Archive of Our Own

DARK ENERGY

Megaman had warned him.

But he did it anyway.

Why?

Because he thought that was the only way to fulfill his purpose.

The dark energy seduced him. It whispered him promises of absolute power; of imminent victory. Did he have another choice? It was the only path to becoming what he had always dreamed of: the ultimate weapon that would destroy Megaman. However, even though he had gained the power, now everything was shrouded in an overwhelming confusion.

Reality itself seemed to ripple and melt around him. The images distorted before his eyes. Were they real? Or were they simply shadows of his deranged mind? The dark energy coursed through him, but at the same time, it was dissolving him.

Bass… Who was Bass? Was he Bass?

Bass had taken the dark energy… No. Why had he started referring to himself in the third person? He was Bass. He had taken the dark energy with his own hands, allowed it to enter his system, to consume his being. And he had used it. Of course he had used it! How could he resist? The power it granted him was… Something indescribable, immense. It made him feel unstoppable. Ecstasy.   

But he hadn’t calculated the consequences.

The magnitude of that power seemed endless… How far did it go? It was no longer just a weapon; it was a part of him, something that fragmented and transformed him into something more. Or perhaps into something less? Dark energy was not a power he controlled; it was a power that possessed him. And now, he was floating somewhere. Was he floating? Wasn’t he on the battlefield, fighting Megaman? Or was he everywhere at once?

Megaman watched him with those big, round eyes filled with concern. Blue eyes, as blue as his armor, as blue as the clear winter sky. Megaman was saying something, but Bass could barely hear it. Megaman’s voice was distorted, as if it were coming through an invisible barrier.

Why did Megaman seem so worried?

What was he saying?

Who was Megaman?

More importantly: Who was he?

Oh, right, he was Bass… Wasn’t he? The perfect creation of Dr. Wily. The most perfect creation in the world. Or so he had thought. But now, doubts slashed through him like blades.

Suddenly, memories hit him, falling one after the other like the pages of a book closing. They showed him how he had gotten there, how he had fallen into this trap…

It had been the desperation eating away at his chest. The thought that Wily planned to replace him was overwhelming.

It was obvious that his creator no longer had faith in him. Faith that once seemed unshakable, had drained away like water through a sieve.

He had to gather the pieces himself for what would become his greatest creation. The one who would hold the title that, until recently, had been his alone.

Could his ego be shattered any further?

«Zero»

That name floated in his mind like a constant threat. Zero would be stronger. Zero would be the true perfect creation. And Bass… Bass would watch from the shadows.

No. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t be replaced.

That’s why he had done what he did. He gave himself to the dark energy because he had no other choice. Because he couldn’t accept being a failure. Because he would rather destroy Megaman or die trying than be forgotten. Than be replaced.

Now, facing Megaman, he felt partly victorious, partly broken. The energy flowed through his body like a powerful poison, like an intoxicating pleasure… Making him stronger, faster… But also, more insane.

The scene of the argument with Wily the night before flitted through his mind like a mischievous butterfly, buzzing back and forth, impossible to catch.

“I can’t make you stronger, Bass” Wily’s words sliced through him like razors “You’ve reached the limit of your capabilities… But Zero…” a malicious smile spread across the doctor’s face “He’ll truly be strong. So strong that he could destroy the entire world if he wanted to… That’s how strong he’ll be!”

“You still need me, Wily” Bass had replied with the restrained fury of a cornered dog. “You can’t get rid of Megaman by yourself… You still need the Robot Masters, and you need me. Without me, your plan goes to hell”

Wily let out a shrill, almost mad laugh, a cackle that had reverberated off the laboratory’s walls.

“What are you laughing at?” Bass demanded, unable to contain his rage.

But Wily kept laughing, as if he didn’t give a damn about the passage of time, as if Bass were nothing more than a broken toy.

“I’m laughing at your childishness… You’re like a kid who can’t accept that he’s a kid,” Wily had said with contempt. “You’re just full of ‘blah, blah, blah,’ but nothing useful.”

«Shut up! It’s not my fault I’m like this», Bass shouted in his mind. The image of Wily, with his mockery frozen in that moment, was etched into his brain like a scar.

Was he really worthless?

That question consumed him. Was his existence, all his fight, useless? So useless that his own creator mocked him shamelessly? Every word Wily spoke had been a claw, tearing away his confidence.

That’s why he had done it. That’s why he had embraced the dark energy that promised what Wily could no longer offer: power, greatness, revenge.

And then, he felt it.

A lightness, a rush of power passing through his system like a thunder. The dark energy hadn’t fused with him; it absorbed him, made him a part of it. His essence was now mixed with something immensely greater, something that he did not understand in the slightest.

He still existed, but he was no longer everything. Now he was just a small fraction of an infinite whole.

His attacks became more precise, faster. His body moved with an agility and accuracy that he had never experienced before. It was a perfect dance, a lethal choreography. With each pulse of energy, his hair stood on end and he felt power coursing throw his veins like pure electricity. His focus was total, absolute.

But then, something in his mind began to change. His brain started to accelerate, like a locomotive going at full speed. One though dragged him to another, and then another, weaving together in an endless chain that imprisoned him.

«What will happen to me when I defeat Megaman?»

That question appeared again and again, an echo that could not be silenced.

«What will I actually get? »

Doubts multiplied.

«Will it be worth it?… Will it be worth letting myself be consumed like a match by this chaotic and insatiable force? »

Suddenly, a deep voice, from the depths of his being surprised him:

“You don’t have to do it alone, Bass… Not everything depends on you”

Bass stopped all his attacks at once. Whose voice was that? What was going on in his head?

“It’s valid to ask for help… It’s valid to say ‘I can’t’” the voice spoke again, resonating within him. 

“Who said that?!” Bass asked, disoriented.

“Why don’t you see me yourself?” the voice responded, enigmatic.

Megaman looked at him, his eyes full of concern, unable to understand what was happening. Bass, who had been attacking him with ferocity a second ago, now seemed immersed in an internal battle, asking questions into the air, disconnected from reality.

