zero: 00000 [video]
[All the camera shows is Yori's face and a fall of loosely curled blonde hair; she looks brisk and businesslike.]
If this is Flynn's new system, he has got to work on his coding. Does anyone know where I can find an I/O tower? Or-- [She falters, just a fraction.]
Tron? Are you here?
[A hopeful smile, flickering back to friendly neutrality ( Read more... )
If this is Flynn's new system, he has got to work on his coding. Does anyone know where I can find an I/O tower? Or-- [She falters, just a fraction.]
Tron? Are you here?
[A hopeful smile, flickering back to friendly neutrality ( Read more... )
Y- Yori...
[There is a long stretch of silence--or so it would seem except there seems to be some sort of static-y rumbling on the line as if the connection is bad perhaps--before anything else is forthcoming from this id. When the replier finally does speak back up his voice is strained, the already gravelly pitch of his tone only making it that much harder to hear him clearly.]
Y-you're..here. No. [The rumbling noise rises in volume until it sounds distinctly more like a growl than static.] You shouldn't be. Not...here.
[The audio function suddenly cuts off but the connection remains intact. After a long moment text appears on the screen of the phone.]
Not the Grid. Not Flynn's system. No I/O towers.
Tron is not here.
Energy can be found in various places around the city. Alternatively: can be provided in person via exchange if necessary.
This is a part of the User world. [Likely. He wasn't entirely convinced yet. Not like what he remembered.]
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He watched her for a long moment from his hidden vantage point, still debating on whether he really wanted to go through with this or not. He didn't. But he had to.
The conflict hurt. More than it had ever hurt at Sacrosanct; more than when he'd seen Ram alive and well, more than it took to hand his disc over to Flynn that first time, more than as he stood in front of his creator for the first time and denied being Alan-One's program. This was different. So very different.
Rinzler left a crumpling dent in the wall where he punched it just before running off in the opposite direction from the other program.
Half an hour later he wondered back, not even aware that he hoped she was still there, rationalizing that if she were it wasn't ( ... )
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No one seemed to be around, which was presumably a reason for meeting here.
It was very, very dark.
She debated sending a question, but this was the right place. It wasn't as though she had anything more urgent to do.
He'd been delayed, or perhaps he was making certain the area was secure. Either way waiting was the best chance of seeing him.
It was astonishing how so brief a separation, at least on her side, could make Yori feel almost as desperate as the endless long shifts working at the MCP's command, waiting with well-guarded emotion for any faint news of Tron. The same biting fear--what had happened to him?
Yori found a sheltered wall and slid down to sit against it. He would come.]
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He didn't make any noise at first and with his black clothes hiding his features almost completely it was hard to see him coming in the darkness. He seemed to realize he would startle her and so made a bit of noise as he neared.
His rumble quickened pace, rose in pitch and volume, then vibrated back down to normal.]
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In spite of what little she'd heard of Flynn's Grid, her first instinct was to embrace him. She compromised by holding out both hands in welcome. Never mind names.]
Are you all right?
[Which was not a useful question and she knew it even as the words came out; he wasn't all right, that was obvious to anyone. But at least this version seemed to have escaped recent damage.]
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Functional.
[It was the only answer she would get to a question like that. It wasn't a lie, at least.]
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I hope you'll be more careful than your alternate has been, and try to stay that way.
[A more tentative smile, fading fast.]
I've been told a little of what happened on the Grid, as far as Ichigo knew it. With these duplications, alternate worlds... [Yori looked up at him. Tron's face, but far older than she'd ever known him, with a red gleam she could no longer assume was simple disguise.]
If you want to tell me your side of things, now or ever, I'll listen.
But if you don't want to talk about it, I won't ask.
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The easiest thing, therefore, was to do nothing. His silent reply was clear in that regard: he wasn't going to talk about it.]
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Perhaps it was a good sign, for Tron, that Rinzler wouldn't defend any of it, wouldn't even try. Or maybe it only meant he had enough awareness to be hurt by it, and still not enough control to choose freely.
She lifted her eyes to his, striving for a steady gaze.]
What happened...I'm glad that you survived it all, and that you're here.
[She reached, tentatively, for his hand.]
I don't want you to disappear on me.
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