Megaman X (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
usosmall) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
zeros_expanding_chest2023-05-21 11:43 pm
usosmall) wrote in zeros_expanding_chest2023-05-21 11:43 pm
zero forgets the babyleash [X/zero]
Though Doppler and his forces seemed to have been taken care of just a few months ago, the rise of Maverick activity continuing made X anxious. It was why he wanted to investigate this old lab in the middle of a snowfield like this, only taking a small squadron with him to be on the safe side.
He isn’t sure if Sigma is still out there somewhere, or if the rise in incidents were just the remnants of those still loyal to Doppler trying to continue his work.
X adjusts the thick, tarp-like poncho around himself as he enters the lab, keeping his footsteps quiet and instructing the other Maverick Hunters he’d brought with him to do the same. Zero was away on another mission for the time being, though he’d assured him that he would keep his line open just in case anything went awry. Zero usually didn’t break protocol like this for anyone other than X, and vise versa.
It made X feel wanted, and he appreciated that.
Dr. Cain had even insisted to join X on this mission, but X had refused. The Maverick Hunters and X could take care of themselves, but Dr. Cain was getting on in years, and even X had noticed his mobility declining in the past year alone. On the other hand, X understood the need to help, and feeling powerless to contribute. He would relay anything he found to the doctor, allowing him to work as a Navigator for the time being.
For now, however, radio silence. X noticed himself getting lost in his own thoughts too easily as well, and forced himself to focus on the mission at hand.
The lab was dark, and his threat detection wasn’t as sophisticated as Zero’s was, but X had some of the best hearing of any of the Reploids at HQ. He listened for shuffling, doors shutting, footsteps – anything that wasn’t him or his own squad.
Silence.
Had this been a red herring? No… he can see lab equipment, and remnants of Limited experiments on a few of the tables. Someone was definitely here. Or, they had been.
X shuddered at the thought of the Limited coming back, or being reinfected by one of those things. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, and the world didn’t need more evil copies of himself running amuk. X and his squad kept to the shadows, keeping a sharp eye out for anything suspicious. It was easier the deeper they traveled into the lab, the scant blotches of daylight peeking out of the fogged-up windows fading behind them.
Reconnaissance isn’t something he’s particularly attuned to – that was more Zero’s specialty. The few Hunters he’d brought with him were also only B-rank or lower. X had a responsibility to make sure they all got out of here safe and alive, and he would put himself in harm's way if it meant everyone else could escape their their lives and limbs.
X tapped a light on his tarp, and instructed the other Hunters to do the same. They would go a little further, and if they encountered anything major to report, they would retreat and return with an actual combat unit.
It isn’t long before he hears an echoing thump behind him, and one of the Hunters scrambles back, panicking.
“Commander!!”
X spins around, barely having a chance to react before something lands on the ground behind them, the horrible glow of a green, acidic core illuminating the small hallway. The form twitches and frothes at the mouth before more beings drop down all around them, the glow illuminating their forms better and revealing them to be horrible, reanimated corpses of civilian Reploids.
X is quick to form his Buster, but the enemy has them in an awkward pincer in this small hallway. One of the creatures lunges forward at a Hunter, and X immediately fires back, struggling to keep them all in his vision and also look for an escape route.
“Stay close to me!” X calls out, already beginning to radio for backup. “We’ll hold them off until--”
His eyes lock onto one of the zombified creatures, sensitive hearing picking up the familiar whir of a core overloading. The other creatures follow suit, and X and none of the other Hunters have a moment to react before they all detonate at once.
…
………
He isn’t sure how long he’d been laying here, but it was long enough for his joints to have frozen stiff. A thin layer of snow and ice covers what’s left of his armor, the tarp having crystallized and frozen in an awkward lump. Everything around him is a blur of white, black lumps, and static. And X feels…
Very, very cold.
He wheezes once. Twice. Each breath is a struggle as X attempts to dislodge the ice that had built up in his exhaust fans, broken body convulsing a bit with the effort. The Reploid manages to turn his head slightly in the rubble, a horrendous wet wheeze shuddering out of him as he realizes that it wasn’t just ice that had clogged up his vents.
Black, shimmering in the setting sun. Oil. His oil.
Was… was he hurt? What had happened? Where was his squad? He came here with other Reploids, didn’t he…?
X struggles against the pain and the cold to focus, but he can already feel his consciousness escaping him once more. Can't move. Felt like something was pinning his limbs into the snow. Weakness, or ice. Or both. Had to… alert someone what happened. Distress signal. Someone to come help.
Zero.
At first, he calls out, a strained, static-filled whisper that immediately gets overpowered by the howling wind. ...right. He's not gonna hear that.
A message? He can't pull up his own console long enough to compose anything. This is... really bad. He didn't want to die here. He wasn't supposed to.
