Chapter Two

Four Days Prior, Five Hours Earlier

“…And the nature of the Dimensional Area seems constant with the physical aspects of the ‘real world,’ and so in response to its mere existence…”

Yuuichirou yawned and looked at his watch. He had been stuck in this international conference for over an hour; information he had known about long ago swept over him in waves, bringing the threat of sleep with each assault. He tried to hide his disinterest behind a folder, scanning its contents for a fourth time in a desperate attempt to find something new.

Meijin saw the yawn out of the corner of his eye and chuckled softly. “Tired?” he asked softly, his intense gaze never leaving the speaker. “Or bored?”

“Both.” Again Yuuichirou tried to give his full attention to the nervous man making the speech. He was young, foreign, and inexperienced—a deadly combination to any crowd. Yet as the scientist studied the auditorium’s temporary residents, he remembered much of the material being discussed was new to them; many of them were scribbling notes and looked excited. The cynical side of him complained silently about it. The subject they were discussing was dangerous, and mere knowledge of it could threaten the balance of the world as they knew it.

Politics played a large part in anything of this nature, and would certainly be affected by this new technology. Dimensional Areas could be used to summon weapons previously used only for digital wars, and they had learned the hard way the world inside the Dimensional Area, with the digital made solid and real, could have a very damaging impact on the real world it covered. There were many who would be interested in such technology; terrorism alone would be taken to new levels. Yuuichirou frowned. Net mafias had already discovered the power of the new technology and had gleefully taken off with it. That was the purpose of this gathering, to deal with the new problem before it spread.

The social impact of this technology would cause yet another stir. The idea of facing those nameless programs and countless net navis people ordered around without a thought to how the net navi felt about it would be disturbing to many. New laws would be introduced, opposing sides would form. It was just another form of anarchy, carefully hidden behind organized movements and seemingly peaceful lawmakers out to make laws that would please all. You couldn’t pander to everyone and still remain a just society; history had proven that the hard way. The Darkloids were not helping; their declaration of hatred for the human race spread fear and mistrust already. Depending on how this situation turned out, things could go from bad to worse in mere days.

Another issue was that the mere existence of the Dimensional Areas challenged known and widely accepted ideas of matter and physics. Data was data; it was created electronically by physically existing machines. Many scientists had refused to come, maintaining the Dimensional Area technology was a fluke, or faked by overzealous researchers. The very real evidence of the Darkloids’ attacks were either explained away by conspiracy theories or ignored as well. The theories Yuuichirou had been working on for years struck many as impossible.

On one hand, the scientist could sympathize. Technology these days evolved in leaps and bounds; to fall behind was to never catch up again. Cyber terror accelerated the process even more. Hackers such as the former World Three found ways to make mayhem, and the good guys (most notably the understaffed and underpaid Net Agents) found new ways to stop them. As technology charged forward, it became a never-ending cycle.

The Dimensional Area changed all that by making it worse. The Darkloids were just the first; scattered reports of lesser groups taking advantage of the new technology were increasing. Soon they would be done with one problem only to face another group in their place. The only good part, Yuuichirou thought cynically, was that the Darkloids didn’t seem to like the competition. The new groups didn’t seem to be in the public eye for long. It made it easier for supposedly intelligent people to deny the whole thing altogether.

“Oh look, now’s he repeating himself.” Meijin broke the illusion of attentiveness by echoing Yuuichirou’s yawn; unlike his friend, he didn’t bother to be discreet about it. “Damn, it’s too early for this. Why can’t they find better times to schedule these things, like after noon—ow!”

“Hush, you!” hissed a new voice. Yuuichirou raised an inquiring eyebrow at the violent individual intruding on their conversation. She was small, wiry, and practically dressed. Her hair was white and her wrinkles suggested laugh lines which her frown couldn’t disguise. Her Japanese was thickly accented and a glance at her nametag confirmed that she was from Erinsland, a small island off the coast of Ameroupe. Yuuichirou regarded her with interest; he hadn’t noticed her before now, so intent he was on disguising his boredom.

“Ow,” Meijin said again, his voice in a mock whine. “That hurt, Mary.”

“Mary?” Yuuichirou asked, watching as the woman gave his companion a piercing glare.

“Oh, excuse me. Yuuichirou, this is Mary Turner, an expert on subsystems and navi core data. I studied under her briefly on my tour abroad.” Meijin stopped rubbing his head. “Mary, this is Hikari Yuuichirou, one of the most important scientists Japan has.”

“I wouldn’t say tha—” Yuuichirou tried to protest.

“Oh yes, I’ve heard about you. From what I hear, Meijin isn’t exaggerating. For once,” the woman replied. She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I rarely take Meijin’s word on anything without checking it out first. He likes his little jokes from time to time.”

Meijin mumbled something neither one could catch.

“Pay attention now,” Mary said admonishingly, cutting off all chance of further conversation. “This man worked hard on his presentation.”

Yuuichirou was surprised, but he kept his expression blank. Later on, Meijin would inform him that Mary was an extremely blunt person. What was easily mistaken as rudeness was just her nature, and it took some getting used to by those who didn’t know her. Culture shock, Meijin would tell him, was something for other people. Whether she tried to or not, Mary Turner ended up shocking the culture instead.

