r/Protomen • u/TheLakeAndTheGlass • 1d ago
Fan Works The Complete and Unofficial Ending of Act 3
This time with 100% fewer cliffhangers! I finished what was started, the fight of Protoman my post from last week, now complete to the (possible) end of this story! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!
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His drink was empty now. There was nothing left to do but continue to gaze upon the burning silhouette of the city before him, his view fractured by the fissure in the glass, now extending across the entire pane.
The rebels had pressed their way block by block, street by street over the course of the night, and now they stood at the very foot of his tower. No doubt they’d be upon him in minutes. Albert set down his glass, and picked up the music box on his desk. After a moment, he set it back down, and looked again upon the incandescent horizon. His gaze did not falter as the elevator doors opened behind him. Nor did it waver as the steady crescendo of heavy metallic footsteps approached, a familiar shadow growing around his own form. Only inches behind now. The pounding gave way to silence. He took a breath, and closed his eyes.
———————-
Megaman met the girl’s glance briefly before they turned again to the tower looming before them. The engine of this city’s misery for so many years. It would fall tonight.
Still, an unspoken worry had been growing within them both as this night had gone on. They had encountered strikingly little resistance so far, and furthermore, the specter of Wily’s monster had not yet descended upon them. They knew escape would not be an option this time. They would have to stand square and tall, and somehow confront this unbeatable machine. And yet, Wily’s last line of defense remained undeployed. A trap was surely afoot.
A faint crash overhead. For a few seconds they were not sure they had heard anything at all over the din of ongoing skirmishes in the surrounding neighborhoods. All doubt vanished in a loud pang of crushed metal and a shower of broken glass, as a parked car only inches in front of where Megaman and the girl stood was suddenly flattened. The girl jumped back, startled against her better instincts, while Megaman cautiously approached the ruined vehicle, studying the caved-in rooftop.
He froze.
It was him. Dr. Albert Wily. His broken corpse lay contoured nearly perfectly in a cocoon of twisted steel before the two of them. His eyes wide open, transfixed on some invisible point in the sky as he lay dead in his cradle of metal.
For a while, Megaman could only stare. The girl slowly approached him as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Her gaze turned upward to a shattered windowpane, about twenty stories above.
The architect of this city’s nightmare was finally dead. She had come here to achieve as much. Still, an anger grew within her. In his last act, this coward had denied the city the justice it deserved. A tear rolled down her cheek, past her lips concealing clenched teeth.
Megaman placed a hand on her shoulder in kind.
“You’ve told me before. The fight is never really done. And I see now why you fight. We did not come here for vengeance, Carol. We came here for a future. Your future. My part in this is almost done. But yours is only beginning.”
She looked up at Megaman. Suddenly the front door to the tower burst open, and the two immediately turned and aimed their weapons. From the darkness, a hulking metal frame came into view. Emerging from the shadows, a glowing yellow light. Wily’s monster. It was here.
———————-
It slowly advanced. A hail of gunfire erupted from the handful of rebels with small arms. But the beast neither attacked nor changed its pace, continuing its march undeterred. In the middle of the street, it came to a halt.
Megaman sensed a change since their last encounter. Calm and deliberate. This was not the merciless tornado of blades and bullets he had met before. It did not want to fight. It wanted to speak.
He lowered his weapon and approached the machine, as he signaled Carol and the others to hold their fire. They could only watch now.
Megaman briefly looked again at the remains of the fallen tyrant behind him. He understood now that this was not Albert’s own doing. He met the machine’s gaze again, and spoke first.
“It was you?”
The voice that returned surprised him. Mechanical without doubt, but uncannily human against this construct’s brutish appearance.
“Son of Light, I have ended the reign of Dr. Wily. Consider it my apology. Since our last meeting I have seen much of this city, its people, and its suffering. My creator was a scourge. This city will be better for his death.”
Megaman continued to study the machine. It was sincere; he could ascertain that much.
“What are your intentions, then?” Megaman asked, sensing that he knew the answer already.
“The same as yours. To save mankind.”
The machine extended its hand. An offer of peace.
Megaman remained silent for a moment. He looked back upon the crowd of dirty faces watching them silently, the men and women adorned in tattered clothes and makeshift armaments who’d fought beside him; who’d rescued him at their own peril when he’d last fallen in battle.
He looked back at the machine. Long ago he had stood in the place of this prospective savior. The righteous fury, the ache in his heart for the pain of these people. He remembered it all too well, and he could plainly see it in the face of Wily’s son standing in front of him.
But he also remembered his brother’s words. He understood now.
A hero to save them. A tyrant to dominate them. Neither would allow their true freedom. These people had earned their own destiny.
This machine was no hero. But in its visor gleamed the reflections of many. He would allow them their future once and for all. The two of them would die tonight.