He had warned him. Duo had told him that dark energy was too dangerous, that it corrupted their thoughts, making them lose their minds. It wasn’t something that could be taken lightly.

Bass held his head with both hands, curling into a ball as he talked to himself. Megaman didn’t know what to do.

The confusion within Bass grew. Who was Megaman? Why was so important to him? Why did he feel that his very existence was tied to his? That everything in his life revolved around him… Why?

What did Megaman represent to him?

Why did he obsess him so much?

Why couldn’t he get him out of his mind?

Why did he want to burst his head and punch his corpse over and over again? Letting himself be carried away by a raw, exquisite violence, that intoxicated him like liquor…

He wanted to see Megaman’s blood covering the floor, like a velvet cloak, closing the curtain on a play that kept repeating in his mind.

But, at the same time… Why did he want his attention so much?

He wanted to be noticed…

“Who said that?!” Bass repeated, feeling a weird déjà vu that made him a little dizzy, as if he had already asked the same question before.

“Not everything depends on you” the voice in his head was strong, clear, impossible to ignore.

“Who are you?” Bass asked again, not knowing if he was talking to the voice or to himself.

“Why don’t you see me yourself?” the voice repeated, and that phrase stayed flowing in his mind, like the reflection of one mirror in front of another, endless.

«Why don’t you see me yourself? »

Bass looked ahead. He was no longer on the battlefield. What was that place? It seemed like an infinite space, without horizon, where the sky and the ground merged into a nebulous gray.

«Why don’t you see me yourself? » The question echoed over and over inside him, reverberating in every corner of his being.

When he finally recovered some control over his thoughts, he noticed that someone was in front of him. It was his shadow… Or maybe, it was…

Soon, he understood. He was looking at himself. He was on the other side of a mirror. It had been himself who was talked to him, who had offered him that solace: ‘You don’t have to make it alone, Bass… Not everything depends on you. It’s valid to ask for help… It’s valid to say ‘I can’t’.’ He had told himself that he wasn’t alone.

“Why are you telling me this nonsense?” the original Bass shouted, furious, while his reflection stared at him coldly. Because he was the original… Right?

“You are not Megaman” the Bass in the mirror replied “Who are you?”

Was that really a mirror? Or was it some kind of window into another reality?

Suddenly a revelation struck him. Where was Megaman?

“Megaman this, Megaman that” his mirror-self mocked. “Who are you without Megaman?”

A doubt pierced through him, as sharp as a blade: Which one of them was the real Bass? The one who was in the mirror or the one who felt trapped in this disjointed reality?

What if them were the same?

But, if they were the same, why did his reflection speak to him like if it were someone entirely different?

The true weighted heavily in his chest: Who was him without Megaman?

“I am Bass” he told himself.

“And who is Bass?” the voice in his head asked a new question, relentless.

«Bass is the one who destroys Megaman» came the automatic reply, rising from the depths of his subconscious.

But then, who is Bass without Megaman?

«Nothing» he replied himself, taking a step back.

The whirlwind of that realization hits him like a torpedo.

Was he truly nothing?

Did his existence was worthless without Megaman?

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be…

Bass looked back, delving into his memory. The recollections flickered through his mind like the blurred images of an old film. And in every single one, in some way, Megaman was present.

In some physically, in others, just as a mention, a distant ghost, but always there.

It seemed that, in reality, that was the only thing that defined him.

There was nothing else.

His entire existence had been built around being Megaman’s sworn enemy.

But then, what would remain from Bass if Megaman disappeared?

Bass felt tears stinging behind his eyes. The pressure inside his chest grew, as if the pain and frustration were about to explode.

“No, you are not going to cry” Wily’s voice rang in his head, starling him like the crack of a whip. It carried the same contempt as always “Don’t do that to me, Bass! Don’t dare to make me feel ridiculous!”

«Ridiculous»

That was everything he was now, ridiculous. A failed experiment that his own creator despised.

“It’s not my fault I’m not perfect! You made me and you made my wrong!” Bass yelled, feeling that his words break with rage and helplessness “You’re the one who failed!

He brought his hands to his face, trying to hide the flood of emotions, but then he realized… He had no face. Nor hands.

Gone.

Panic overtook him. Where was he? Where was his body?

For a moment, his gaze fixed on the air, noticing crystalline droplets suspended around him. Were those tears? His tears, frozen in the void?

Out of the blue, he felt that he had a body again. But something was off. Something was different.

He no longer wore his armor. He looked down, and what he saw was flesh and bone. A human body, fragile, vulnerable.

Where was his real body?

His thoughts began to race as he felt a weight pressing down on him, a tremendous force pinning him against a wall, keeping him from moving.

What was happening?

There was a man pressing against him, strong and heavy, trying to wedge his leg between Bass’s thighs. Too close.

Bass tried to push him away, but he hadn’t strength, no matter how hard he struggled, every movement was useless. He couldn’t shake him off.

A wave of terror engulfed, dark and suffocating. Why didn’t he had the strength to get this bastard off him?!

He struggled, but the man held him firmly. His heavy breathing was close of Bass’s face. Every attempt to break free let him feeling more powerless, more defenseless.

The helplessness was breaking him.

He couldn’t fight back.

The tears that he tried so hard to hold back finally began to sliding down his cheeks, burning his skin with the frustration of being unable to do anything. Desperate, Bass let out a scream that tore through his vocal cords. The sound came out broken, as if his own voice was as weak as his will.

«If only I had the strength…» he though, wishing for the nightmare to end. He didn’t want to be violated. He didn’t want to be reduced to this.

“Hey, leave him alone” a voice shook him like a lightning bolt.

Someone had seen him. Someone had witnessed his deepest vulnerability. Bass wanted to hide, disappear, but it was too late.

The boy, as quick as a flash, pushed the attacker away, forcing him back with a blow that made him stagger. Then, the man, scared, run off without looking back.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” the boy asked, approaching.

