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Bass rested his head on his hand, bored, as he listened to Wily speak.
Both of them were seated at the dining table in the castle. It was a rainy night, and the sound of droplets pattering against the tall windows could be heard in the background.
A moment ago, the elderly Doctor had called for him. Bass thought he was going to inform him about his next plans to get rid of Megaman. However, when he saw him arrive, Wily uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass.
“Would you like a drink, Bass?” he asked.
For an instant, Bass thought about answering with the first thing that came to mind. Now you want me to drink? I thought you said I was just a child who didn’t know he was a child. But that phrase remained suspended inside him, unable to find a way out.
“No,” he said at last, in a cold tone. “Drinking that does nothing for me.”
“Well, your loss, then. Just take a seat,” Wily muttered from the head of the table, offering him the chair beside him.
The young robot looked at the chair and at his creator for a moment, with an expression that hinted at doubt, but finally, annoyed, he decided to sit down.
“Do you know what my IQ is, Bass?” Wily asked him.
“No. Why would I need to know that?” he replied with disinterest.
“I have an IQ of 212, which makes me not only a genius, but gifted.”
Bass blinked once.
“Did you seriously call me here for this?” he asked, not bothering to soften his tone.
Wily made a vague gesture with his hand, as if brushing an annoying thought out of the air.
“Bah, as if you actually had anything to do,” he said. “I just want to have a drink with someone, that’s all. Or can’t you even do that for me?”
The robot said nothing, and in response only let out an irritated sigh. He figured Wily could do whatever he wanted, since he was in no mood to get into another argument with him that night.
“Ever since I can remember, I always questioned everything, Bass… I would think, How can people be so stupid? How can they fail to understand such basic concepts? How can they not see the brilliance of my inventions?”
As he listened to him, Bass turned his head slightly and looked at the wall clock. It read eleven eleven. He wondered how much longer Wily planned to keep on with his rambling.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” the old scientist asked after a while.
“Would anything I said matter?” the young robot replied, looking at him for a brief instant before turning his gaze away, resigned.
Wily slowly shook his head, as if he had already expected that answer.
“Bass, Bass…” he murmured. “You talk as if I had never given you any freedom at all. When it’s quite the opposite. I think I’ve spoiled you far too much. Letting you leave this castle as you please, giving you a dog so you can play at destroying things, not even punishing you for ruining my plans that time…”
“Don’t talk about Treble as if he were a pet. And I don’t understand why, according to you, you’d punish me, when what I did was right” Bass argued.
“Why the hell do you always have to contradict me on everything?” Wily huffed, as if that comment had ruined the taste of his wine.
Bass crossed his arms.
“I haven’t contradicted you on everything. You wanted me to say something. I said something, and it bothers you.” He rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to say, you old blockhead?”
“Enough, Bass.” Wily rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You truly drain my patience. I’m not in the mood.”
The robot watched him for a few moments, assessing him, as if trying to understand something that didn’t quite fit.
“I’ll remind you that you are the one who wanted me to stay,” he muttered at last. “I seriously don’t understand you”
“What is it that you don’t understand?” Wily suddenly exclaimed. “I just want a little company in this damn castle!”
He struck the table with his fist in a burst of frustration. The glass trembled, on the verge of tipping over, and the wine inside stirred violently.
Bass didn’t seem to flinch.
“Then call Raggae,” he replied. “I thought that was why you created that useless birdbrain”
He barely lifted his gaze.
“Why do you want someone you hate so much to keep you company, Wily?”
It was said in such a direct way that Wily remained staring at him, motionless. He opened his mouth to answer, but it took some time before the next words came out of it.
“I” he said, making a heavy pause, “…don’t hate you, Bass.”
His voice was barely louder than the rain in the background.
The young robot looked away.
“I don’t care”
“Do you hate me, Bass?” the older man asked with a certain caution, very unusual for him.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Just answer me, will you?” Wily said.
Bass let out another sigh. It felt to him as if he had been sighing all night.
“No” he answered “I don’t hate you… I just think you’re an old man who’s far too stubborn, and nothing ever seems good enough for you.”
