R.O.C.K On!

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Just stop already- I'm tired, you're tired, and we're NOT gonna find him.

"Ah, dammit," Cormag panted. After a short pursuit of the the shadowy figure, Cormag had demerged from Model F to reduce suspicion, unaware of the yet stranger figures he had left behind. It was hopeless, though, as Model F was NOT designed for reconnaissance. "Guess I need to report to the officer anyways," Cormag lamented, checking his watch- broken. Muttering a curse, Cormag glanced up into the sky to discern the time of day. Seemed to be close to midday, given the time he last checked, 10:27 a.m. That was before the Maverick attack today. Everything's just turning on a dime this day...

And as he gazed from the sky to look idly around, his Biometal stashed in his sidebag, Cormag caught a glimpse. A glint of something in a shadowy alley he hadn't noticed. With a lean forward, Cormag squinted- there! He dashed forward, an ember of surefire confidence pressing to investigate.

Oh no, please, don't tell me-

"The signal, Mother's Call, has been activated. I've received coordinates to the meeting spot."

Tell you what? That I found him?

Model F didn't get the chance to respond as Cormag blocked him off, finding the vaguely recognizable outline of the Model S Biomatch. He seemed to be investigating his floating Biometal, muttering incoherently, probably talking mentally with the device.

CORMAG! Forget about Model S, we'll find him later. I'm getting an important signal-

Ow, jeez, you don't need to yell.

Clearly I do, given you're not listening-

"It's on an island, apparently. Unfortunately, my design means I can't exactly sustain flight over a large body of water. And, no, my shurikens can't act like propeller blades. No zany schemes, Iscariot. Before you almost die again."

"Ooh. Got in a bad spot, have I?" Cormag spoke out to the shadow pair. "To your credit, though, you were hard to find. Now, how about you tell me exactly who you are?" The flame Biomatch semi-asked, semi-threatened, with a right hand spidering around his buster handgun.
 
"Oh no." Model S turned to Cormag standing in the distance, and if he had arms they'd probably be cradling his face. "No, no. That's not a very--" the Biometal attempted to warn him, but Iscariot sent an arm towards the Biometal and wrapped his fingers around Model S, turning around so that he and Cormag were facing one another. The shadows danced upon Iscariot's face, hiding his exact details, but the man's scowl was spared from its veil.

"That wouldn't be very smart. Try if you feel you must, but there won't be a second shot." spoke Iscariot, having observed where Cormag had hung a hand. His own, the hand that held Model S, hung loose at his side. Iscariot was either completely underestimating this newcomer, or was wishing to merely observe Cormag's choices first. It's always been hard to tell from his face and vital readings alone. They changed, but shifted ever so slightly Model S couldn't make out their reasons, if any. Like the contents of a shadow, always drenched in black. "Don't think I wouldn't dare draw a sword against another Biomatch. You're still being evaluated." threatened Iscariot.
 
The shadowy man did well not to make his identity discernible, much to Cormag's annoyance. But the threat seemed at least some degree legitimate, coming from this kind of person. Did he even have a sword, or was that when he was merged? A visual once-over from Cormag seemed to suggest otherwise, but there was no way to be fully sure. Whatever the case, this covert individual was intent to fight Model F's Biomatch, if not kill him. Who knows if he'd done this before...?

Donning a far more serious expression, Cormag retorted flatly, "So, I think it goes without saying we'd easily try and murder each other, Biometals or not. But what I would like is answers, and nobody's been handing them out easily." With a shrug transitioning into a cross-armed stonewall, Cormag stared down the other man's darkened face. "So tell me what you know about the Biometals already, and maybe I won't label you as a threat."

Now that he wasn't in a position to instantly draw his busters, Cormag held a slight combat disadvantage against the man actively wielding his Biometal. Not that Cormag would acknowledge that would be a difference when it came down to a brawl.
 
