Chapter 1: The System's Evolving


I wandered through the Outlands. Everything was a blur. I thought back to the beginning of the end. The Black Guard was a ferocious foe, almost as powerful as CLU's coup. They nearly killed me. They nearly killed Flynn. And they nearly killed Anon. The prototype system monitor, fresh from the rez point. They tried to derezz a program that saved hundreds of innocent lives at once from...

Abraxas. The viral infection that ravaged the Grid. CLU said that he was once an ISO. The disc shard that Anon had broken off showed that. But he didn't realize that not all ISOs were corrupted. But he was blind with anger. The anger of Flynn's opposite love for the ISOs... so he tried to kill Flynn. He nearly succeeded, too, with his own prototype. The Black Guard. Only 30 of them on Grid at the time, and 30 of the most dangerous soldiers on it.

Finally, my legs gave way as the energy drained out of them. The world was going black. I saw two figures in the distance. One had blond- brown hair, and was wearing robes to replace his signature jacket. Flynn. So my efforts hadn't been in vain. He lived. The other was a girl. A tattoo was glowing on the side of her arm. An ISO. The one from the installation ceremony. I wasn't going to, live on the other hand. The four squares on my chest were flickering. Flynn helped the girl up, restoring her to full health, and taking her away.

He didn't even notice me. His most trusted system monitor, Tron, abandoned and discarded. Left for dead. I was going to close my eyes, let deresolution take me away. But the energy spring intervened. The ground beneath me sank under my body, and green liquid spilled over my revived body. I wanted to stay there forever, allow the energy to overtake my body.

But I didn't. Collecting the energy needed to survive for several cycles in bottles, I walked towards the wreckage of CLU's VTOL Recognizer. One of thousands, it was commissioned to begin the genocide of the ISO factions. Legs and arms from the sentry pilots were scattered everywhere, mixed with the pile of white particles... wait, white? Looking around some more, I found an ID disc, the same color as the mysterious particles. Picking it up, I scanned the contents, holograms proving my suspicions.

The derezzed program was Anon.

Holding his disc as I paced back and forth, body parts were reassembled in the correct places. If I didn't do this correctly, Anon would appear a completely different program, with limbs in different sockets. After grueling hours of reassembling scattered code, the pixels formed themselves into a familiar figure. The system monitor who could take the fight to CLU himself again. Walking over towards the system monitor, whose blue circuitry had been replaced by white, I handed over his disk and spoke.

"Welcome Back to the Grid, Program."