Had to…
He can feel his injured form shaking, a generic SOS the first thing his processor can grab in its failing state. 'Unit down', but no location, no specifics. That’ll have to do. He can’t…
...stay…
…
The last thing his hearing registers is the crunch of his helmet against loose ice.
He isn’t sure if Sigma is still out there somewhere, or if the rise in incidents were just the remnants of those still loyal to Doppler trying to continue his work.
X adjusts the thick, tarp-like poncho around himself as he enters the lab, keeping his footsteps quiet and instructing the other Maverick Hunters he’d brought with him to do the same. Zero was away on another mission for the time being, though he’d assured him that he would keep his line open just in case anything went awry. Zero usually didn’t break protocol like this for anyone other than X, and vise versa.
It made X feel wanted, and he appreciated that.
Dr. Cain had even insisted to join X on this mission, but X had refused. The Maverick Hunters and X could take care of themselves, but Dr. Cain was getting on in years, and even X had noticed his mobility declining in the past year alone. On the other hand, X understood the need to help, and feeling powerless to contribute. He would relay anything he found to the doctor, allowing him to work as a Navigator for the time being.
For now, however, radio silence. X noticed himself getting lost in his own thoughts too easily as well, and forced himself to focus on the mission at hand.
The lab was dark, and his threat detection wasn’t as sophisticated as Zero’s was, but X had some of the best hearing of any of the Reploids at HQ. He listened for shuffling, doors shutting, footsteps – anything that wasn’t him or his own squad.
Silence.
Had this been a red herring? No… he can see lab equipment, and remnants of Limited experiments on a few of the tables. Someone was definitely here. Or, they had been.
X shuddered at the thought of the Limited coming back, or being reinfected by one of those things. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, and the world didn’t need more evil copies of himself running amuk. X and his squad kept to the shadows, keeping a sharp eye out for anything suspicious. It was easier the deeper they traveled into the lab, the scant blotches of daylight peeking out of the fogged-up windows fading behind them.
Reconnaissance isn’t something he’s particularly attuned to – that was more Zero’s specialty. The few Hunters he’d brought with him were also only B-rank or lower. X had a responsibility to make sure they all got out of here safe and alive, and he would put himself in harm's way if it meant everyone else could escape their their lives and limbs.
X tapped a light on his tarp, and instructed the other Hunters to do the same. They would go a little further, and if they encountered anything major to report, they would retreat and return with an actual combat unit.
It isn’t long before he hears an echoing thump behind him, and one of the Hunters scrambles back, panicking.
“Commander!!”
X spins around, barely having a chance to react before something lands on the ground behind them, the horrible glow of a green, acidic core illuminating the small hallway. The form twitches and frothes at the mouth before more beings drop down all around them, the glow illuminating their forms better and revealing them to be horrible, reanimated corpses of civilian Reploids.
X is quick to form his Buster, but the enemy has them in an awkward pincer in this small hallway. One of the creatures lunges forward at a Hunter, and X immediately fires back, struggling to keep them all in his vision and also look for an escape route.
“Stay close to me!” X calls out, already beginning to radio for backup. “We’ll hold them off until--”
His eyes lock onto one of the zombified creatures, sensitive hearing picking up the familiar whir of a core overloading. The other creatures follow suit, and X and none of the other Hunters have a moment to react before they all detonate at once.
…
………
He isn’t sure how long he’d been laying here, but it was long enough for his joints to have frozen stiff. A thin layer of snow and ice covers what’s left of his armor, the tarp having crystallized and frozen in an awkward lump. Everything around him is a blur of white, black lumps, and static. And X feels…
Very, very cold.
He wheezes once. Twice. Each breath is a struggle as X attempts to dislodge the ice that had built up in his exhaust fans, broken body convulsing a bit with the effort. The Reploid manages to turn his head slightly in the rubble, a horrendous wet wheeze shuddering out of him as he realizes that it wasn’t just ice that had clogged up his vents.
Black, shimmering in the setting sun. Oil. His oil.
Was… was he hurt? What had happened? Where was his squad? He came here with other Reploids, didn’t he…?
X struggles against the pain and the cold to focus, but he can already feel his consciousness escaping him once more. Can't move. Felt like something was pinning his limbs into the snow. Weakness, or ice. Or both. Had to… alert someone what happened. Distress signal. Someone to come help.
Zero.
At first, he calls out, a strained, static-filled whisper that immediately gets overpowered by the howling wind. ...right. He's not gonna hear that.
A message? He can't pull up his own console long enough to compose anything. This is... really bad. He didn't want to die here. He wasn't supposed to.
Had to…
He can feel his injured form shaking, a generic SOS the first thing his processor can grab in its failing state. 'Unit down', but no location, no specifics. That’ll have to do. He can’t…
...stay…
…
The last thing his hearing registers is the crunch of his helmet against loose ice.