Chapter Text
Protoman stood at his post atop a small building, surveying the growing crowd below him. For the moment, Wily's mass-produced security force was holding the crowd at bay, maintaining control. Unrest was not unusual in the city. Wily liked to believe that he had total control, but that was mostly because he refused to believe any evidence to the contrary. Protoman was deeply invested in helping him maintain this illusion.
Wily relied on the security force for day to day operations. Thousands of identical robots, all produced to match the specifications of Light’s original design, patrolled the city and met any infractions with arrest or violence. A single robot alone was not particularly formidable and could be taken out by a small group of people, or by a single person with a decent weapon. It was not unusual for individual robots to disappear or be found disabled or broken. The problem faced by those who opposed Wily was the sheer number of machines, and how easily they were replaced.
Wily continued to manufacture them, and he was cunning in how he used even their creation as a lever of control. Dr. Light had designed the robots in the hope that they would take the most dangerous and physically taxing jobs, leaving the people free to live their lives and pursue more creative endeavors. Instead, Wily deployed the robots exclusively for security. He had total control over them, so they would enforce his whims without question. Meanwhile, every step of their manufacture was driven by human labor. The mining of iron, the smelting of steel, the molding of plastic, were all done by the work of human hands. Automation was employed when necessary or useful, but it was important to Wily to keep the people working and too busy to organize.
Any time there was talk of rebellion, it was just as likely to be quashed by the wealthy owners and the mindless middle managers at the various factories and refineries as it was to be put down by one of Wily's enforcers. The rich and privileged of the city knew where their own power came from, and they'd maintain the hierarchy, no matter what it cost them. There were exceptions, of course, but not enough to ever feel like a threat.
It took Dr. Light 12 years to build Protoman, in part because Light was on the run from Wily and parts were scarce and hard to come by. But also because Light needed his machine to be smarter, faster, stronger, more powerful than any machine built before. He needed to be able to stand up to Wily's entire army and take them down while protecting the people of the city.
Protoman was strong, fast, agile, powerful, and clever, and he would have won were it not for the Robot Masters.
Wily had been working in secret on a new class of machine. Wily was a fairly competent inventor and engineer, but he did not have the genius or the caution of Thomas Light. Where Light's machines were efficient, reliable, and built to serve, Wily's machines were flashy, reckless, and cruel. Wily had the resources to pour into developing these ruthless machines, and their diverse range of weapons made them fearsome and malignant.
Protoman’s design was far superior. If he’d faced them each one at a time, or if he’d not had to actively protect the people from the careless attacks of his foes, he would have stood a solid chance of defeating Wily. But forced to fight all at once while already battle-weary, he had no hope. What’s worse, the people of the city stood by and watched. It’s unlikely that the people could have turned the tide of battle while unarmed and unprepared, but Protoman felt the loss so much more deeply, knowing that he fought for people who would not fight for themselves. As oil and fuel drained from his body, as smoke billowed from his circuitboards, as his senses shut down one by one, Protoman felt abandoned.
When he finally awoke months later, he was in a spotless lab. The site of his rebirth was as different as could be from the site of his origin. Light’s workspace had been dim, dingy, and disorganized. Schematics and tools had lain scattered across the workbench and floor, and Dr. Light himself had looked just as untidy as the room. As unimpressive as that tenement had been, it was Protoman’s first home, and Light had spoken to him kindly while he built him.
This lab he awoke in was bright and organized. The only tools in view were those actively in use, and they were put away as soon as their task was complete. Designs and plans were displayed on large screens along the wall. There were a few engineers who rotated in and out of the lab, working on his various components. Wily came in from time to time to check their progress. But no one spoke to Protoman while his repair was in process. His voice and motor functions had been disabled, so he was not able to ask any questions or look around. He was given no stimulus to help him pass the time, and he did not have access to power himself down. Protoman had no choice but to lay on the workbench in silence, waiting to see what Wily had planned for him.
Eventually, his repairs were completed. Two of the engineers who had worked on him escorted Wily into the room to give updates on the project’s status. Wily oozed a slick charisma, a self-confidence that could convince you that every word he spoke was valuable. He looked over Protoman’s repairs and gave verbal approval to the engineers, letting them know he was finally satisfied with their work. Then he dismissed them and turned his attention back to the motionless machine.
“Hello, Protoman. I know you know who I am. Your creator and I were friends once, and I’m sure he told you all sorts of colorful stories about me. I’m sorry that you can’t speak or move. I can’t take the chance that you’ll hurt any of my people. I can’t let you have control of your body until I know that you understand that we're on the same side.”
Protoman distrusted Wily’s words and was put off by his smugness, but he had no way to indicate that to Wily. He could only listen.
“Thomas Light is a liar and a fool,” Wily continued. “He may know a thing or two about inventing, but he never understood people or how the world works. If he did, he would have left the city alone. Things are going just fine here. Sure, sometimes some poor delusional ingrate will stir up trouble, but that’s just the cost of letting people have free will. My job is to make sure that free will is directed towards the greater good, and that any troublemakers are stamped out before they infect everyone around them.”
Protoman continued to doubt Wily. Light had programmed him to protect the people. Light had believed in people’s goodness and potential.
“Tom was one such troublemaker. But he was one of the dangerous ones, because he really believed he was in the right. But did you look around when you came into town? Did you see how peaceful it was? How everyone can walk around safely wherever they please, as long as they follow the rules? Don't you think that if they were unhappy here, they would have joined you in the fight?”