Then, like a saving angel swooping down from the heavens to proclaim deliverance, Meijin’s PET beeped. Perhaps not as angelic as most would think, but Yuuichirou was searching for anything to save him. Meijin had a similar expression of relief on his face, but that expression was quickly removed when he read the message.

“What?” Yuuichirou asked quietly.

“Read,” Meijin said simply.

Yuuichirou read. A scientist was dead, important research was missing, and there was evidence of a Dimensional Area being involved. The wounds, the report laid out coldheartedly, were caused by an energy-based weapon more powerful than anything in existence. Physical existence, that was. Rough tests and quick cross-checking indicated the source of the weapon could be easily found on the end of a navi’s buster. If true, it was the first official murder caused by net navis—no, the Darkloids.

“Not good,” he murmured. Mary leaned over Meijin’s hunched shoulder, snooping in plain view.

“Keep reading,” Meijin hissed, pulling out a spare PET and tapping rapid commands into it. “Look at what they stole.”

-ooo-

Four Days Prior, Five Hours Later

Pain. When he remembered the moment throughout the passing years, his memories of the actual transformation were never clear, yet the amount of pain he experienced was burned into his mind. To his horror, years after the physical scars disappeared and the mental wounds healed up, he could describe in precise detail the pain to anyone unfortunately enough to ask.

At first, the pain started as a burning sensation, which quickly spread over his skin like hordes of tiny ants, biting at each patch of skin with vengeance. His vision blurred, but he continued to weakly struggle against the force trying to overtake him, a force that no longer had physical form. Then the pain subsided, and a very foolish portion of his brain dared to suggest he had won. Enzan realized he was on his knees in the middle of the storage room’s floor, and he was alone.

Then the agony returned, and his raw throat burned with more screams as he collapsed on the floor, thrashing as he clutched his head. The pain had migrated to the inside of his skull; something, someone was writhing in the deeps of his mind, like a living snake attacking his brain.

“Stop this, please…” he begged, tears rolling down his face.

The answer came back not in words, but with a cocky, arrogant emotion that washed over his despair; its powerful presence shoved his own emotions aside, and for a moment he was the triumphant one, he was the one winning. Then it was gone, and Enzan was left to struggle with the pain once more.

He was losing.

Scream.

“Help me! Someone help me!” Enzan shrieked, his voice erupting in a strong, reaching cry that seemed strange for how weak he was feeling. It was then that he realized the thought had not been his own.

He remembered catching a brief glance at his reflection in the polished metal of a nearby wall. His reflection revealed a face twisted ugly by anguish; his eyes were wide and had lost their blue color. They were now a burning red, and before Enzan lost complete control he realized the piece of the wall he was staring at was the only reflective substance he had seen in the building; everything else was coated with rust and dirt. He had lost before the battle had even begun.

-ooo-

R Rockman entered the room, his steps silent, his gaze watchful. Dark brown eyes swept the room uncertainly as Netto chewed his lower lip. Enzan’s screams had stopped five minutes ago. The thick, old air of the warehouse left a sense of deceptive calm in the twisting corridors and dust-filled rooms. Netto may have been uncertain, but his navi was in control. With the practiced skill of a professional, Rockman stealthily moved on, his eyes missing nothing.

“Stop,” Netto whispered. “Look.”

The wording was needless, for Rockman saw what Netto did in their Cross Fusion state, but now was not the time to deliberate over it. “Two sets of tracks, each heading opposite ways,” Rockman replied softly. “He wanted to make sure we wouldn’t interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?” the operator asked. His navi didn’t answer. Netto shuddered and concentrated on the tracks again. “Searchman is better at this,” he grumbled.

“That pair is more recent,” Rockman said, pointing to the right corridor. “They’re also more pronounced and sloppy, indicating he was carrying something.”

“Are you sure?” Netto asked, suspicious of his navi’s sudden knowledge of tracking.

“No,” Rockman admitted, almost cheerfully. “Let’s go.”

R Rockman followed the right corridor slowly, alert for any more surprises. Rockman expected Dark Blues to have company in the form of another Darkloid. This operation had been too carefully prepared to allow mistakes. Netto was more worried about the state of his head if someone else decided to take a swing at it.

“Netto-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“They’ve stopped.”

R Rockman froze. The tracks did indeed stop in the middle of the corridor. Only dust and cobwebs lay beyond. He looked up as something floated passed his eyes. Bits of rust flaked from the ceiling, and he batted at them instinctively to protect his eyes.

“What did he do, start walking backwards?” Netto complained, rubbing an eye that was unfortunate enough to receive the flake of rust which had slipped past his defenses.

“I don’t think so,” his navi said carefully. R Rockman looked around uneasily. “That wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Then where did he go?”

“Netto-kun, where did the rust come from?”

Slowly and carefully, he looked up again. The cobwebs and rust had been scrapped away in places; deep groves made a trail back down the hall. He whirled, staring at the darkness that was just behind him. This deep into the building, not even the brilliant colors of the Dimensional Area could penetrate the black.

