Chapter Text
The sky was crying, as it usually does in this section of the Grid. Ever since the coup and Flynn’s subsequent death, hard to reach sections of the Grid have been shutting down, raining endlessly as forewarning of shut down and repurposing. Certain sectors can avoid it if it is being looked after by a System Monitor or a capable enough Security Program, but those have become memories of the Old System, forgotten. Torrents of rain splatter against buildings, making roads slick and visibility low. The lights of the city, seen from miles away, seem dim from the program's viewpoint across from one of Clu’s Occupations towers as soldiers pass by across from him. None of them pay him any mind.
Hundreds of them mill about in a sea of warm crimson. Deceiving , the program thought, for Flynn to give Clu a color of his Sun. A color described for warmth . He’d been watching the soldiers mill about for hours now, waiting for his companion to join him in his vigil. Yet, he refuses to move from his position. This is too important , he thinks as he stares down the secret weapon Clu had been hiding from him for far too long.
Gallium city sprawls out from beneath a program's feet, but his eyes stay pinned to the Recognizer stationed below. A Mobile Repurposing Unit. A monstrosity. A stain of Clu’s influence for all of the citizens of Gallium to see, and yet they ride by on lightcycles and fly over in lightjects unaware that this one clump of code could change their entire runtime.
Tron shudders, thanking his Users that Clu and Dyson still think him dead. If they found him while he was still weak, still injured, the rebellion would never have stood a chance. He would have been repurposed and started going after them like a particularly glitched Gridbug. If Tron had one fear to say was his greatest, it would have been that he failed his programming as a System Monitor. If Flynn could see him now, hiding out in the Outlands like a coward while more and more programs are derezzed or worse.
A Mobile Repurposing Unit , he thinks. For all he tries, Tron could not figure out why Clu would order one to be made and hid away until he called for it again. Maybe he found out he was alive and is trying to scare him into compliance. He almost scoffs, if that were true that Clu must have lost some voxels at some point, to think he would give up like that.
Behind , the Grid urges. Friend, Behind !
Tron drops low into a crouch, the fighting stance eased from him from cycles of practice, to face the program who was trying to sneak up on him. There’s a micro, then three. Then, eventually his ears pick out the steady footfalls from behind the pitter, patter of rain. Thump, thump, thump. A program's circuits come into view as he rounds the corner of the stairwell, easing Tron’s worries about being happened upon by a stray program. Able, he thinks, it’s just Able. Less worried, and yet slightly exasperated he waits as his friend steadily approaches him. Since Albe and he were younger programs and still new to each other, the Mechanic would try to sneak up on the Monitor and catch him unaware. It was as funny as it was annoying.
“Been a long time since I’ve seen you last. How are things?” Able asks, not really expecting an answer. Fair , Tron cocks his head. He’s never been one for formalities . “What took you so long? It only takes a couple of millis to get from Argon to Gallium. I assumed you were stuck.”
Able’s eyes, dark and rounded with even darker circles than when Tron last saw him, peered at him. Trying to pick out every unspoken worry and endless thought from his rezzed helmet. “You do realize that the Occupation's presence in Argon has grown, right? With the Renegade’s presence, the Garage is always fixing up their crashed bikes and exploding tanks. Surely, you’ve been paying attention?”
Tron's head lolls to the side, lost in thought. The Renegade, he thought that the rogue program would have been caught by now. He had caught Tron's attention when he blew up Clu’s statue in Argon but Tron was much too injured to go find the program, loath as he is to admit it. But the Renegade has been active for almost a cycle and a half, that’s a long time for a lone program to be defecting. He had no idea who could have done it, and last Tron had heard, the rebel had quite an effect on the Generals who oversee the city.
“The Renegade…he hasn’t given up yet?” Surprising, considering most rebellions are scattered before they are even a thought.
“No,” Able says, “he’s making too much of an impact on the programs in Argon. He will not stop.” He sounds certain, as if this is a fact he’s considered just that for a very long time.
“You’ve met him? The Renegade?” Tron would very much like to meet him. Meet this young program who stood up so strongly against his programming to fight for what he believed in. A true leader and rebel at the heart of one of the Grids most occupied cities. The Grid hums underneath his feet, apparently pleased with the topic of the conversation. Odd , Tron thought. Maybe there is more to the Renegade than what meets the eye. Could it be an old program Tron once knew ?
“Yes.” Able responds, to the point. “No, I won’t tell you anything more. Not unless you tell me more about this plan of yours and what I can do to help you heal yourself up. I know this isn’t a simple recon mission Tron, I wasn't rezzed yesterday.” Tron’s shoulders shook with a huff, put out that his friend didn’t even try to gently pry the answers from him. He thought of a phrase Flynn taught him once, ‘In for a penny, In for a pound’.
“What do you know about Repurposing?” Tron asks, ready to hurry this conversation so that they can make a plan. He’s impatient, has thought about this and only this for the past couple of tera’s. The Grid was never the same since Clu took over, but recently it’s been buzzing with warning and danger, putting him on edge. He needs to be put back together, one way or another.
A pause. Able looks down at the Recognizer below, at all of the soldiers guarding it and thinks. “I know you aren't the same program that you were before. What are you planning?”
“It’s time for me to join the rebellion,” Tron states, watching Able's face for any emotions. All he gets is a blank slate. “That down there is a Repurposing Unit, left alone until Clu needs it. Stashed away in a far corner of the Grid city. When going through Repurposing, the program must be cleansed first. Any and all viruses and corrupt code is done away with. Only then can you start to change their programming.”