Bass didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to be seen like this, so exposed. But he did, and it made things worse. What he saw was Megaman. But not as the warrior he always knew. No, this time he was a high school boy, dressed in his pristine blue uniform. Megaman, a teenager.

Shame hit him like a punch.

Why him?

Why had to be Megaman who saved him?

Why, of all people, did it had to be him?

He clenched his fists, cursing his luck.

Megaman, with his school uniform, looked at him with compassion, with those blue eyes that Bass despised so much in that moment.

“Stop it. Don’t look at me like that” Bass adverted his gaze, feeling the crushing weight of his shame “I don’t need your pity”

“Pity? What pity?” Megaman asked, confused “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t deny it. You pity me for not being as strong as you” the words slipped out before Bass could stopped them, and he felt a knot in his throat, as if something inside him was about to break “For not been good at the one thing I’m supposed to do right!” he shouted, his voice filled with a desperation he didn’t even recognize.

It was a cry full of pain, of failure. Like that of a child stripped of all his toys. He was supposed to be perfect, but he wasn’t. He was a failure. An unfulfilled promise.

His existence was a waste.

Suddenly, he felt as if he had peeled away from that human body, like a decal, becoming able to view the scene from the outside, as a spectator. He observed himself—or at least what was supposed to be his own face.
It was identical to his robotic face, but with certain differences... It displayed signs he had never seen before on himself: a blush, for instance, which revealed a sense of vulnerability and humiliation. He could also see that he was trembling. His body trembled with the fear he had just experienced.

It was more than obvious that, no matter how much he tried to deny it, he did need help. Someone had almost done something horrible to him, something that would have destroyed him in more ways than one. Of course, he needed help… but why was it so hard to accept it?

Because accepting help meant he was… What? Weak?

“Am I weak for accepting help?” he wondered.

“Am I weak or am I strong?”

I cannot be weak. I must be strong.

I must be strong… Very strong… Powerful… Strong enough to destroy the world if I so desire. I want power. No matter the cost. I want power. More power than anyone. More power than any being in the universe. Absolute, raw power.
It is the only thing I want. The only thing my soul desires.

“Do I have a soul?”

I don’t know… Do I?

“Why do I want power?”

I want it because… I want to be the strongest.

“And why do you want to be the strongest?”

Because being the strongest is the best thing there is.

“And why is it the best thing there is?”

Because it gives you worth.

“Worth according to whom?”

Worth according to… Wily?

Wily created me. If I am not worth anything to Wily, if I am not worth anything to my creator, then… what purpose does my existence have?

Suddenly, he began to hear a sound like static. It felt like the sound was clawing at him, invading him. He could “see” the sound. Black and white mixing into a grayish texture that vibrated and trembled, like thousands of ants running beneath its surface. Something about that sound made him grit his teeth and clutch his head. But the more he stretched his hands out, the farther away his own head felt.

If his existence had no meaning, then he would destroy everything. He wanted everything to burn to ashes. To destroy every inch of the Earth. To obliterate every atom in the universe.

But he knew Megaman wouldn’t allow it.

No. Megaman had him tied, trapped by his own will. He wouldn’t let him do as he pleased. But there was still a way to defeat Megaman. Maybe he couldn’t overpower him in strength, but what about something else?

What if he defeated Megaman by destroying something Megaman couldn’t save?
There was something Megaman wanted, something Bass could destroy without Megaman being able to stop him. That thing was… himself.

But why would he want to destroy himself?

“Is Megaman really worth it?” he wondered.

“Alright… but I think we’re forgetting something important,” a voice echoed in his mind. “Why don’t we talk about Bass instead of Megaman?”

“What do you want to know about Bass?” he asked himself.

“I want to know who Bass is,” the voice replied, firm and insistent.

For a moment, his mind spat out the phrase, “Bass is Megaman’s arch-enemy, the ultimate weapon to destroy him.” But when he reflected on the deeper meaning of those words, something inside him felt shame. Because those words meant their fates were intertwined in a way that almost bordered on intimacy.

And deep in his subconscious, that was the truth. Seeing Megaman gave his existence meaning. But now, faced with that truth, he realized he’d never thought about who he was without him. Without Megaman.

“Do you want me to destroy you, Bass?” his other “self” asked from the mirror.

Bass stared at his own reflection, but there was something in those eyes that felt foreign. They were like two rubies floating in the air—intense, almost hypnotic.

“Do I want to destroy myself?” he thought.

Yes… destroying himself seemed, in some way, tempting. But at the same time… no.

“Do I want to be destroyed?”

His thoughts faded away like the echo of a distant explosion.

For a moment, he saw a plane crossing an imaginary sky, carrying a banner that read, “Yes. I want to be destroyed.” The banner slowly fell to the ground, and when it touched down, it began to coil like a snake. No… it wasn’t a snake. It was whipped cream. Or maybe a vast, shapeless mound of pure white.

“I love destroying EVERYTHING I see,” his own voice suddenly roared into the air. Or was it the sound of a collapsing building? Or perhaps it was both at once.

He could see a building being bombed. The grenades exploded in a grotesque caricature. “BOOM!” “BOOM!” The giant letters emerged from the explosions like the onomatopoeias of a superhero comic, vibrant, red, and framed by yellow bursts.

“I love destroying. It drives me crazy… It makes me unstoppable, makes me aggressive, makes me dangerous, makes me pure power… Absolute power.”

“I want all the power, or none at all.”

It was as if, at that moment, he understood everything: This was how having sex would feel.

The word ‘POWER’ suddenly appeared in his field of vision. It was massive, bold, and faintly glowing, as if it had been pulled straight out of an old black-and-white cartoon. Around it was a flickering frame of lines that highlighted it. Thin, flexible legs had sprouted from the word, complete with those classic oversized shiny shoes that squeaked with every movement, and hands with white gloves. Then, with excessive grace, it began to dance, kicking and spinning in the air like it was the star of a musical number.