Luna got up in time for work. She headed off, hearing from I about the signal. Both of them decided it would be best to wait for after work. Luna was pretty mad at Caramon for not being there but she was glad she got up with enough time to get to work. She was tired though, her bosses seemed to notice and asked her what was up. When she explained that her apartment was destroyed in the attack the day before. Without waiting for further explanation they told her to go home and take the next two weeks off. She headed out with a sigh, it was still pretty early and all she wanted was sleep.
 
" Yeah Ludus is my name " he grunted his head hanging down and then snapping back up, " Who was that guy? and why was he able re create the same shot you shot at him " he looked over at her. His power was actually immense and it bothered ludus as maybe he could become that strong one of these days, it was mind bogling how his shield worked and how strong it was to. ' I SWEAR IF I HAD ARMS I WOULD STRANGLE YOU RIGHT NOW! ' ludus was shocked at what he just heard outloud from boxy " Calm down boxy, is it because your name is boxy? you want a better name? alright how about BoD, yeah BoD sounds good, no no Lee yeah Lee is better " he nodded his head smirking. ' What the hell Lee is like a girls name! ' " It means Life ending energy, tada cool name right " he looked up at marti.
 
His face and stature ever the puzzles they were, Iscariot stepped out from the small patch of darkness granted from above. Though it was unseen due to the shades he wore, the man looked over Cormag when he folded his arms, wondering what trickery the goggled man would have following next. Why else would he have taken such an insecure stance? Model F, was, according to his Biometal, one of the more brutish ones. What are the odds that its Biomatch would take to a diplomatic initiative? He'd expected Cormag to trained a weapon of him, which would've ended things on a much quicker note. Perhaps he was the one who didn't catch it very well, but personality was supposed to play in the choice of the Biomatch for these Biometals. That is, if Model S explained it right. Nevertheless, Iscariot kept in mind that Cormag was a fellow Biomatch, and that their mysterious benefactor would surely have plans that would draw from their union.

Iscariot let out a silent chuckle, finding it ironically hilarious how a team of Mega Men looked so much like the 'Justice Rangers' he'd looked up to as a child.

"It's not in my place to answer to that question. I held a chance to be in the inner workings, but it seems I've been deemed too incompetent for such a placing." replied Iscariot, slightly surprised when his Biometal started to wriggle in his grasp.

"What?? Didn't you receive the signal too, F?" Model S asked in his electronic voice, ceasing his struggle when Iscariot held him up to face level, facing Cormag. "You didn't tell him yet?" the small device asked, feeling like breaking out into a lecture but opting to let Model F speak instead.
 
"Totally. One of my neighbors' names is Lee and he is a badass martial artist." Marti stressed the he part of her sentence hoping to reassure the biometal. "As for that guy... I have no clue who he was or how he could do any of what he did. It was crazy to see a robot of his power..." She smiled when they reached her garage and pulled the door up to lead Ludus inside. "Welcome to la casa de Marti. Here, you can sit on the cot and I'll go grab Ingo and he'll fix up your arm. Just... stay here, alright?" She didn't even wait for confirmation before moving the door that led to the stairs and running up them, closing the door to her garage and locking it. That left Ludus and Lee alone with X.

Lee sounds like a cool name, A. Sorry for teasing you earlier. I just thought Boxy was funny and fun to say. X apologized, activating his hovers as he floated around the two. The biometal flew around the whole room, avoiding strewn tools and the completely messed up bike that sat in the corner.
 
In response to Model S was a muffled voice and some shifting inside Cormag's sidebag, before Model F's voice echoed through the Biomatches' minds. Well, I was TRYING to, but the kid's not a beserker, just really damn stubborn. And I thought this obligation would be a good- Look, Cormag, you must've heard the news from Model S already, right? Mother's Call, some island off the coast? Let's just go, there's no point to sticking around-

Model F had hardly finished before Cormag had opened his bag and pulled out the Biometal, jutting it out in front of him to mirror the other Biomatch. "I'm not going to walk into a trap before at least knowing what I'm getting into with you," Cormag gruffly lamented in regard to the relic in his right hand. "It's practically my job to destroy Mavericks in this city already. If you can tell me what this out-of-the-way venture gets us, then perhaps I'll consider going."