“How strange. I think exactly the same thing, but about you… Not the old man part, but you understand” Dr. Wily suddenly lowered his gaze to the wooden surface of the table. His mind seemed lost in some thought. “…It’s like looking at the image in a mirror…”
Bass rested his head against the back of the chair, wearing an expression of weariness.
“What are you talking about now? Are you getting senile again?”
“Mirrors, Bass” Wily continued, without lifting his gaze “The reflection you see is yourself, but at the same time, it is the opposite.”
“Yes, I know how a mirror works…”
“I mean…” Wily slowly raised his head “If you are my mirror, then… is that what I’m like?”
The question remained suspended in the air.
Wily seemed somehow perplexed, as if he had never considered it before.
In response, the robot let out a weary sigh and turned his head slightly toward the window. The glass was the same color as his eyes, carmine red, and the drops traced paths across it, like snakes sliding downstream. Looking down to the lower floor, he made out some Mettaurs walking over the wet slabs and a few Battons flying toward one of the towers to take shelter from the rain. Just for fun, he calculated the damage he would take if he decided to throw himself from that window. It wouldn’t be much.
“Are you listening to me, Bass?” old Wily asked him, frustrated.
“Yes, you haven’t stopped talking about mirrors” the one addressed whispered with little patience.
The doctor didn’t seem very happy with his tone of voice, but decided to overlook it, if only to avoid arguing again.
“Would you like a real drink?” he asked instead of correcting him. He knew Bass would understand what he meant.
“Well, it looks like we’re finally starting to speak the same language” The young robot put a smile on his face for the first time, even if it was a crooked one.
“I said it was for special occasions, and today could be called a very, very special occasion” Old Wily’s face lit up for a second, as if he had remembered something that only he found meaningful. Then he took a small metal communicator from his pocket and pressed a red button.
“Send an E-9 Tank to the dining room. Now” the scientist ordered.
A mechanized, obedient voice emerged from the speaker.
“Of course, Master Wily. As you command”
A little later, in the teleportation chamber beside the table, the air compressed briefly and a sturdy metal cylinder materialized with a dry sound.
The E-9 Tanks were, in essence, similar to ordinary E-Tanks, but with one notable difference: their high power. They contained a type of refined energy with ultra-accelerated assimilation, designed for extreme situations, when power drained rapidly and there was no room for error. Although they also had another, less documented effect, one that did not appear in the technical reports: they could cause something close to intoxication.
Bass knew that feeling well.
The energy of an E-9 caused a difficult mixture for him to describe: a voltage overload that ran through every part of his system and, at the same time, an intense clarity, almost euphoric, as if the world were reduced to something simple and manageable. He liked it far too much.
But Wily had only let him have one on very rare occasions. He said manufacturing them cost him a good portion of his fortune, and that he couldn’t afford to waste them.
He looked toward the chamber, behind whose glass the Tank lay, ominous, with its red letters engraved into the steel surface, and held back the impulse he felt to lick his lips.
“Come on, why don’t you take it? Go get it” Wily said, smiling at his hesitation.
The robot, hiding his haste well, rose from his chair and opened the chamber’s cover to extract the Tank. He felt the metallic cold in the palm of his hand. The consumption-level indicator light showed that it was full. All that delicious energy just for him… It seemed that, somehow, that night did qualify as special.
He returned to his seat, placing the silver, almost plump cylinder on the table, running his somewhat anxious fingers over the safety seal.
“Tonight, I want the two of us to have a good time, Bass,” Wily said, filling his wineglass again “It’s a special day. Today is my birthday… and I at least want someone to celebrate with me.”
The young robot rolled his eyes slightly, showing boredom, although the gesture didn’t seem entirely genuine.
“Fine” he said “If that makes you happy.”
He twisted the cap. The seal broke with a dry snap.
“Cheers” Wily offered him his glass for a toast.
Bass looked at him a little cautiously before lifting the Tank to clink it lightly against the old doctor’s glass, producing a delicate crystalline sound.
He brought the container to his lips and drank that ultra-refined energy.
From the very first sip, he could feel an electric current rising to his head, slightly altering the way he perceived the space around him. Everything seemed a little sharper, as if someone had adjusted the focus from the inside. What a good drink. It had nothing to do with a normal Energy Tank.
