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Who was he to tell them not to cheer when their leader who so rarely left his throne graced them all with his presence and the occasional benign wave?
If he framed it like that, the replica couldn’t complain about the attention - even as morose as he felt, it was hard to ignore a cheering crowd whose cheers only intensified when they thought it was them he waved at.
“What are you so nervous about? Aren’t you a Special A?”
“Well yeah but– public relations was never one of my missions, X! Stop laughing!”
“It’s just a parade, how can it be any worse than fighting mavericks?”
“It’s SO much worse! You’re practically the face of the Hunters now, why can’t you do it!?”
The ruler’s hand stilled for a brief moment, blinking in the summer sunlight.
[> xv2@core ~ pwd]
[> directory: v1mem]
[> xv2@core ~ pb mem(last)]
[> output: memory file from v1, date: 20XX post-Sigma Rebellion, context: parade]
Helpful. Ciel couldn’t have given him a GUI and a screen internally, of course, she had something to prove and his only way forward was BASH commands. Luckily it gave him enough to figure out what had triggered the playback, a “nostalgic” subroutine triggering with the right stimuli. Genius bit of work really, he had to hand it to her, nobody else save maybe the doctor responsible for “version one” could have pulled it off to give a machine nostalgic feelings.
How cruel she remember that and forget the one thing he would have needed more than nostalgia, he thought with narrowed eyes, leaning back in the chair at the top of the float, letting the playback continue.
“I am , you’re just going along for the ride.”
“X…”
“Relax. All you have to do is smile and wave, like this. See?”
The Zero in the playback is as young as the Copy feels, hesitant and clearly not wanting to go along with this. The Copy’s fingers twitch as if he can feel the mythical strands he (X) remembers as being so silk-like under them.
The playback Zero tries to copy playback X. The attempt is endearingly awkward, and X (him) starts laughing - not loud enough to be disruptive but enough to get Harpuia’s attention, who looks over at him questioningly.
The copy coughs and waves it off, muttering that he was just reminiscing on something. Harpuia doesn’t question it, only smiles softly and returns to facing the crowd.
Playback Zero is shouting something in his defense while Playback X is clearly laughing, Zero huffing that it isn’t funny. Idly, the replica can’t help but think how different the situation would be were that him in the “slumbering ruler’s” place: he’d never demand Zero go with him, he’d let him stand back and watch as his partner shone and drew the eyes of the crowd, encourage him to step forward – but never force, no.
And yet, the situation stood that Ciel did not replicate Zero to join her X replica at this parade, where the cheers rang more and more hollow by the moment.
He sighs and tries to present a more regal figure. This is a celebration of the day Neo Arcadia was founded, after all, he has a duty to keep.
[> xv2@core ~ cd personal]
[> $echo “ciel, how could you do this to me” > diary.txt]
[> ./you]
He closes his eyes only briefly to let the script run and– there. Beside him, sitting on the arm of the “throne” holding him, there is a Zero reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder.
You’re doing fine, the script assures him, voice pulling from the Zero in his predecessor’s memory. Tired, maybe. C’mon, weren’t you supposed to be the social one?
Absently, the replica felt for his daydream’s hand on his shoulder– only for the script to abort. Still no way to program true sensory feedback into it yet, updated security protocols and the geneva conventions caused the pathing for accessing a Reploid’s sensory net to be lost years ago. The feeling of his own hand grounds him back in reality, out of his daydreaming and out of the playback.
…Deep down, truly, he didn’t think Ciel intended to be cruel copying all of X’s memories, feelings, thoughts – she was trying to make them one to one, but they would never truly have parity between them. Her replica was missing two things that made X “X” after all - the black box (which he suspected was never real, and was just a glorified adaptation subroutine that made all of his code modular enough that it could update realtime relatively quickly) and the one, most important feature she had neglected–
The playback restarts without the replica’s command, showing later in the memory, Zero more relaxed and commenting as annoying as he thought it’d be at first, he actually did have fun. It’s an apt cut in, the copy thinks bitterly.
He still wouldn’t have made Zero do it. How was it he had the benefit of being a version upgrade in every single way but the person who justified those upgrades happening was gone and Ciel, in her hurry to restore Neo Arcadia’s leader, neglected the reason he ever would have became that leader in the first place.
Even as he continues to wave magnanimously from the throne to cheering spectators, X’s replica continues the memory playback– now he’s got the context pulling into his memories. This memory was just after Doppler Town, after Zero had been fully repaired and it was the anniversary of Sigma’s defeat. Abel City’s citizens wanted to memorialize the dead, but also celebrate the defeat of the latest thing to try to kill them. Hence, X and Zero being asked to march in the parade with several other Hunters.
The rest of this playback is simple aftermath. Memories that are his, but aren’t.
He follows his predecessor through these moments - Zero asking to try his cotton candy and immediately hating it (I would have looked over that entire fairground until I found something you liked) Zero talking to Colonel and being introduced to Iris, her eyes sparkling, Zero looking at X for backup (I would have ripped you away from her, I would have saved her) Alia looking nonchalant with a saber behind her back while Zero annoyedly asked X where he hid it (oh, you have no idea what I’d do for you, don’t you know I’d ensure you never needed it again?)
He blinks into reality as a cloud passes overhead, briefly taking away some of the summer sun that was beating down on both him and the crowd below. It practically thrusts a memory into his eyes: Zero questioning something and X practically diving forward to kiss him, Zero’s eyes widening in shock and his cheeks turning apple red.
Beautiful, he thinks as he closes his eyes, trying to lock that image into the front of his mind for easy recall. For a moment, his fingers almost register the feeling of familiar red armor under them, and he has to curse Ciel again.
He really was a perfect replica, after all, with all that entailed. All the memories, all of that same love - it persisted in the savior of Neo Arcadia, the hero who strove for all humankind’s best interest.
The end of the route was rapidly approaching. Soon, he would not be able to get away with parade waves and smiles, he’d need to pay active attention, give a speech, be the ruler of Neo Arcadia alone all over again.
But until then, he thinks, he can replay that memory of that kiss and convince himself the sensory aspects are his memories, that he was there, that there was a Zero who loved him out there and a Zero who if found would love him still.
He’d tell himself that, closing his eyes with a small, tired smile. At the end of the parade, he would be Master X, Ruler of Neo Arcadia again. But for now, he could close his eyes and just… be his predecessor in memory. Or rewrite those memories for himself, perhaps, let himself see how different things would be if the replica had been in command from the start.
The superior version, who would have made Zero so happy, he knows it.
But Zero isn’t there to confirm, and he has no way to simulate how quickly he’d have permanently subdued Sigma or how blissful their life together could have been. The daydreaming will have to do.
He settles back in the throne to continue waving to the adoring humans around them.
Yes. It will just have to do.