"Okay, so I don't know, but neither do they! "I- Excuse me!?" We're just crystallized soul data in a metal shell, nothing more! We don't know what we're doing beyond what we're already meant to do! But this mission can solve that-"

"No," Cormag barked with a hint of annoyance pinching his voice. "I'm not doing this for YOUR sake, you hunk of smart-ass iron! Why should I risk MY life and MY future for the sake of yours!?"

"Last time I checked, your future had you with a set of broken ribs, a limp arm and a case of shellshock. You don't expect to do THAT forever, do you?"

Cormag's grip tightened painfully upon the Biometal, an angering face growling out. Model F seemed to have both a logical AND an emotional chokehold on his Biomatch, which, all things considered, was NOT a good idea. The man seemed about ready to lash out in rage and wreck something valuable, if he wasn't careful. "...Oh. Crap."
 
"Hey, that's not-" Model S tried to speak out against the tension building up between the two, but a mere two words silenced all his efforts, still in their quickening. And before the relic could utter another word, the shadows had come to life and the maw of black beneath them rose skyward and devoured both metal and flesh as a low screech pierced the uneasy silence, echoing silently throughout the alleys.

"Rock. On." Iscariot had spoken moments ago. The throne of shadows fell back to earth, and in its place the purple armored man stood, his blood-red eyes glowering at the dissonant duo before him. It was time to make something right, thought Iscariot. There was something beyond dedication to duty in Cormag's voice. Something beyond simple anger and rage. Something that coursed through his own veins years ago, and it was the first time in all the years that Iscariot felt like he could understand what he was seeing. Flicking a wrist, a beam blade in the shape of a cross lit up and began to whirl atop Iscariot's gauntlet, spinning with enough force to stir up dust and dirt.

"Iscariot. You're more prone to settling on something out of line than him. Stand down, he's not about to-" Model S spoke to the man, whose eyes were set forward. However, like many a time before, his Biomatch interrupted.

"Just play along." said Iscariot under his breath, launching a giant beam shuriken at Cormag with a lash of the hand. The trajectory meant that the projectile would fly upwards in a curve and dissipate harmlessly into the air, and it was not his fastest throw by far. For the time being, Iscariot needed something to snap Cormag out of his blind anger. The true nature of the Biometals were unclear, even to him, but if one were to be destroyed it could very well be worth a terrible loss to the world.
 
The energy star whirred forwards, towards a quarry it did not intend to hit. Cormag, of course, saw it coming. The Shadow Megaman had clearly had enough of the attitude, and intended to silence him. Draw swords against a Biomatch, indeed. In the few moments that passed, Cormag squatted down and forward, allowing the shuriken to go wide. Cormag had switched his forward arm to his left, covering the lower half of his face in the lean, while the right arm was thrown aside and up, Model F with it. The momentum quickly reversed, Cormag swinging his torso around to let his left arm evade his right one, which looked intent to crash right into the alley asphalt.

"R.O.C.K. ON!"

The impact almost seemed to tear open a vein of flame in the earth as a cyclonic pillar of fire engulfed Cormag in an instant. The molten energy swirled and twisted for a scant few seconds before twisting itself apart, the swirls of orange lapping themselves out against the surrounding concrete. The remaining figure glowed white hot with power, allowing the air to crescendo the heat into red, then orange, and then nothing. What was left was Cormag Model F, the Flame Megaman, with a fist firmly planted into the scorched storm of cracks in the alley ground.

One glance up, and Cormag flung his stance upwards, rearing back and up and then forward again to tear off the knuckle-busters, the weapons expanding from their concision form upon the Biomatch's shoulder blades. The two massive firearms were both pointed at Model S, the guns' red-jewel eyes pulsing with hot energy. "So, then," Cormag snarled in challenge, "You gonna give me a reason to fight?"

I don't approve of this, I- Shut up.
 