“You know? I’ve done many great things, Bass,” Dr. Wily spoke again. “I solved the theoretical model for a teleporter for human use from prison.”
He smiled to himself.
“You should have seen the look on Light’s face when I proved to him that I could teleport humans, and not only robots. I teleported myself to escape. I was the first human to do it.”
He took a sip of wine before continuing.
“I couldn’t test it on something else first, so I knew I couldn’t afford to be wrong…”
The young robot took another drink from the Tank, raising an eyebrow slightly beneath his helmet.
“How were you so sure it would work?” he asked, with a hint of genuine interest.
“Because I had already traced every possibility in my mind,” Wily answered without hesitation. “I designed the calculations. I knew it would work.”
Bass said nothing in response. He had found himself thinking that it wasn’t possible for Wily to have truly accounted for every possibility, since there would always be some tiny chance of error, but he knew that telling him so would probably only annoy him again. Meanwhile, Wily wondered why he had lost his creation’s attention so quickly. It frustrated him not to understand what was going through his mind. He was like a real teenager. Was there anything that interested him?
“Well, why don’t you tell me what you entertain yourself with when you’re not in the castle?”
“Why are you asking me something you already know?” Bass looked out the window again. A bolt of lightning branched across the sky, lighting his face slightly “I know you like sending spy drones to follow me”
“Yes, and I know you love smashing them to pieces, but come on, would you? You could stop being on the defensive for a moment. You could literally even take off your armor if you wanted to. You don’t need to be wearing it right now. We’re in the dining room of our home.”
“I don’t like taking it off” the robot said.
Wily thought about saying something to him, but chose instead to take another drink of wine. When his hand raised the glass, he noticed his forearm covered by his white lab coat, which he never took off either, and the feeling that looking at Bass was like seeing himself in a mirror returned.
“…Usually, when I go out, what I do is destroy things and take a nap with Treble” the young robot said, drinking from the Tank again before adding: “You already knew that, but I understand we’re pretending you don’t”
“Good” Wily said “You’re getting the hang of it”
He assumed that, despite his pride, Bass was beginning to cooperate. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe.
The older man also looked toward the window. The glass returned his own reflection to him. His aged face, his disheveled hair streaked with gray.
“Destroy things… and sleep” he repeated thoughtfully under his breath, almost as if memorizing the phrase.
Silence settled between them again, broken only by the patter of the rain. A strong gust of wind made the panes vibrate. Wily dragged a hand heavily over his face. As he did, the sleeve of his coat slipped a little, revealing part of his forearm, which was bandaged.
Bass noticed the bandage, but said nothing about it.
Almost immediately, his creator covered himself again, unaware that he had been discovered.
“And what else?” Wily asked, forcing a lighter tone “Is that all you do when you go out?”
“It’s not like I can do much more” Bass replied “I can’t just go strolling around the city, you know? I’m a wanted robot.”
He sighed. He had become a criminal robot, condemned by law to be shut down before he had even been fully aware of what that meant. Which implied that, unless Wily succeeded in his plan for world domination, any idea of freedom would always be something foreign to him.
The scientist nodded, pensive. The alcohol was beginning to lighten his head, to arrange his thoughts in a deceptive way.
“That is exactly what I’m trying to change, Bass,” he said with conviction “When I manage to dominate the world, all robots will be able to live freely”
“That’s not true” the robot muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the window.
Another flash of lightning lit his face.
“What do you mean, it’s not?” Wily flared up “I do look out for robots, something no one else does!”
Bass clenched his jaw.
“That’s not true, and I’m tired of this little game of pretending”
He made a brief pause, gripping the Tank tightly in his hand.
“You don’t care about robots. The only thing you’re interested in is proving to Light and to the world that you’re the smartest one, that’s all. We robots are just caught in the middle”
The words left behind a dense silence, one not even the rain could drown out.
Wily looked at his creation after that. Bass was still looking out the window, but it was clear he was frowning; it was evident even despite the helmet. Why did he look so upset? Did he feel disappointed in him?
Bass… His most complex creation… Did he feel disappointed in him?
Why had thinking about that squeezed his heart?
“Do you really believe that?” Wily muttered, his voice rougher than he had intended “You think I don’t care about you all?”
He made a brief pause.