As ‘POWER’ danced, the word ‘PLEASURE’ –written in a smaller, more delicate font– ran to meet it

‘PLEASURE’ clapped enthusiastically as ‘POWER’ took a bow at the end of its performance. Then, in a coquettish gesture, ‘POWER’ puffed up its chest like a peacock and flexed its arms to show off its large muscles. It even had an anchor tattooed on its arm, looking truly strong.

‘PLEASURE’ twirled around it, blushing, barely touching the ground with small hops. One hand covered its face, its cheeks cartoonishly lined with exaggerated blush, as if the flirtation was irresistible. That’s when Bass noticed ‘PLEASURE’ was wearing a skirt. How strange, he thought; it seemed that ‘PLEASURE’ was a girl after all.

Then, ‘PLEASURE’, completely enamored, threw herself beside ‘POWER’, linking her arm with his. Black-and-white hearts blossomed above them, floating gently like balloons, as they walked away in sync, to the rhythm of imaginary background music. Each step echoed like a drumbeat in Bass’s mind, a ridiculously triumphant march toward emptiness.

«This is how an orgasm would feel…» he thought, without knowing why.

It was as if a massive wave crashed against the shore, sweeping away the sand and carrying small fragments of seashells. The sensation was supreme, electrifying. It was as if pleasure permeated every part of his being, breaking him into a million pieces, but without any pain… Only pleasure… Each of those pieces was the sand of the sea, moving within that powerful wave, and at the same time, they were the water itself.

Everything, all at once. United and scattered simultaneously.

Bass… Was he Bass?

He… Who was he having this orgasm with?

Who was that person?

All he could see was a color: blue.

The blue painted the entire horizon, covering the whole world. As if a bucket of blue paint had been spilled, splattering every part of his vision.

Bass... He was there, embracing that boy. Megaman, in his blue high school uniform, held him tightly in his arms. What was Bass doing? Why was he allowing it? He couldn’t be above him; he shouldn’t be in that position of power.

“No! Move! Get him off of you! He can’t be above you!” the internal scream echoed in his mind, but his body wouldn’t respond.

What he felt, what coursed through his skin and nerves, was something else. Something that filled him with a dangerous sensation, something that bordered on delicious.

«Delicious»

A word that vibrated strongly in his mind, resonating along with the sensations that coursed through him like lightning. Yet, at the same time, a growing desperation gripped him. Stronger and stronger. Even though it felt good, even though the pleasure consumed him from within, something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“What are you doing, Bass?! Why are you letting Megaman do this to you?!”

The word ‘PLEASURE’ reappeared, glowing like a neon sign. Each letter sparkled in vibrant red… then blue… then red again, pulsing with each sensation that enveloped him. The ecstasy and chaos intertwined in his mind, blurring reality.

Suddenly, the light came back on, and in the glow, he saw Megaman’s worried face.

“Bass, hold on! Don’t die! Please, don’t die!” Megaman shouted, his voice tinged with anguish. But those words took their time to reach his mind, as if they were coming from another dimension. Bass could barely process them.

Why was he lying on the ground, cradled in Megaman’s arms? How had he ended up there?

Confusion enveloped him. His thoughts came in fragments, incapable of weaving themselves into something coherent. Was he going insane? Was this what insanity felt like? He needed to focus on something—anything—to stop himself from slipping away entirely into chaos. He felt like his body was dissolving, turning into vapor and fading into the air.

“NO!” he suddenly screamed, summoning all the strength he had left.

He didn’t want to go back there. He didn’t want to return to that weak, human state. He didn’t want to fragment. He wanted to stay Bass. He didn’t want to disappear.

A voice spoke to him, soft, from somewhere. Was it coming from a corner of the stage where they were? Or perhaps from within his own mind? He couldn’t tell.

“Is there anything more important than defeating Megaman?” the voice asked.

And before he could answer, the voice continued:
“Yes”, it answered itself.

He felt fractals of himself liquefying, slipping through Megaman’s arms, while his consciousness began to fade. He clung to one final thought, like someone grabbing the edge of a cliff:
«I want to live… I don’t want to disappear»

The neon light kept flashing in the corner of his vision. Red… blue… red… blue…

How long had he been staring at the lights? Had it been a minute or hours?

Suddenly, he noticed something: Megaman was carrying him. Holding him in his arms. The tears began to sting behind his eyes.

The boy in the blue high school uniform was carrying him… protecting him.

“… Help me…” his voice came out as nothing more than a choked whisper.

He no longer had the strength to fight for himself. But he didn’t want to disappear into the immense darkness surrounding them. Megaman tightened his hold, pressing him closer to his chest so tightly that Bass could feel the frantic rhythm of his metallic heart.

“I swear, Bass. I won’t let you die…” Megaman’s words slipped through the shadows surrounding him, like a promise that brought him hope. Even though he felt his time running out.

For a moment, he could see the dark energy inside him, like a thorny vine wrapping around him, devouring him like an insatiable fire. It drained his vitality, stripping away any trace of strength or sanity.

[FATAL ERROR] appeared in his field of vision.

The red words seemed to pulse, like a kind of system alert he had never seen before.

He felt like he was falling, like a drop of water descending from a distant cloud, merging with an immense ocean, losing itself in that endless blue.

Bass lowered his head. He was carrying a stuffed toy in his arms. He was walking, and someone was leading him, holding his hand. That person was very tall… No. Actually, he was very small. Just a child. A child who was very afraid... Everything around him was so dark, so suffocating.
The adult leading him was guiding him through a shadowy alley, a place that seemed to breathe danger. From a sewer grate, violet-colored vapor seeped out, wrapping the air in an enchanting haze. A rat scurried into the shadows toward a dead-end alley.

Bass looked up and saw him: Wily. He wore a beige trench coat and a black hat, his face barely visible under the dim yellow light of a streetlamp. Moths fluttered around the lamp, as if drawn to something inevitable. Wily… He was the adult dragging him to this horrible place, full of abandoned buildings, trash, prostitutes, and perdition.