Wordlessly, Iscariot lowered into a crouched stance and dashed forward leaving waves of shadows that seemed to come to life where he once stood, waves of darkness that jut upwards like the lower jaw of a beast and followed him in the wake of his rush towards his enemy. The shadow man's incoming figure was not unlike a specter, seemingly unbound by nature, as his outlines struggled and ceased at the same time against the countless blades of light that showered the world and those in it, him included. The two long bits of cloth that trailed behind him, in the center of all the anomaly that is the man himself, left strange, afterimages of red as they billowed.

Iscariot closed the distance between him and Cormag in mere seconds, and in the next his face sprung to life just as his shoulders were mere inches away from Model F's twin busters. A pair of red, inhuman eyes looked into the Flame Megaman's own, as a single word resounded from behind the Shadow Megaman's faceplate.

"No." snarled Iscariot, a guttural sound. The edge of his fingers had merely tapped the twin buster's barrels when Iscariot just... disappeared. For a quarter, nay, even smaller fraction of a second, a curtain of darkness dropped on Iscariot and faded into thin air, taking Iscariot along with it. The wave of shadows crashed into Cormag, but the wave was not capable of harm, only to disorient.

Iscariot appeared upside down behind Cormag, his body curled in a somersaulting position as he spun around to face Cormag's back and sent his arms out to his side, creating two dozens of beam kunais that hung in the air in front of him. Moments later, the projectiles flew forward at high speeds, aiming for Cormag's joints.
 
On the way home she started thinking about different ways to ignore Caramon, then again it's hard to ignore your own fiancee. She gave a soft sigh, stopping for a moment near a hair salon. Then I had a brilliant idea.

"Luna! You know how blonde isn't your natural hair color? How about you dye it! Make it something crazy!!! Imagine what he'd say to that! He doesn't even know your natural hair color," I giggled.

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. It WOULD be a nice change of pace and certainly baffle Caramon. Besides, she was starting this whole new chapter in her life. She was I's biomatch and was going to get married. The thought of Caramon's face made her laugh and she went in, explaining that she wanted bright blue hair. She decided that once that was done, she'd try to head towards that signal I had told her about.

((I forgot what picture I had used for the character >.<))
 
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Caramon looked at himself in the restroom mirror after his patrons and customers had left, noticing that his blonde hair was peeking out from his crimson dye before deciding to stop by the usual salon after he and Z had finished what they were doing.

As he was seated with his usual "artist", as she liked to be called, he noticed that there was a girl not far from him, seated about two down from him, just close enough to see her and what she was having done, but too far to make out any distinguishing features, that was getting her hair dyed a blue that reminded him of the ocean's gentle waves.

"I bet Luna'd look adorable with that color." he said to Z, quietly, yet still aloud, "She looks good in green, and blonde does suit her, but I wouldn't mind her going with something else. As long as she doesn't find out I'm really blonde, I'll be happy."
'By your demeaner and actions, I think she might already know, Caramon.' Z teased, a friendly tone to his voice, despite the circumstances.
"And just what does that mean?" Caramon demanded, a stern look on his face, as he smiled when the young woman came over and began his session.

Three Hours Prior....

'Are you sure you wanna do this without Luna? You promised you'd do this with her after she got back from work.' Z said, a questioning tone to his voice, as Caramon put the finishing touches on a blank-slate computer he put together with a few leftover components around the shop.

Caramon's stern look shifted into one of understanding as he started up the computer, wiping his sweaty palms on his clothes before answering.
"We need to know what this is now, because if it is what I think it is, I need to find a way to cure it as soon as possible, so that Luna won't have to worry anymore."
'Which is why we need Luna here. She knows better about this kind of thing than anyone, which is why it'd be best to do this with her here.' Z retorted, reassuringly.

Caramon plugged his arm into the computer via a small cable he'd made into it so that it could house data, ignoring Z's request as bits and strands of code littered the screen.
"Can you make any sense of this, Z?" Caramon asked his partner as he tried to decipher what was going on on the screen. "All I can make out are 'free', 'Maverick', 'die', 'kill', 'home', 'return', 'hate', 'Zero', and 'Master'."
Z was silent for a moment, thinking of what the words could mean, as well as looking to see if something else could be found, then he saw something that made him stop as he read it aloud. 'Gate.'