“You think I don’t care about you, Bass?”
“It’s not that I believe it. I know I don’t matter to you in the slightest” the young robot snapped, clenching his fists on the table.
When the doctor heard him, he opened his mouth to say something, but fell silent, not knowing how to respond. This had stopped being about robots in general. It was personal.
Between him and Bass stood a candelabra with skull motifs, from which green gas flames rose. The fire danced calmly, indifferent to the conversation. Wily watched it as he thought about what his creation had just reproached him for.
Bass thought he didn’t care about him…
Why? He had always let Bass do whatever he wanted… He had spoiled him so much… What other robot had he given a canine assistant to? That had to be the equivalent of giving a little dog to a human child. What other robot did he let leave the fortress grounds as he pleased? He was a special kind of robot, so he gave him special treatment… His other creations were often jealous of Bass, but Bass not only failed to appreciate it, he was convinced Wily didn’t care about him… Did that make any sense?
“Why do you think I don’t care about you?” Wily said, deciding to confront Bass directly.
The boy took a moment to answer.
“The Robot Masters told me you complained that I always ruin your plans” he said “That that’s why you leave me completely out of your missions now”
His voice tightened involuntarily. A knot formed in his throat as he confessed it, and that surprised him.
“You think I’m just a child” he continued “You told me that time when you brought up Zero. You said I was just ‘a child who doesn’t know he’s a child’ and…”
He paused before continuing, as if it took him physical effort to let the words out.
“You also told me that sometimes you regretted creating me”
No sooner had the last phrase left his lips than an intense, fleeting glow lit their faces carmine, and shortly after, a great boom was heard in the background. A colossal bolt of lightning had just struck the lightning rod above the laboratory, so close to the tower where they were that the walls seemed to vibrate.
Wily was left speechless once again. The patter of the rain intensified, as if the sky had decided to take part in the conversation. The drops were larger now, heavier. Bass had his gaze fixed on the lower floor, where several Mettaurs were marching with mechanized steps toward a roofed, stone-paved corridor. It was obvious he preferred to watch, through the window, the entire retreat of the tiny robots rather than face his creator’s expression.
The older man brought the glass to his lips again and, without hesitation, drank all the wine in one gulp. Then he released a deep, heavy exhalation, as if trying to expel with it something that had gotten lodged in his chest.
Of course he thought Bass was a child. How could he not, when he behaved like one? Impulsive, willful, incapable of measuring consequences. A spoiled brat with too much power in his hands. He had always seen him that way, and he had always thought it obvious.
But that obviousness suddenly slapped him back with the force of a boomerang.
Because he had never considered what it truly implied. If Bass was ‘a child’ then he had never allowed him to be one. He gave him weapons, freedom, objectives, and battles as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He had thrown him onto the battlefield as if strength were enough to make up for affection. It made sense that his creation saw everything as a game; how could he not, if no one had explained to him what was really at stake?
In some way, it was as if he had abandoned him.
And not only had he left him alone, he had also hurt him with words that could not be taken back. Telling him he was childish might have sounded easy in the heat of anger, but telling him that sometimes he regretted creating him… That had not been just some meaningless slip… That was cruel.
If Bass had become arrogant, hateful, impossible to deal with… who had made sure he grew up that way?
The answer formed in his mind before he wanted to accept it.
Him.
The thought was deeply unpleasant to him. Because it meant recognizing that it had not been merely a design error or a flaw in character. It had been negligence. His. And something even harder to admit: he had seen a child and, instead of guiding him, had decided to push him aside and move forward.
Wily gripped the glass tightly.
How was it that he had never realized it?
Wasn’t he supposed to have an IQ of 212?
His vision blurred without warning with a layer of tears that gathered before his eyes.
If there was one thing he believed in with solid conviction in his life, it was that robots should have a heart. That had led him to ally himself with Light many years ago. Why, then, had he been incapable of not hurting one he himself had created with such care?
He felt that he was finally beginning to understand him… finally beginning to understand Bass.
“Bass. Could you look at me, please?” Wily asked his robot, who was still looking out the window. His words dragged a little, revealing a certain state of drunkenness.
The young robot turned his head with boredom, although when he saw Wily’s tearful face, his expression cracked just barely, in a surprise he could not quite hide.