Finally, they arrived at a doorway, and Wily let go of his hand. Leaning toward him, he spoke in an indifferent tone: “Stay here. Dad has some business to take care of...”

“I don’t want to! Don’t leave me!” Bass cried, his anguish pouring out from the depths of his being. Tears began to fall, hot and desperate. “Please, Dad, don’t leave me here… Don’t leave me alone.”

He could feel it deep down. Wily was going to abandon him. Leave him adrift.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that... Don’t make this harder for me,” Wily replied, his usual coldness ever-present.

Just then, a voluptuous woman passed by them. Her long, voluminous blonde hair was tied in a ponytail that seemed to stretch over a meter. Her disproportionately large chest automatically drew Bass’s attention.

“Two green gems of power,” he suddenly thought, not understanding why that idea came to him.

Wily’s expression changed as he saw her. He blushed like a foolish teenager, his demeanor shifting from indifference to desire in an instant. His eyes turned into pink hearts, throbbing ridiculously, as if he were a cartoon character.

“Miss,” Wily greeted her, removing his hat with a grin overflowing with lust.

The woman covered her lips, laughing seductively at his pathetic gesture, and continued walking alongside Wily. Their figures disappeared under the doorway, fading as they passed through it.

«What am I going to do now? » Bass thought, overwhelmed. «Why did he leave me here? »

The image of a red glass heart shattering into a thousand pieces filled his mind for a few seconds before fading into the darkness.

Then, bullets began to rain down from the sky. The bullets were his tears—cold and ruthless. They made a thunderous noise as they hit the ground, forming craters in the earth.

A boy in a blue shirt suddenly appeared, running toward him. Who was this boy? More importantly, who was he?

“Shhh... Shhh... Shhh...” a soft voice whispered close to his ear. “You don’t have to know everything…”

That voice calmed him, wrapping him in an unexpected sense of peace.

“Come… Trust me” the boy said, though the voice felt distant, as if it came from somewhere else, perhaps from the battlefield. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy took his hand, holding it firmly. Something that, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, gave him something to hold onto. He could tell the boy was older, maybe just a few years.

«How much older could he be? » Bass wondered; his mind hazy.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” the boy asked.

Bass raised his head. Tears blurred his vision, and instead of seeing the boy, he could only make out a blue blur.

His soul could no longer bear the weight, and he broke down into sobs.

“My father replaced me,” he admitted, his voice sounding broken.

Above them, a deafening thunderclap made the clouds tremble. The older one held him tightly as a rain of bullets fell around them with increasing violence, tearing the city apart in its wake. Bass was fully aware of the chaos surrounding them. War tanks fired in every direction, buildings burned, and aircraft spiraled down from the sky. People ran everywhere in sheer panic, while animals escaped from a nearby zoo. Everything was absolute chaos.

“He doesn’t love me anymore…” Bass sobbed, utterly exhausted. His energy had been completely drained by that outburst of desperation.

In his mind, the image of a lithium battery flashed, with only a thin red line of power remaining.

“Easy… everything will be alright. Trust me,” the boy said, who, somehow, was now Megaman.

The blue of the sea wrapped around his body. He could feel the temperature of the water. It was pleasant. He felt safe, as if nothing could hurt him there.

“Don’t leave me alone, please…” Bass pleaded, now once again the robot. “Don’t let me get lost… Megaman…”

“Bass… stay with me. Don’t fall asleep again, okay?” the Blue Bomber replied.

His voice, now formed of thousands of blue butterflies, fluttered around him. How had he not noticed how beautiful they were before?

“Bass? Wake up, don’t close your eyes” Megaman’s voice now sounded more urgent. “Bass! Listen to me! Please, respond!”

Bass didn’t understand why Megaman was yelling. Weren’t his eyes already open? Oh, right… He hadn’t responded. But could he? And if he could, why didn’t he?

What did he need to be able to answer him? Life? What was happening?

For an instant, he could see his own consciousness, a beam of golden light desperately trying to escape the thorny ivy that imprisoned it. All he could do was reach out his hands, searching for something, anything to cling to.

[FATAL ERROR]

[FATAL ERROR]

[FATAL ERROR]

His entire system was collapsing.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

“Do you know who I am now?” his reflection asked.

“Yes” he knew now.

The one behind the mirror was Bass.

He didn’t have all the answers about what that meant. But for the first time, he felt there was something more important than defeating Megaman.

There was a mystery to uncover, and somehow, that brought him an unexpected sense of calm.

A new mission emerged, a question he now had to answer: Who is Bass?

As he pondered that, a cloud of sweet perfume enveloped him, filled with caramelized notes. The scent became so vivid he could almost feel its texture, smooth and delicate, like a suede ribbon. It was so fine that it seeped through the thinnest layers of his being, piercing straight to his core.

It was like a delicate mesh, almost ethereal, woven from the finest thread, like a spider’s web. But this mesh wasn’t merely passing through him; it caught the particles of static racing within him, particles that had clung to his being, distorting his perception and entangling his mind. Now, that soft, enveloping mesh was cleansing him.

The static resisted being torn away. It was like a magnet that had been attached to its opposite pole for too long, fighting to stay connected. At times, the static turned into thorny vines that tried to take root in him again, but the mesh remained steady. With each pulse of energy, that imaginary net swept through him, tearing away the thorns and slowly freeing him from what had shattered him into so many pieces.

He heard the sound of a sustained G-sharp note, vibrating in the middle of an abyssal silence. He didn’t just hear it; he could see it. It undulated softly in the air, golden and violet, moving like a colorful fish swimming in calm waters, or like the ribbon of smoke from incense in a windless room. That golden note was the first sign of true peace.

His heart, which had been racing frantically, began to calm down. He hadn’t realized how erratic his pulse had been, but now, the rhythm slowed.
Moment by moment, he felt his body release its tension. He felt suspended, floating on a cloud of calm and serenity—a cloud he wouldn’t want to leave, even if he could.

