The Newcomer
| The Newcomer | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 15 February 2014 |
| Location: | The Grid |
| Synopsis: | Warden makes new plans and new friends |
| Cast of Characters: | Warden Thache |
A disc arced away from the walls that contained the fight between two programs in a relatively small arena. It arced in towards its target, one that jerked out of the way just in time. Glimmering blue crossed close enough in front of him that he saw the after-image as a gleaming streak across his vision for several seconds.
The crowd roared.
Adrenaline or the electronic equivalent of it tore down electron bone and digital muscle. He recovered in moment, just as his opponent caught his disc. The opposing program settled into a defensive stance, biding his time. Waiting for him as the newcomer to make a mistake. The newcomer to the Games didn’t make mistakes though. At least he hadn’t yet. He was after all still alive.
He leapt forwards, trailing green as he moved forwards at full speed. That green color marked him as something different from the more standard blue. He could tell how his opponent tracked him by the movement of the blank-faced helmet. He angled away from a direct charge, aiming towards once wall. His opponent let fly.
All according to plan.
The incoming disc rebounded from the shields an inch from his head. Not one program in a thousand would be able to grab the thing at just the right angle at just the right moment to avoid losing a limb. He wasn’t quite a program however. He of course, cheated..
There was a collective gasp from the audience as he snagged hold of his opponents disc. A moment of shock and surprise as he used the wall as a springboard to gain the extra distance. There was a flash of green and blue as he blazed by his opponent, and then nothing was left but scattered voxels of a derezzing program.
The crowd went wild.
It had taken him days to get to this point, but he felt confident as he returned to the holding cells for the incarcerated programs. He was gaining a name for himself, and he knew what that went. One thing was a constant in a prison. There was always a pecking order.
He sat with his head laid against the wall of his cell, and he knew what was coming. The sound of heavy footsteps was always the same. The tromping cadence promising imminent violence. He cracked one eye open to find them, a trio of men. All three with the green-gleam of military programs. One older one on the left, the other two younger. All large. Fast. Powerful. He knew the type
“Hey. You. New boy.” One of the younger looking ones barked.
He smiled. Without even a hint of warning he burst into motion, he flew from his position, throwing himself first at the younger one in the lead. A quick knee to the chin knocked him down and he continued on his angle, crashing into the older program. They rolled across the floor as others stood in shock. He ripped his disc free, the gleaming edge punching down and stopping a hair’s breath from the aged military program’s neck.
“Now,” His voice was smooth, full of nothing but confidence and ice. The disc never even moved a breath. “I have your attention.” Green eyes flicked up to check and he could see it was true. All eyes were on him. He smiled again, revealing teeth in a feline expression. “Greetings programs, my name is Warden. I’m here to give you a choice.”
“You’re here to die in the games,” One of the other programs snapped back. His anger palpable.
“Oh I don’t plan on it.” Warden replied before flickering his gaze down once again towards the military program he had at his mercy. “We are all here why? Because CLU or the MCP has said that we are all obsolete, useless, junk code, glitches. We aren't needed in the new system are we? So we are sent here. To fight and die for their pleasure. Well…” Again that feline smile crawled across his features. “...I won’t be doing that anymore. I won’t be giving in to them. I don’t know about any of you, but I’ve had enough.”
“What other choice do we have? If we leave here we are good as derezzed!”
“And if you stay you’re the same,” Warden pointed out with a shrug of one shoulder. “At least you’ll be derezzed doing something other than fighting for their pleasure. I can give you all a choice. A purpose. You give me three days.” That grin, that confidence never faded. “I can give you all, as many of you as take up my offer at least, something new. If I’m lying? You can always derezz me afterwards.”
He stood, pulling the gleaming edge of his weapon away from the throat of the older program. Warden’s hand reached down to help the figure to his feet. There was anger in the older program’s gaze, but there was also curiosity. The air felt charged as Warden waited for an answer.
“Three days,” The old program growled out. “Three days. Then I derezz you myself.”
“Bargained well and done! Three days or death. I can live with that.” Cried Warden as his disc was slipped away and he smirked, eyes raking the gathered programs. “Now...all I need is someone who can pilot a carrier…”
