Difference between revisions of "Afraid"

Latest revision as of 16:13, 26 December 2012

The inns in Traverse Town have seen increased patronage since the fall of Manhattan. Most of the survivors have banded together, offering each other mutual support as they face an uncertain future. Some have gone their own way, seeking revenge or lost in their melancholy. But fewer still are simply left at a proverbial crossroads, alone by choice to wrestle with the all-encompassing question: What now?

It is in the last group Alan finds himself.

He slips into his cozy studio room, closing and locking the door securely behind him, and presses his back against the painted wooden surface. He rakes one shaking, black-leather-gloved hand through his hair and releases a long breath that is almost as unsteady. The day has proven to be extremely nerve-wracking, meeting the Programs designated CHIEF and LEXUS entirely by chance at the WildKat Café and somehow--some way--keeping his identity of ‘Alan’ intact throughout the encounter.

But for how much longer can it last?

Alan sharply pushes himself off of the door, pulling his turtleneck off over his head and tossing it carelessly onto the single bed. The jeans follow seconds later and tennis shoes scatter onto the floor in separate directions upon being kicked off. He then slowly turns, regarding the full-length mirror mounted to the wall behind and to his right. Unlike the bare skin of a human, he is clad in the same black leather-like body-suit many have come to attribute to Programs. There is one major difference: there are no active colored circuitry lines that could confirm it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He slowly pulls the glasses off of his face and lets them drop to the floor, leaning forwards and planting his hands on the wall at each side of the mirror’s frame. His purpose was so much simpler to follow before the Darkness invaded The Grid, but now there is so much more at stake than he ever could have realized. The encounter had opened his eyes, forcing him to face the reality he already knows, and left him far more deeply shaken than he has ever felt before.

The enemy--the Darkness--will figure out his secret soon enough, and then what? What will happen to The Grid with him Out and unable to return? What will happen to the Users who will inevitably get caught in the crossfire?

Memories unbidden surface of the conversation between himself and LEXUS, of the Virus’ malevolence seeking release at expense of those around them had he been given a reason--which, fortunately, he did not get and thus left peacefully. The Users were safe afterwards and collateral damage was repairable in the wake of CHIEF’s fight. So why does the whole event still bother him so deeply?

“You are afraid, Program.” He is startled by his own voice despite staring deep into the reflection of his own eyes. “Afraid of what could have been--afraid of what may yet be. But you can‘t stay afraid forever.” His pupils flicker a smoldering bluish-white glow as his jaw tightens, his voice echoing the core question he faces now: “If you truly fight for the Users, how will you face this fear?”

Alan leans forwards still further, touching his forehead to the mirror’s cool reflective surface and closing his eyes. The circular rings within the silver Frisbee-like disc between his shoulder-blades pulse bluish-white once, then his body-suit ripples. Originating from under the disc and spreading outwards like a wave, square pixels of black spin and turn white while bluish-white circuitry lines spread in its wake. Black gloves recede into a white panel at the back of his hands, which become as fleshy as his face.

As he pushes himself back from the mirror to stand up straight, the center of his chest pulses once before leaving behind a ring of light encircling what appears to be four glowing squares arranged like a capital ‘T’. ‘Alan’ opens his eyes and regards himself in the mirror, lifting his chin as his hands tighten into loose fists. Seeing himself--his /true/ self--is the most poignant reminder of all that he can give himself.

He doesn’t know what to do next or where to go, but he cannot stand by and watch while paralyzed by fears of what /could/ be any longer. He knows he must face the Darkness just as he did in The Grid, even if it means standing and fighting alone against it. And oddly enough, he is fine with that.

Later that night, Alan checks out of the inn and disappears into the alleys of Traverse Town, unnoticed by anyone and leaving no trace of himself behind. By morning, Deelel’s mural in District 1 has a footnote hiding in an unpainted corner, glowing without a power source:

TRON lives.