“Are those claw marks? Since when does Dark Blues have claws?”

“Netto-kun, this is probably a trap. Be careful!”

The response was cut off by the sound of footsteps. Loud and echoing, they seemed to fill the air with vibrating sound. He looked around wildly, but nothing was in sight.

“It’s like a ghost,” Netto commented.

“Don’t say that!” Netto could feel a surge of fear run through his navi. R Rockman jumped and looked over his shoulder nervously.

“Are you still afraid of ghosts?”

“I—I’m n-not afraid of ghosts. Aren’t you?”

“I’m not afraid of anything—gwah!”

A cobweb fell from the ceiling and draped itself on R Rockman’s shoulder. Freaked, the navi and operator discarded thought and ran for it. The fused duo did not stop until they had reached the main room. Draped in cobwebs and dust, the leftover machinery was rusted into place; a metal graveyard. As soon as they entered, the footsteps stopped.

There were holes in the ceiling. They allowed the rainbow colors of the Dimensional Area to shine through, illuminating the room with a pulsing glow. In the middle of one of these circles of light was a body, face down and unmoving.

“Enzan!”

-ooo-

Four Days Prior, Earlier

“Look at this!” Yuuichirou hissed, pointing at the PET. “Just look at it!”

“Shh!” Mary put a warning finger to her lips. “The man is still talking.”

“Would you look?” the young scientist replied, shoving the PET at her. “The coding alone is a nightmare!”

“A Dark Synchro Chip?” Meijin read, blinking at the screen. Mary peered over his shoulder. “Haven’t we seen something like this before?”

Yet it was different, he realized as he looked. The second he saw the coding, Meijin could tell. The code resembled what a painted room would look like if someone had hired monkeys to do the job. Strands of Dark Chip and Synchro Chip data were weaved together, melded as if by random. The configurations of both were secrets known by select few. Kuroda must have sold his soul to get his hands on them.

“In theory,” he mused. “This is either a harmless mass of insanely put together bits of data, or an ingenious piece of technology. It’s impossible to tell which by looking at it. But this can’t be what we’ve seen before; the coding’s all wrong.”

“Someone thought it was valuable enough to kill for it,” Yuuichirou said grimly. “Someone not human.”

“Something Darkloid,” Meijin muttered.

Mary stared at them both, lost. “So what does this mean?”

“At the moment, nothing,” Yuuichirou replied. “We have only vague evidence that the Darkloids were involved, and we need to get more information on this… thing before we can decide what to do.”

“The Net Saviors are scheduled to do a recon mission later today,” Meijin said softly. “Should we try to stop it?”

Yuuichirou was silent for a moment, a distant look on his face. “No,” he said finally. “We can’t stop an important mission based on suspicion, especially something as thin as this. The authorities in charge will never go for it.”

“But Hikari-hakase, your son—” Mary stopped when Meijin shook his head at her. Around them, the conference continued on in a slow drone, oblivious.

“My son is needed by his government to fix the problems we adults created,” Yuuichirou commented. His tone lacked bitterness, but then, it lacked every other emotion as well. “Unfortunately, we adults need proof before we can make sensible decisions.”

Meijin and Mary stared at him.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mary,” Meijin said abruptly, shifting. “I have a phone call to make. Hikari-hakase, you should probably get working on this chip. Mary, you’re—”

“Coming with you,” she said confidently. “What?” she added at their surprised looks. “This drivel is enough to bore sheep to sleep. You’re not leaving me out of the action that easily.”

-ooo-

Four Days Prior, Later

“Enzan…” R Rockman carefully tipped the boy over on his back, checking for injuries. Enzan was breathing shallowly, and Netto let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he had thought his fellow Net Savior dead.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he said slowly, checking the white-haired boy for other wounds. “Why would Dark Blues just leave him here for us to find? Why is he still alive? I thought Dark Blues wanted him dead.”

“That’s not the only thing that doesn’t make sense,” Rockmand added. “The Dimensional Area has been up for an awfully long time. It takes both power and a lot of effort to do that, and yet we haven’t seen any other Darkloids. There’s nothing of value here either. So why all this effort?”

“This isn’t right,” Netto agreed. “Oi, Enzan! Can you hear me?” He poked the boy carefully. Enzan did not move, and R Rockman leaned closer to look at the dried blood on his head. “That’s weird. Blood, but no cut? I think we shou—gak!”

A hand at his throat stopped his words. Frozen in surprise, he reacted too late to prevent the grip from tightening into a choke.

“En… zan?”

Slowly, his assailant opened his eyes, the bright red of them burning into Netto’s brown ones. With a smirk, Enzan’s grip tightened.

Author’s Note: Darkloid, Darkloid, I give! It’s Darkloid, and I’ve fixed the earlier chapters to reflect this. Because of new laws on including song lyrics in stories, I have removed them from the version posted here. I could say a lot of things about why it took so damned long to update, but the main culprit was writer’s block, pure and simple. When I do finish this story, there will be a long list of thank yous to the people who helped me finally break it.