The words ‘PLEASURE’ and ‘power’ reappeared in his mind, though this time in a different way. The word ‘power’ no longer seemed as imposing, as majestic as before, when ‘PLEASURE’ had fallen in love with it. Something had changed.

‘PLEASURE’ was upset with ‘power’. They argued. Then ‘PLEASURE’ brought its hands to its ‘face’, crying silently. Thick, cartoonish tears dripped from it. ‘power’, bewildered, produced a bouquet of red roses, kneeling to offer them to ‘PLEASURE’. But it, with a resolute expression, raised an arm and pointed far away, signaling for ‘power’ to leave. ‘power’ begged and pleaded, but this time ‘PLEASURE’ was firm.

Bass agreed with the decision. It was obvious to him that “power” was a jerk and needed to go.

‘power’ slowly got to its feet, defeated, and began to walk away. Its figure faded, losing the brilliance it once had.

For a moment, Bass felt alien to himself, hollow without that part of him that had been there for so long. It had been so fundamental to his identity that, in losing it, he thought he would go mad. But now, in the midst of that calm, he understood that everything would be all right.

Mega Man. The hero. The one who had always been his nemesis was now the only one he could trust. And Bass knew it. Mega Man was the only one capable of doing the impossible, the only one capable of saving him even from himself.

He trusted Mega Man. And that trust unsettled him as much as it soothed him. Mega Man had always fought for everyone’s life. He was strong, yes, but he was also generous, an exceptional warrior and a formidable adversary. Bass had seen his determination, that quality that had never ceased to amaze him.

- X -

Suddenly, Bass opened his eyes. Almost immediately, the orange rays of the setting sun forced him to squint.

He was surprised to see the gentle colors of dusk reflected on the metallic surfaces of Wily’s castle. They looked so vivid, as if they were part of a high-resolution photograph.

He raised one hand in front of his face, blinking slowly, wanting to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Then he lifted the other hand. His hands looked perfectly normal. He studied them for a long moment, opening and closing his fingers before his eyes, noticing the creases in his palms, until the experience felt real enough.

That was when he became aware of someone else’s presence. Bass turned his head in surprise, realizing it was Mega Man kneeling beside him.

By instinct, the sight of him made Bass tense, trying to sit up quickly. But as he did, he realized his energy was far too drained to stand without the risk of collapsing.

“Wait, there’s no need for you to get up yet. You need to rest” Mega Man told him.

Hearing that, Bass thought that, even though he didn’t like to admit it, Mega Man was right. He had just gone through a severe mental collapse and needed time to process everything.

“Is this really the real world?” he asked, looking around.

The destroyed metallic structures and the debris scattered outside Wily’s fortress made him assume that Mega Man had already confronted the old scientist and defeated him.

“Yeah… or at least I think so” the other super robot replied, sounding a little nervous “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know… I thought I was going to lose my mind…” Bass said, struggling with brief flashes of the hallucinations caused by the dark energy. And yet, after speaking, he realized something felt strange, he couldn’t remember ever having spoken to Mega Man so naturally before.

Megaman noticed this, feeling—for some reason—a small flutter in his chest, but he made no comment about it. Instead, he admitted with a saddened expression, “Not only that… I think this time you almost really died…”

Bass watched Megaman for a moment and, noticing the sadness in his gaze, felt the weight of his words settle into his mind.
It was true. This time, he had almost died. He had been aware of the immense power of the dark energy tearing his life away, and it had truly terrified him. He had always believed he could sacrifice his own existence in order to prove that he was the strongest, but now, he wasn’t so sure that was truly the case.

“I’m glad you’re still here” Rock said with a small smile, making the Robot Master look at him puzzled, as if he didn’t know what to think about it.

“Why? I’ve only ever tried to destroy you,” Bass asked incredulously.

Mega Man looked slightly surprised, as if he himself wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Well… I guess it’s because I like you. I think we’re very similar… You’re a Super Robot, just like me… Unlike practically everyone else… And I feel like, somehow, I don’t disgust you as much as you always say I do… I think that, whatever the reason is that you want to take me down, it’s not really what would make you happy…”

For a moment, the Blue Bomber wondered whether he should have said that—especially when he saw the confused expression on the face of the one who, until then, had been his archenemy.

«What would make me happy?» Bass wondered.

“Why do you say that wouldn’t make me happy? What do you know about what makes me happy and what doesn’t?” Bass shot back once he managed to regain his composure.

His tone tried to sound like it always did, but it was obvious it was only a façade. Everything that had happened had left him in a vulnerable position, where his defenses weren’t as high as they usually were.

Mega Man noticed this and wondered whether it was a good idea to push any further with Bass. He didn’t want to pressure him. But he truly wanted him to stop seeing him as an enemy he had to destroy in order to feel fulfilled.

“Bass… why don’t you stop fighting me? You don’t have to prove anything to Wily—or to anyone.”

At the mention of the old scientist, the image of Wily in his brown trench coat crossed Bass’s mind again, like the residue of something that hadn’t fully left. And with it came the memory of that relentless rain of bullets tearing everything apart around him… that heart-rending cry…

He remembered confessing that “his father didn’t love him anymore” while clinging to Mega Man, sobbing uncontrollably—and he felt his cheeks burn as he realized that it hadn’t only happened inside his mind, but in the real world.

If Mega Man had already seen him in such a pathetic state, did keeping up appearances even matter anymore?

“How easy it is for you to say that, isn’t it, Mega Man? When all you ever have to do is save the weak. Of course, being as strong as you are, this must feel like child’s play… You think our duels are easy, don’t you?… I’m not even a challenge to you…”

“Bass, that’s not true.”

“It’s true,” Bass shot back. “Do you think I don’t notice? You don’t even take me seriously. The entire duel, you’re calculating your attacks so you won’t seriously hurt me. Always watching my back, like I’m someone you simply pity for not having been able to fulfill his purpose.”

