly approached Zero, still keeping a respectful distance. “You treat him like a porcelain doll.”
“He is, in a way.” Gate mused, taking a seat next to Zero’s body. Eyes stared at the diagnostic data that spilled into the computer. “He is as old as X. Vintage, I guess you can say. Just a machine with the ability to think like a reploid.” He carefully opened Zero’s mouth, flashing a light inside. “I almost feel sorry for him.” Isoc watched as Gate carefully continued his diagnostic work. “We’ll be sure to give him a special place in the world we’re rebuilding.” A smirk.
Isoc brushed his beard looking off into space. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Gate laughed a little, “No. But it’s what he deserves.”
X woke in a state of shock. Head smacked against the glass of his recharge pod with a loud thump! as his battle protocol was sent into action. The feeling crawled down his spine. A monotonous hum permeated his mind as he laid carefully back into the confines of his pod. The drawl echoed faded as X began to sit up, letting the glass slide open. A hand rubbing his forehead in annoyance.
The dream was strange. Lucid almost. It left the remnants of a nightmare. A stinging feeling that stuck to his arms and legs. Shaking him gently into the cold confines of discomfort. Often, he would not seek comfort in the late hours of the night. Only sinking back into his recharge pod to allow himself to ruminate in what dream had transpired and what emotion clung to his skin. But the dream was heavy in his mind. Weighing down into him in the ocean of despair.
“Maybe I should tell Zero…” he murmured. Slowly he rose from his sleep. Dressing himself in a light pair of clothes. Carefully, he dragged himself out his room.
Sometimes an occasional Hunter would pass by him as X walked through the familiar hallways towards Zero’s room. The base was otherwise silent, permeated with the light taps against the floor, doors opening and closing, laughter behind rooms, sometimes moans. Even in these hallways there was not a soul in sight, behind the veil of each room lived the individual lives of each Hunter that chose to live on base. Breathing. Living. The quiet enjoyment of their life.
In these moments, X could not help but smile in reflection. It was always Zero that would visit him in these hours. Knocking upon his door. And X would always answer.
“What do you think it meant?” Zero wondered. X’s gaze holding a sleepy stare at his friend. They sat beside each other. Zero alert. Wakened by the nightmare. X groggy. Pried from his sleep.
“Was it the same man?” X murmured softly to his friend. Zero nodded. “Maybe… he’s like the man that I dream of sometimes.”
Zero turned towards X. “You dream of a man too?”
X nodded his head, slowly. Carefully. Eyes drifting back into sleep. “Yes… Dr. Light. My creator.” Carefully, X smoothed his hand over Zero’s arm. “Sometimes I see visions of the past. I think they’re my siblings.” X felt Zero’s hand. Fingers slowly reaching the other’s tips. “Do you think you have other siblings?”
“I don’t know…” he gently held X’s hand. X could feel the pain wash away. The comfort return as his friend relaxed into his touch. “Sometimes I try to forget the things I see in my dream. They… scare me.”
What did Zero see in those dreams that terrified him so much?
X turned a corner. The familiar room at the end of the hallway. Yet in this joy seeing the familiar door came a dread. A dread that pushed deeper and deeper into X. The hammer knocking against the nails that would build a coffin. Echoing through his soul.
With every step it became louder. That buzzing noise. That agony. The realization of death.
He stopped in front of Zero’s door. His arm raised. Poised to knock on the door like all those times before. Ready to see Zero’s face as he would open his door. Flowing hair draped over his body. The beautiful metallic black that wrapped him in a cool embrace. A welcoming gesture. Would they hug? Would they hold hands once more? Perhaps X would do what Zero was too afraid to. A human and machine, together, at last.
But the tears would only roll down X’s face.
Three years. Three years it has been. Yet, in X’s semi-consciousness state, he chose to step down those familiar steps. Chose to ignore the pain, the anguish. Chose to forget the grief. Ignorant to his own emotions. Ignorant to the coffin in his heart!
He would tell others he had moved on. Yet here he stood. A whimsical fantasy that destined him for pain.
He fled those familiar halls. Fled past once familiar names now replaced with the new. The muffled sobs filling the once empty halls of the barracks. Only drowned out by the happiness behind every door. The joy. The love. The ecstasy. What did they do to deserve everything that X couldn’t? Were they luckier? Were they made differently? Was it God that decided X would be the sufferer?
Soon enough, his feet could no longer bring him forward. The anguish. The pain. It all fell into him. The ache in his heart tore him open. And X desperately pushed every single part of him back in.
Grief.
A soldier of grief.
All he wanted was to love. To cherish. But here he laid. Agonizing over the life he could never have. Twice he saw his friend die to the hunt. Twice he allowed his friend to pass away into the cold nothingness. It should have been him, those many years ago. It should have been him to die. Every day, he could still remember that anguish. That pain. His voice always echoing in his head as he felt his body sink deeper into him.
“I… have to die… for there to be peace…”
What did Zero mean by those words? Three years. Yet there was never a sign of peace from his death. Only the endless suffering. Death, hatred, and the endless wheel of violence. Was this the world that Zero wanted? Was this the world that Zero fought for? There was no peace. Only the saber that called for death. That beckoned his hand to slaughter. That turned X into a person he did not recognize as if possessed by a disease.
“I’m… sorry… X.”
Did he leave with regret? Did he finally shed those tears he never coveted? What did he see in those last moments? What did he feel in those final breaths of life?
“Good…bye…X…”
The halls were filled with the echoes of grief.