“What’s wrong with you now?” the synthetic teenager asked.
“I’m sorry, Bass… I think I really made a mess of things with you” Wily swallowed, though his throat was tight “… I was angry that time…”
He found no way to explain it that did not sound miserable.
“I shouldn’t have said it” he murmured.
Bass let his creator’s words settle for a few seconds, remaining motionless, as if he could not quite process what he had just heard.
He was not used to that expression on Wily’s face. He had never seen him like this.
He looked away almost immediately.
“… I think the alcohol’s gone to your head, old man. You should stop” he muttered, trying to hide just how much that apology had shaken him inside.
Wily let out a light, damp laugh and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Then he blew his nose noisily into his handkerchief. Bass made a slight gesture of disgust at the sound.
“You think I’m drunk already? I’ll have you know I’m quite far from it. I’ve always had a very high tolerance for alcohol” the scientist declared, though his slurred voice betrayed him.
“Whatever you say, old man.”
The young robot took another drink from his steel can, ignoring the warning his system displayed in his field of vision: «Alert. Moderate voltage overload» It was contradictory that something that felt good on one hand could harm him on the other.
“Old man,” he added after a pause “tell me the truth. Why are you acting like this? Does it have to do with the bandage on your arm?”
The question took Wily by surprise. He had thought Bass had not noticed it. Now he knew he had been wrong.
He sighed, resigned.
“Fine. I’m going to be completely honest with you.” The older man paused, looking at himself pensively. “…Today, I truly thought I was going to die”
He lowered his gaze, unknowingly clutching his wound through his coat.
“I activated Zero in suspended state to check his reflexes, and suddenly he was already on top of me. I had never witnessed such speed… such… violence” He swallowed. “He attacked me before I could activate the emergency shutdown, and he managed to cut me deeply. It shocked me to see that, in a single second, I found myself standing in a puddle of my own blood… Perhaps, if I had pressed the button just a few milliseconds later than I did, I wouldn’t even be here to tell you this”
His creation watched him attentively, but said nothing.
He supposed Wily would eventually die, like all humans, but he had not considered that it could be soon.
“That left me thinking… What would have happened if Zero had killed me? Would there be anyone who gave a damn about my death?”
The robot lowered his gaze. His chest felt heavy, flooded by a bitter sensation he would not have known how to name.
“You literally have a city of robots that would cry if that had happened,” he told him.
Dr. Wily shook his head.
“No,” he murmured, as if it hurt him to admit it. “Not all robots are truly conscious. It was one of the first things you and I talked about. Do you remember?”
Those words dragged Bass back to a past that now seemed distant, to a few days after his awakening into the world. It was strange to think about that time, when things had felt so different.
“So… that’s why you called me,” he said at last.
Wily had expected a mockery, some biting comment about the fact that his “greatest creation” had nearly killed him. Instead, Bass’s response was neutral, difficult to decipher.
This time, it was Wily who looked toward the window. The rain had begun to ease, and the wind had turned into a gentle breeze.
“…Yes. I suppose so” he admitted. “Truthfully, I didn’t think about it much”
Bass did not answer. His eyes remained fixed on the green flames rising from the skulls of the candelabra.
Taking advantage of the silence, Wily poured himself another glass of wine.
There you go again, old man, Bass thought.
“Are you planning to stay silent all night?” Wily asked.
“I’m letting you talk” the robot replied “You said you wanted us to have a good time, didn’t you? Why don’t you tell me about the times you kicked Light’s ass? I know you love doing that”
Wily seemed surprised for an instant, but then a wide smile lit up his face.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I made him look like an idiot when I managed to get the autonomous core working after Light had declared before the government that the technology to develop it was still years away?”
Bass hid a small smile. He had heard him tell that story about a million times; he knew every last, boring detail. And yet, he replied:
“Maybe once, but I don’t remember.”
“Good. In that case, I’ll tell you” Wily said happily “You see, a few years ago, when Dr. Light and I were working together…”
As he listened, the robot suppressed a yawn, glancing sideways at the clock. It was close to one in the morning.
It looked like it was going to be a long night.
He lowered his gaze to the steel can he held between his fingers.
…At least he had a good drink.