For a moment, Mega Man blinked, feeling slightly taken aback by his nemesis’s statement.
It was the first time Bass had gone this far in a conversation with him, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle what it made him feel.

“Bass, please don’t misunderstand… It’s true that I calculate my attacks so I don’t cause you serious damage, but it’s not because I think you’re weak—it’s because I genuinely like you… I’ve wanted us to be friends since the day I met you…” Mega Man offered him a small, nervous smile.

“Ha! You expect me to believe that?” Bass exclaimed with a bitter smile. “And what exactly is it that you like about me? That I’m always trying to destroy you?”

Rock lowered his gaze slightly, taking a few moments to think. He had never had to put into words what it was, exactly, that he liked about Bass.

It was partly his rebelliousness… That unique code of honor. That obsession with doing everything his own way. The confidence he projected in himself—and that intensity with which he pursued whatever he set his mind to…

“I like that you’re not like the others. You’re not just someone who follows orders. You’re someone who thinks about himself—and who fights for what he wants, no matter what others think.”

Bass frowned, watching Mega Man with something that wasn’t exactly anger, but a mixture of surprise and distrust.

“And let me guess… Since you’ve defeated me again, you just expect me to accept that I failed, leave Dr. Wily, and become your friend—and from now on it’s you and me, some kind of dynamic duo…?”

“That doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea,” Rock said, hoping Bass wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Okay.” Bass crossed his arms, as if that could somehow protect him from what he was discussing with Mega Man. “…And tell me, in your little fantasy, who would take care of me when I need repairs? Your daddy, Dr. Light?”

Rock looked at him for a moment, slightly surprised. He hadn’t expected Bass to ask that.

“Well… I think he would. Or, if that bothers you, I could help you myself. I’ve learned a lot from Dr. Light,” Mega Man replied—only then realizing he might have crossed a line when he saw Bass frown, his lips pressing together as his body visibly tensed.

«Him… repairing me?» Bass wondered, folding his arms tighter against himself, suddenly imagining how vulnerable he would be in front of his sworn enemy—letting Mega Man see what was inside him.

“And who do you think you are? My hero?” Bass asked, unable to completely hide how embarrassed he felt.

“No, Bass… Why do you have to see it that way?”

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” Bass tried to get back on his feet, bracing himself against the ground, but all he managed was to feel dizzy—his vision filling for a moment with multicolored specks.

“Bass?” Rock caught him before he could fall and helped him sit back down on the floor. “I told you you weren’t fully recovered yet.”

Wily’s robot didn’t say anything this time. He was dealing with the lingering dizziness—and his wounded pride.

Mega Man, meanwhile, pulled an unused energy tank from his reserves and held it out to Bass, who eyed it warily.

“Come on, Bass, take it. Your energy levels are really low, it’ll make you feel better.” Rock placed the tank closer to his hand and waited for him to take it.

The Robot Master stared at the energy tank in his hand. His first instinct was to refuse it, but at the same time, his body felt on the verge of collapsing, as if he might lose consciousness again at any moment. This wasn’t the time to let his pride cost him the chance to recover.

So, with a resigned gesture, Bass snatched the tank from his hands and removed the cap to drink its contents.

Never had it tasted so satisfying. It tasted like life. He felt the cool liquid travel from his mouth through his torso, then disperse throughout his body.

It wasn’t until the tank was completely empty that Bass pulled it away from his lips and turned to look at Mega Man, only to find him watching with curiosity.

A drop of liquid had left Bass’s lips slightly damp before he wiped it away with the back of his hand, and Rock noticed—somewhat puzzled—that, for some reason, his mind lingered on that detail.

“What?” Bass asked, catching his breath after drinking so quickly.

“Nothing.” Rock raised his hands nervously in a gesture of peace. “It’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone drink an energy tank that fast.”

In response, Bass merely scoffed and fell silent, staring toward where the sun cast its final rays before disappearing into the darkness of the coming night, until he felt the dizziness finally leave him. And as he watched the first bright stars emerge over the dark veil of the sky, Bass began to question what came next now that he had been completely defeated.

“Do I even hate him?” he wondered, gazing at the moon that had always been there, but which now, against the night’s darkness, seemed more evident. “Do I really hate Mega Man? Do I truly want to destroy him?”

«…Is this really all I can be?» The doubt echoed in his mind.

He had never stopped to analyze that before.

“Do you feel better?” Mega Man’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“I’m fine. I can be repaired. You don’t need to be here,” Bass replied, without turning to look at him.

Rock let out a quiet sigh, wondering why the other robot always had to be so proud.

“I’m not here because I need to be, Bass. I’m here because I genuinely want to help you.”

“Why?” Bass questioned, finally looking him in the eyes. His tone tried to sound angry, but his expression didn’t match it. In truth, he seemed far too overwhelmed.

“…I already told you, Bass. I want to be your friend—and this is what friends do. They make sure the other is okay,” Rock said.

Bass regarded him silently for a moment. He hadn’t thought Mega Man was that serious about the whole “friendship” thing. He had never stopped to consider what it would be like to have a friend. He had never needed something like that. Someone to look after him—and for him, in turn, to look after someone else.

“You’re asking too much,” Bass said. “I couldn’t be your friend.”

The Blue Bomber looked at him, slightly confused, and then asked,

“Why not?”

Bass noticed his insistence. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that Mega Man wasn’t lying—he truly wanted to be his friend, and that realization was starting to make him uncomfortable.

“Because I’m not interested in having friends… I don’t need them,” Wily’s robot replied, averting his gaze once more.

“Bass… you don’t have friends because you need them. Friends are just there because they like being together.”

The Robot Master remained serious, as though he were contemplating the meaning of those words.

He knew that, at any other time, the idea would have seemed ridiculous to him; he would have laughed, would have countered with his buster. But in that moment—right after the dark energy had plunged him into the complete fracture of his psyche—he felt that he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t go back to seeing things the way he always had.

Would having a friend actually do him good? He had always perceived others as nothing more than obstacles. Did he even have the capacity to enjoy someone else’s company?