Caramon didn't understand what Z was talking about, so he decided to ask. "What's 'Gate'?"
'It's not a what, but a who. Gate's the one who created a clone of me using some of my DNA and a special virus he'd developed that would take over Reploids in their sleep and cause them to have nightmares before rewriting their personality matrix completely and take control of them.'

Z sighed as he continued.
'As it spread, it became known as the Nightmare Phenomenon, since so many poor Reploids were falling prey to the virus. X finally defeated my clone, but the virus still lived. Unlike the Sigma, a.k.a. Maverick, Virus, it can live on when its host dies until it finds a new one to control,'
A snarky tone entered Z's voice, then slowly turned to one of pity.
'which is why you're lucky you changed back when you did, or we'd've both been infected by it. What surprises me is that you can still use that arm. It must be because your real one's still under there, otherwise you'd've probably had to cut it off to sever the connection where it was rooted.'

As Caramon took it all in he decided to start working on a code of his own in an attempt to counter the virus, or at the very least, help him keep it in check.
"So, the Maverick we fought earlier just had the Nightmare Virus, and it was latched to his head, so it stayed in it until it could find a new host?"
'That's right, well, mostly. From what I can tell, someone found a way to remake the Nightmare Virus, but splice it with the Maverick. I was once a victim of the Maverick virus, and I got to see the Nightmare firsthand, so I know just how dangerous this really is.'

Caramon looked at the screen as he inputted the last string of code, naming it 'love' as he spoke to his biometal.
"Is there any way to cure it?"
'Unless you want to die, I'm sorry, but there isn't.'
Z fell silent for a moment, then continued in a light, hopeful voice.
'If you want to though, you can make it a part of you. Everyone thought that I had been cured of being a Maverick, but I merely learned how to use it to my advantage. How else did you think it was so hard to destroy my old body? Well, Omega did make it his own, but I was already pretty strong before that. I'm gonna do what I can to help you figure this out, 'cause we're in this together, right?"
"Right. Together."

Three Hours Later, back at the salon...

"You know, I honestly don't want to tell her, she's worried enough, and I don't think she could take it if we told her the truth."
'It's your decision, but I'd tell her if I were you. She deserves to know, and she could help you learn to control it.'
"You're right, I'll tell her later today, after I apologize to her for leaving like that. I hope she can forgive me."
"I honestly don't know, but I hope so too."
 
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Luna sat in the chair and once her hair was done, the stylist started up a speech about how to take care of color treated hair. She put her hand up to interrupt the stylist.

"Look, I know how to treat colored hair, I've ALWAYS had colored hair since I was like seven," she said with a bit of a snippy tone.

She paid the stylist, leaving a decent tip. She hurried out realizing she was supposed to meet Caramon soon.

"You sure you want to meet him? I mean you ARE mad at him, aren't you?"

"Well yeah but that doesn't mean I shouldn't meet him like we promised."

Luna hurried along only stopping along the way to window shop. She couldn't help it, she wanted to change up her clothes and she really only had what Caramon had made her. She started to wonder if she should call up her aunt for help. She WAS a fairly good fashion consultant. She also ran one of the trendiest boutiques in the city, which is why her mother and her always argued. Her aunt would always be trying to dress everyone in bright colors or really flashy clothing. While Luna thought it was fun she knew there were times to wear more neutral clothing. She shook her head and headed for Caramon's store. When she found out he wasn't there her mood went from alright to angry tyrant.

"We're going to the signal. Forget that jerk." she hissed to I

"Are....are you sure?"

"yes. I'm sure. he can find his OWN way there."
 
After Caramon left the boutique, he felt a chill run down his spine.
'Are you alright Caramon?'
"I've got a very bad feeling, is all..." Caramon said as he glanced at the clocktower, noticing the time. "Oh, frell! I was supposed to meet Luna ten minutes ago!"
'Well, then run, you idiot! She's patient most of the time, but today, she's might just kill you. Hurry!'