The Mechanic’s face finally cracked, opening up in an expression of realization. You want to use it on yourself -”
“- and then disrupt the process, yes. I’m desperate enough to try this. If I don’t do this, I have one, maybe two cycles at most. Will you help me?” Tron asks, knowing this is a tall question to ask a Basic Program. Not everyone was so willing to help another, even if it was the Grids hero, her Monitor. It wasn’t a fair thing to ask.
Able’s brows were furrowed in a stressed line, already thinking of all of the ways it could go wrong. Tron knew what he was thinking, reading it off of his face. If we don’t get you out of that thing in time, we would have just given the Occupation the biggest weapon we could have thought of . They stood together at the lip of the roof, looking down at the masses below. It was mid-work cycle, soldiers milling about and slacking off. Most repurposed, but not evil.
“I won’t do it alone. I’ll need help. On one condition: I’m bringing the Renegade. I know him and trust him to protect me and you. But you need to let him know who you are. He knows I left the city to help a program. Just not that it was you.” Now that’s something. Able talks as if…
“You know him personally.” Tron was incredulous. Able knew about this program on a deep level of understanding and didn't tell Tron about it. The Grid responded to his rage, shaking slightly underneath him. He could feel his temper rising, anger clinging to the fact that he could have been helping this lone program this whole time, and yet Able -
A small chuckle came from the dark man next to him. “Relax, I’ve known him my whole life. But his secrets aren’t mine to share, Monitor. There is no need to cross your circuits. He’s a good worker, an even better kid.”
…A kid? Tron shook his head, almost couldn’t bear to hear it. A young program forced to stand up to literal armies just to protect his city. What has the Grid come to? He could feel her around him now, steady and interested now that her, seemingly, favorite topic of conversation has come up. Tron was almost as interested as her, and decided to extend a branch of faith.
“You vouch for him? You truly believe that he can do this and will succeed?”
Able laughs fully this time, almost in tears before he could get himself under control. What was so humorous about this situation Tron couldn’t fathom, but he needed an answer. He was tired already, scars itching from being out of the energy chamber for too long and was being laughed at by his old friend. Traitor.
“You know, he reminds me of you? He can even do some of your weird Monitor Protocols, you know? Maybe I should ask him if his designation is System Monitor, too? Wouldn’t that be something?” He trails off soft chuckles leaving him as he says his piece.Tron was almost about the turn around and walk away, already done with this conversation but the Grid -
-The Grid rocked beneath him, humming approval and praise for this program that Tron has never met, never considered. He stood there shocked. Jaw popped open underneath his helmet and shoulders jacked straight from where they were hanging loose and micro before. There is now way. He hasn’t felt this type of reaction from the Grid since before the attack on the ISO’s, many cycles before. Not since…Not since Anon was introduced onto the Grid and announced System Monitor.
Able was looking at him concerned now. He couldn’t feel her, couldn’t understand why Tron laughed. A loud, joyous sound that echoed down the side of the building they were on top of and so unlike the program he knew. When was the last time I heard him laugh? Able wondered. “What? What did she tell you?”
Tron’s head shook in disbelief. “She approved when you mentioned he could be a System Monitor. Either he is, or his programming could allow him to be one. Unbelievable. Now I have to meet him!” Another laugh, this one lighter, before his circuits flickered and Tron dropped into a crouch. Ouch , he thought, this has been shorter than the last time he was out of the energy tank . Looking down, he could see his scars, irritated from being out in the open for so long. Taking steady breaths, he tries not to sink completely to the ground, too.
A hand on his shoulder has him looking up. Able is worried, that much is obvious, but he now looks equally as determined. “When do you need us to be there? We can meet right here and get it over with, and Clu will be none the wiser. Just say the word.”
Tron shakes his head, “How can you be so sure that the Renegade will help? I may be Tron and he may be using my symbol to lead a rebellion…Users, he may even be a Monitor the Grid has been hiding but that doesn’t mean that he will help. Or can.” He has come to be used to the inaction in the programs around him, all so sure that what's happening to other programs couldn’t happen to them that they refuse to stand up and fight.
“Trust me that won’t be a problem. You’re his hero. I doubt there is anything that you could do to shake that faith in a first meeting.” Able says, thoroughly amused. Tron is not. Who in this cycle and runtime would have him as a hero, especially a young program. It’s odd not to mention unusual. Not only did he fail as the Grids protector on that fateful day, but he’s done so in his inaction every day since. He tells Able this.
The Mechanic sets his jaw, a tell sign that Tron said something ridiculous and wished to bash him over the head with a coder. “...Anybody worth their programming would tell you otherwise. I don’t blame you and the Renegade won’t either.”
“Won’t tell me who it is?” Tron asks, slighted. Who’s he going to tell, Clu? The traitor, Dyson? Maybe Yori’s voxels somewhere on the Old System would listen. He just watched Able shake his head, “It’s not my secret to tell, Monitor. Let’s get you back to your cave. We can come back after the mega is over. You said you have a plan? Let’s do it. I’ll come with the Renegade and we’ll fix you. But not if you have a stupid plan that will raise all of Clu’s alarms the second you step foot on that Recognizer.”
Tron, never one to let an opportunity to mess with Clu go, could only oblige. After all, it was in his programming.