“It’s okay if you don’t fully understand it right now. I just… I’d like you not to dismiss it completely,” Rock said, respecting his silence.

After that, Bass let out a heavy sigh into the air and, to Mega Man’s astonishment, muttered a dry, almost inaudible,

“Okay…”

It was so strange to hear Bass concede that Rock swallowed before asking,

“Are you starting to feel better?”

The Robot Master answered yes without looking at him directly, pausing for a moment on the warmth in Mega Man’s voice—and how foreign it felt to him. He couldn’t remember anyone ever treating him with such gentleness. As if he were something truly worth tending to. Wily, upon seeing him lying there, would surely have told him to get his heavy rear off the ground before deciding to use his parts to build Zero, his true great creation. Wily certainly wouldn’t have had the patience to wait for him to recover from the dizziness before trying to move him and force him to do something. And yet, his greatest enemy—the one he had relentlessly tried to kill—not only could do that, but did so with kindness.

“I’m glad.” Rock gave him a small smile, even though Bass was still staring at the horizon. “Do you think you can walk now?”

Once again, Bass detected that warmth in Mega Man’s voice and wondered why he was treating him as if he might break at any moment. Did he pity him that much?

“Can you stop doing that?” he replied, irritation creeping into his tone.

“Doing what?” Rock blinked, puzzled.

“That thing you keep doing of underestimating me.” Bass looked at him again, a mixture of anger and frustration in his eyes.

“Bass… I’ve never done that. I’ve never underestimated you. You’re a great adversary, and I know you’re very strong… But something could still happen to you, especially with your energy levels so low.”

Wily’s robot considered those words. He didn’t know what to think. What did Mega Man gain from this? Was he really serious about that “dynamic duo” idea?

“If I could walk, do you think I’d be sitting here on the ground talking to you?” Bass replied sharply.

“Okay… Then let’s not talk. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Rock said, getting the message.

Bass watched Mega Man sit down on the ground about two meters in front of him, remaining silent just as he had promised—and somehow that made him feel calmer, as if, for a moment, no one was pressuring him.

The dark-armored bioroid shifted slightly, drawing his legs closer to his chest and resting his face on his crossed arms while the energy tank did its work.

He didn’t know what he was going to do now. He felt completely devoid of purpose…

Not only had he failed to destroy Mega Man, but Mega Man had had to rescue him from practically himself.

Could he feel any more humiliated?

How was he supposed to face old Wily now and ask him to repair the damage?

Bass reflected that Wily already thought of him as a creation that failed to fulfill its purpose… This defeat would only confirm it.

All that time he had tried to hide it, to redirect his emotions in a way that wouldn’t harm him… But he could no longer pretend it wasn’t true. What Wily thought of him did affect him. He was his father, after all… And it was also true that if he couldn’t defeat Mega Man, his father didn’t consider him useful… It hadn’t seemed like a bad thing at first, while he believed he was stronger than Rock… The problem came later, when he wasn’t. After his first defeat, Wily began to treat him with notes of contempt that hadn’t been there before…

The old man’s contempt drove him to despise him in return and rebel against him—as far as he dared… Yet at the same time, to desperately want to win a battle that only brought him suffering, just to please him…

Bass pressed his lips together as the realization finally settled: all his life—despite how fiercely he had tried to convince himself otherwise—he had only been trying to please Wily and prove that he was useful to him, and therefore needed.

That was the only form of connection he had ever known, which was why he couldn’t understand why Mega Man was sitting a few steps away from him.
Earlier, he had said that this was what friends did—they cared for each other… That friends stayed together because they liked to… He understood the meaning of those words put together, but he had never experienced anything like that.

He understood the world in terms of physical strength. But that framework did nothing to help him process what Mega Man was saying about something as intangible as friendship.

Was being the physically strongest really not that important? he wondered. And yet something inside him felt uneasy at the possibility that it might not be.

After a few minutes, Bass felt his energy restore to an acceptable level and decided to try standing again.

When Rock saw him, he fought the urge to help, not wanting to irritate him further.

“I’m fine now. I’m leaving,” Bass declared once he managed to stand.

“Wait” Rock said, rising as well, using that careful tone he always used with him, the one Bass hated so much.

“What now?” the dark-armored bioroid asked wearily.

Mega Man hesitated at Bass’s attitude, but finally seemed to resolve himself and said,

“Bass… I just want you to know that Wily is wrong… You’re not an object that can be replaced by another.”

At that, the other robot tensed, feeling momentarily embarrassed as he remembered himself crying over Wily while Mega Man held him. Yet at the same time, Rock’s words stirred something deeper inside him—the idea that perhaps there was more to him than being a machine programmed for a single purpose…

“Keep your words to yourself”, Bass replied, pretending the statement hadn’t shaken him as much as it truly had. “What happened earlier doesn’t give you the right to meddle in my affairs”.

“That’s fine. I just wanted you to know what I think” Rock glanced away slightly, noticing that his adversary had put his barriers back up.

“I don’t owe you anything. I asked for help because I was practically unconscious, my senses were severely altered, do you understand? I’m not a coward… And I didn’t ask you to stay with me until I recovered”, said the robot with crimson eyes.

Rock looked at him patiently.

“I know. I wasn’t expecting you to owe me anything… I would have helped you even if you hadn’t asked… And I’m also aware that I stayed because I wanted to… So no, I don’t think you owe me anything… I just want you to consider what we talked about”

“I told you before that I would” Bass rolled his eyes slightly, not wanting to feel so exposed in front of the one who was supposed to be his worst enemy.

“Right. Sorry” Rock offered a nervous smile.

Why did he have to be so kind? Bass asked himself. How could he hate him—and truly want to destroy him—if he was like this?

Was it possible that Mega Man was beginning to grow on him?

As soon as the thought surfaced, Bass tried to drive it away, shaking his head. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with thoughts that unsettled him.

“Goodbye, Mega Man,” the dark bioroid said before turning to teleport back to Wily’s fortress.