As he made his way back to the shop, he found it empty, Luna nowhere in sight.
"Ah shock... What're we gonna do now, Zero? She could be anywhere in the city by now..." An idea struck him, albeit not such a good one. "I guess we could go see if Varla knows where she is, and if not, I'll ask her for Marti's address, that way she might be able to help me find her."
'You do know that's crazy, right?'
"Well, it's worth a shot."

The pair headed back to the manor, yet Luna wasn't there either, nor did Varla know where she went. She did, however, give them directions to Marti's home. As they came near the garage, Caramon couldn't help but laugh as he saw the the plate with her name burnt into it.
"The old girl actually remembered something correctly for once!"
Upon walking to the small dwelling Caramon knocked thrice and waited to see if anyone was home.
 
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A rocketing dash forward, scattering a flurry of shadows, and then Model S was upon him. 'No,' he snarled; what did he mean 'no'!? And then in the next moment all vision was gone, a flow of shadows blasting the pair. Waving his blasters to reclaim his vision as he might against a cloud of smoke, Cormag found that the Shadow Megaman had disappeared. Almost unsurprising, really. Perked up to intercept a noise, the fighter thought he heard the noise of an energy bolt from somewhere...

Cormag cried out in maddened frustration, using the brief charge in the busters to slam them both in the ground. The energy ejected rapidly from the slam, but with the ground in the way it exploded out in burning spikes around Model F's form. The large flame blast carried with it stray rocks and debris pried from the ground, sent every which way haphazardly. Moments later, Cormag felt the sting of several beam blades breaching his back, thankfully only a few of the dozens tossed his way, as the waves of fire intercepted or threw off the rest, the kunai clinking off the surfaces before fading away. The shots in his back, however, persisted awhile longer, feeling off of an energy source (which happened to be Model F) to pester him further.

Cormag spun his head around to face his backside, the knives having come from that direction, and spotted the attack source in mid-fall, about to land. "WRONG ANSWER!" Cormag yelled in defiance, whirling on a dime to kick into a fast dash, forwarded by a flaming-hot knuckle buster as a battering ram.
 
Iscariot bent an arm across his chest and let teal energy trickle from his gauntlets, which cascaded in four directions like as unto the cross. The edges spun and tore at the concrete below, sending rubble and small debris flying about, mirroring the vain projectiles brought about by Model F's style. However, he had not called upon the blades only for a degree of protection. Spinning at the gate of his wrist, the beam shuriken granted Iscariot the leisure of just a body of a second more before he would hit the ground - but the earth was not his primary concern. In a split second, the shadow man cashed in on his wish for a child of a second and kicked at the barrel of the incoming knuckle buster, catching it at the edges in its build with his foot.

In less than a second, Iscariot flung himself up and his hands slid across the surface of the massive weapon. His hands catching a place on top of the knuckle buster to hold firm, Iscariot anchored himself and then lunged forward at Cormag. The force of two motions colliding with each other would be explosive; Iscariot used both his and Cormag's own momentum against the Flame Megaman, and his feet moved in to kick him in the face - hard.

"Are you a child?!" snarled Iscariot.
 
It was a retort that happened in the blink of an eye, but Cormag's heightened senses from the attack extended it, if only for some handfuls of microseconds longer to his mind. This foe wasn't a Maverick, senseless and wrathful in its violence- Oh God, this was making him more like a Maverick! He needed to think of something, and fast-!

He didn't have time or positioning, though, to stop the reinforced boots flying at his face. But he could stop himself; with the free arm, Cormag slammed his other knuckle-buster into the ground for instant traction. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was still dashing. That instant reversed his body position almost entirely, the horned helm of the Flame Biomatch tossing backwards as his torso and legs flung forward from under him the last moments of the boost. Inadvertently, his charging knuckle-buster, which the ninja had previously balanced upon, now was thrown that same figure's way in a clumsy smack.