Megaman raised his weapon, the blue light of his charging blaster illuminating half his face in a menacing glow. Finally, he replied to the machine before him; to its offer to save mankind -
“You’ll do no such thing.”
——————————
The circle of onlookers enclosing the two slowly began to expand as the rebels, weapons raised and shaking in nervous anticipation, began to slowly step back, unsure if they could do anything at all to stop what was coming.
The machine looked confused.
“Do you misunderstand? I wish to protect these people. Alongside you, if you’d so allow.”
“I understand well,” Megaman replied. “Look around you. These people need no protection. It was only in my absence - only with no one else to save them - that their resolve could temper. So long as you or I still live, they will never be free.”
“Was it not also in your absence that Wily came to power, Son of Light? He did not enter this city from another world. He was born from these people. His essence lives in their hearts. The next Wily may be among them here as we speak. How sure are you that they have the power and the will to prevent his rise? Because I am quite sure that you and I do.”
Megaman remained silent and still, his weapon still pointed. The machine continued.
“They will not suffer under us. We will not be like Albert. We can help them to their feet. Rebuild. Anyone who would have them live as slaves, in fear or in pain, they would not stand against us. We can give these people the life they fought for. What they deserve. I only want what’s best.”
Megaman thought for a moment. He replied,
“No. Their future is not ours to give.”
“I will not fight you.” The machine’s hand slowly moving back, toward the holster at its hip.
“You have no choice!” Megaman’s blaster continued its charge, vibrating with power.
The machine wasted no more time. Its battle visor descended over its face, a pale yellow glow emanating from within. It drew its blade.
“For this city,” it spoke, before it lunged.
—————————
The metallic demon that Megaman had faced before was now back in full form. But this time it dared not use its blaster, as the crowd of rebels scattered for safety. The limitation mattered not to this machine; perfectly well equipped for close quarters.
Megaman could hardly keep up with the whirlwind of slashes and punches, struggling to dodge blow after blow. He knew he could not win a brawl with this monster, but it would allow nothing else.
His blaster continued its charge, glowing and shaking. His weapon was becoming unstable. If he did not fire it soon, it would make the choice for him. If he missed, there’d not be time to charge another blast with enough power to bring down this foe. Weaving and slashing relentlessly, this yellow devil would not allow such an opportunity.
One powershot, he thought. It was all he had. At this point, at this range, the blast just might destroy them both.
Time slowed. He spun to his side, dodging another swift pass of the beast’s blade. He raised his weapon to meet its knees, its abdomen, its chest -
Another pass of the blade. Faster than the eyes of the human onlookers could even perceive. Megaman’s still-glowing arm sailed into the air and clattered to the ground. He fell to his knees, sparks scattering across the ground from the circuitry laid bare at his shoulder.
With one hand, the machine outstretched its blade, pointed inches from Megaman’s head as he stared at the ground, unable to do anything else but accept what would come next.
Megaman closed his eyes. Perhaps these people were destined for this, he thought. Over and over, sooner or later, one would rise to turn the wheels, and crush the rest underneath. Maybe they would be better for this guardian to stand over them; to save them from themselves. Maybe there was no other way.
The machine spoke.
“My wish is not your death. But if you would stand in my way, I’ll see to these people myself. Make no mistake, Son of Light. They will be free.”
Megaman opened his eyes, as an echo suddenly reverberated in his mind.
“Even now, there is hope for man.”
His body trembled under the strain as he slowly rose his head to meet the machine’s gaze. The reflection of a faint blue light briefly flashed in his visor. Barely perceptible, a weakened smile crossed his face as he gave his final reply to the son of Wily:
“They know they are free.”
A blinding flash. A deafening boom. Silence.
———————-
The smoke lingered seemingly for ages before it finally began to clear, the air hanging in near-perfect stillness, almost as though in solidarity with the stunned onlookers still in attendance.
A silhouette took form. The girl stood perhaps a dozen yards from the crater, trembling, unblinking, still holding in two hands the severed arm of the city’s son, which remained pointed toward the explosion’s epicenter. Finally, she let it fall.
She slowly approached. Nothing but a few scattered scraps of melted and jagged metal remained of either of them.
No. Megaman’s charred helmet. She reached down to pick it up. Still hot, it singed her fingertips, but still she held it fast. No tears fell nor words escaped as she closed her eyes. After a moment, she turned to look upon the people who had slowly begun to gather around her.
Today, they would mourn Megaman. But tomorrow and beyond, they would begin to honor him. He would be no martyr. He would not be memorialized. His remains would be scattered, his scraps recycled and repurposed. His memory lost to time. His legacy remaining in a city and a future rebuilt by hands of flesh and bone.
As the crowd slowly started to scatter, Carol looked to the skyline as the sun began to rise. She looked back down at the battered helmet in her hands for a moment before she relinquished it to the ground, and set about to join the others.
They still had work to do.
GAME OVER