The braking action wasn't expected to mitigate the damage entirely, but it did lessen it to one foot in the face and another in the horns. His head being thrown back already, the force of the attack did only a nasty bruse's worth, but threw Cormag's figure into a full backflip. The dragged knuckle-buster now slid away as well, leaving Cormag to flail in the air slightly before barely and unexpectedly landing upon his feet (albeit in an unbalanced fashion) thanks to the Biometal's automatic adjustments.

With both Biomatches on the ground away from each other, Cormag knew he had to pick his next attack carefully, given neither character would know what the other would throw until they both turned around. But this time, Cormag didn't have his augmented speed; his Biometal would no longer cooperate. Not that he knew that, in a yet less fortunate circumstance.

"Try an orphan..." Cormag quipped back at Model S, while he tried to form his next tactic. But nothing came to mind; his anger had lessened in exchange for the badly-needed cunning. Yet the wrath rippling before through Cormag's mind echoed throughout his presented being, unintentionally amplified by Model F's bond. His was a voice of anguish, doubt, and grief, having lost so much dear to him that the only thing he had left was the prospect of revengeance against the vague enormity of the Mavericks. Even with Model F, Cormag's fight against the Mavericks as a whole seemed like some pointless last stand, without any way to secure a new future. The only thing left of the family he never truly knew was Model F itself, and now it told him to leave what he still had behind and find some other call...

...The Mother's Call... Cormag trailed off as a hint of nostalgia stabbed him in the heart, his body feeling heavy for two reasons, now.
 
The knuckle buster connected, but only for the briefest of moments. And though Iscariot became wrapped in a cloak of shadows just as metal collided with metal (albeit where it had not been meant), there were cracks in his back armor, though they lay underneath and unseen in their minute state as he landed on the ground a short distance away, his back turned towards the other man. There was silence as the various debris settled. Silence that was broken soon after.

"Try an orphan..."

It took no more than those few words to change how Iscariot saw the other man. It felt strange for a sudden hesitation to grow in his steps, unlike any other before. Perhaps it was because it was no different than to look into a mirror, and to see the pathetic, miserable man that was himself. A man that had killed many more to kill one wretched soul, whom had taken but one from him long before. To slay one life, one utterly hated by him in return for the passing of one he loved so dearly, the only woman to have accepted him? Any mad man could argue the validity of such a path, but what of the others? The rest that had died along the way. The many.

Where was it, their justice? Where was his? Where is he supposed to go, now? What, to do? What is justice?

"We were all orphans. We will all return to being orphans in the end." said Iscariot, as Cormag felt his body weigh. "Bonds only remain until the body turns to ash." said Iscariot, whom stood up to his full height, a gaze sent skyward. For as long as Cormag did not make a move, he withheld his own hands. Yet, a thought passed him, to end Cormag right here, right now.

There was a certain, inexplicable pain unlike any other to watch yourself fall, yet again, from the sidelines. It was a sick comedy on the stage of life, but Iscariot held the means for an exit in hand. All it would take was another flick of the wrist, and in moments the other fellow would be no more. He would be sparing another person the same brand of pain he'd gone through, and the act seemed much more kind when Iscariot reminded himself that the stranger had yet to walk far down that path. But then it dawned on him. Cormag had not turned to the shadows now, had he? He had taken the role of a protector, if Iscariot remembered correctly. The cracks grew as his heart was filled by envy. But at the same time, there, standing on the ground, Iscariot saw responsibility. And the man found himself wanting to be wrong, for once.

"But bonds are endless, formed from others, formed unto others. Bonds exist for those you fight for, but in the end you yourself must decide if those bonds are there, in the shadows where they cannot be seen. For a bond shared breaks through the darkness like the sun itself. And its flames will show the way." Iscariot said, turning to the other fellow just as a droplet of water fell onto his faceplate, followed by many more.

As a black wreath of light disappeared, the man stood where the Mega Man once did, under the drizzle that extinguished any trace of flame in the alley. A small purple relic, the light in its eyes flickering against the veil of the soft cool haze, floated upwards and remained by Iscariot's shoulder as the man spoke.

"An orphan cannot give an answer as much as another orphan cannot accept it. Only you, yourself, can answer that question. Only you can decide your own reasons to fight." Iscariot sent another gaze skyward, his blackened spectacles shielding his eyes from the droplets of water. His hands tucked in his pockets, Iscariot was no longer willing to fight, and simply stared at Cormag's unmoving figure. He needed to set right what would go wrong. Only he could do it. Amidst the sound of water crashing upon the ground, the voice of Model S became heard.

"...Come on, guys. We should get out of this rain before anyone gets a cold. 'Mother' is waiting for us." said the Biometal, a quiver in its voice the moment the final sentence left it. He knew his choice of words would be painful, but he needed the message to get through. If there were answers, the 'mother' would have them. In the soft rain, the two partners waited for a response from their counterparts, passing a silent nod of thanks to each another as they waited.
 
"We were all orphans. We will all return to being orphans in the end. Bonds only remain until the body turns to ash."

T'was a reminder to Cormag once more that the enemy he fought was not a Maverick, nor was he meant to be an enemy at all. The Biometals were all meant to be connected, allied, cooperative to one another, and in context so should their matches, their chosen ties to humanity. But did it mean the chosen all shared something? Something that made them deserving of becoming more than human? Yet, really, they were still human underneath until they perished, and then the Biometal passed on unto another 'partner'. Jealousy and mortality tacked unto his pain of anger.

"But bonds are endless, formed from others, formed unto others. Bonds exist for those you fight for, but in the end you yourself must decide if those bonds are there, in the shadows where they cannot be seen. For a bond shared breaks through the darkness like the sun itself. And its flames will show the way."

Cormag was anchored to the ground by the overwhelming weight of his equipment, an extension of himself. He couldn't move even if he wanted to, and Model F certainly didn't want to. With the knuckle-busters shackling his arms to the asphalt floor, his head weighing down upon him but not inhibiting his hearing, a certain crushing feeling approached from all angles.

But it wasn't an extension of him at all: it was the Biometal, tied barely to Cormag at this moment. So in death the bond might break, but as long as they were alive, it wouldn't. It was a physical and spiritual bond, their data forever intertwined. And it was all Cormag had; what was the people but peons who went about their life as civilians in an uncivil existence? But he wanted, he had to protect them, for they were his kind and yet not, his power extending Cormag's purpose as a guardian to those who had no such power.

But humanity, and by extension the world it lived upon, would not be safe without his mere presence. A presence, though, that may as well not exist his power be gone, his body and will unfit to fight.

"An orphan cannot give an answer as much as another orphan cannot accept it. Only you, yourself, can answer that question. Only you can decide your own reasons to fight."

...How selfless was he? Willing to sacrifice everything he knew and loved for humanity's sake? But it was those couple of humanities he treasured, mortal until the end when they became not more than memories. It was a nightmare that plagued his conscience, forever inflicted with the belief that he had not been powerful enough.
The rain and revelations seemed to thunder upon him all at once. A light enveloped Cormag, then seemed to burn off of him, the plumes of energy leaving his plain, crouched and now soaking body to reform as Model F. But he couldn't lose the will to fight. He just had a fight for a different reason, for what was important for him...

You said... my future was worthless, crippled... What can I do now, then? I want to fight... for their sake. To destroy every last Maverick on this planet... so that nobody else has to suffer.

Not even I can do that.

Then what hope do I-

Not alone. Combined, we can unleash our power, along with the other six. Together, we can do this. I don't how we can win, but we can win. We just need to know what to do. Our purpose.

The Mother?

...It's what your father would do. Trust me.

"...Come on, guys. We should get out of this rain before anyone gets a cold. 'Mother' is waiting for us."

Shaking with suffering and shock, Cormag straightened himself. Slowly, surely, he fumbled, urged, stood up, the Biometal hovering around him as if to offer encouragement. The soft storm surging upon the individuals, Cormag finally let out a sigh, turning to meet Iscariot's dark-glassed vision. "...I guess orphans ought to stick together. Let's get to that island." Cormag's mouth curved into a curt smile, and he tossed his head in the direction of the streets outside the alley.
 
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