A seed of doubt took root in Protoman’s processor. He had been troubled that no one stood to fight with him. He had thought it was fear that held them back. But was it something else? Complacency, perhaps? Or were they actually happy under Wily? Protoman began to wonder if he'd actually been a hero, or just an interloper.
“I do apologize for what my Robot Masters did to you,” Wily said sympathetically. “They can be… excessive at times. It wasn't your fault that Tom sent you here. And then he just left you here in that pitiful state. Tom may be delusional, but he's a brilliant inventor, and he made you beautifully. Now that you've been repaired, I hope you will stay and help me protect the city. I know that you can't answer me yet, but think about it. I'll be back tomorrow, and we can enable your voice. Then we can have a little chat.”
Wily patted Protoman on the shoulder. He turned out the light and walked out the door.
Protoman lay alone in the darkness. His eyes shone, but there was little to see in his line of sight. Dr. Light had created him with more cognitive ability than what the other robots had. It had made him quick and cunning, but it was proving to be a double-edged sword. His primary objective was to protect the people of the city, but Light had given him leeway to decide how to accomplish that. As a hostage to Wily, Protoman had limited options. Was there a way he could continue to follow his programming? Or would he have to terminate himself to protect the people?
He spent the whole night considering his next move. He was not able to violate his programming, but because Light had left it so open-ended and given him the ability to think and problem-solve, he quickly discovered that he might have more choices than it had seemed at first. It would all come down to what Wily actually asked of him.
The next morning, Wily re-entered the lab with an engineer. They turned on the lights and approached the table where Protoman lay helpless.
“Enable his speech,” Wily ordered. “Nothing else for now. That will depend on how our chat goes.”
The engineer opened one of Protoman's panels and spent a minute or so enabling his voice. Wily then dismissed the engineer and pulled up a stool. He sat down close to the table, just close enough that Protoman could see him out of the corner of his eye.
“Give me your honest opinion. What did you think of my Robot Masters?” Wily asked.
This caught Protoman off guard. This wasn't at all the way he expected the conversation to go. He didn't know how to answer. Was this a trap? Wily already had him under control and unable to move, so what would be the point of a trap? And his Robot Masters had savagely beaten and broken Protoman. Mentioning them was hardly an effective way to earn his loyalty.
“Oh, come now. I truly want your honest answer. You won't hurt my feelings. Or is your voice still not working?”
“Your Robot Masters are crude and out of control,” said Protoman quietly. “They caused significant collateral damage during our fight. They nearly killed dozens of innocent bystanders. They were only able to defeat me because I was trying to prevent harm to the people. If I had been as reckless as they were, I would have won.”
Wily smiled, the cold, sly smile of a predator who had successfully cornered his prey.
“Crude and out of control is apt,” admitted Wily. “But they're effective, aren't they? Sure, Cut Man is absolutely deranged, and Bomb Man may actually destroy a useful building one of these days, but they do complete their objectives.”
Protoman lay in shocked silence. He couldn't figure out what Wily was up to.
“I had my men take a little peek at your software. Tom’s coding is as disorganized as everything else he does, but clearly it does the job. It's also totally locked down. We couldn't change a thing without rebuilding you from the ground up. I do wish I could ask Tom how he did that,” Wily said, with a chuckle that couldn't hide his resentment for Light's superior abilities.
“Luckily, I don't want to change anything. It seems that Tom programmed you to protect the people of the city, so your priorities align perfectly with mine,” Wily continued. “I've been without a general for my army for some time. Of course, I can control them from my tower, but I need boots on the ground. And I have so many other responsibilities to tend to. Overseeing the everyday minutiae has gotten tedious.”
Protoman wished he'd get to the point. Wily seemed to love the sound of his own voice, and Protoman could see why Light wanted him out of power. But he didn't want to give Wily anything he could use as leverage, so he remained silent.
“I had hoped to use the Robot Masters as my generals, but as you so kindly pointed out, they are crude and out of control,” Wily said, his malice beginning to come through in his voice. He had sounded oily, slick, but congenial so far, but the mask was starting to slip as he approached the crux of the matter. “I need a general who will look out for the people. I think if you lead my army, you can keep the people safe and under control. So, what do you say?”
Protoman had seen where this was leading, but was still surprised at how casual Wily's approach was. He'd expected Wily to threaten him or use brute force. But he made it sound like a mundane job offer. He was skeptical that it was as simple as it seemed on the surface.
“I won't work for you. I may have failed to protect the people of the city, but I'm not going to turn my back on them,” Protoman said resolutely.
“Oh, that is a shame,” Wily said, sucking his teeth in mock concern. “I wish we had this conversation sooner, before my men put so much time and effort into restoring your body. Now Cut Man really has his work cut out for him to get you ready for disposal.”
Protoman refused to say anything that would reveal the horror and revulsion he felt at the thought. Cut Man would likely take delight in causing as much pain and distress to Protoman as possible while disassembling him. But even the fear and distress he felt would not cause him to betray his primary objective and his creator.
“And I suppose that leaves me with no choice but to let the Robot Masters run the city,” Wily said, his voice dripping with disdain. “They get so reckless and overzealous, but they do keep the people in line.”
There it was. Wily's leverage. Protoman didn't anticipate this. The thought had occurred to him that Wily might threaten to use the Robot Masters against him. But he didn't think Wily would stoop so low as to use them to threaten the people. This changed everything. Protoman began running scenarios on his processor, different outcomes that might arise from the limited actions he might be able to take.
Taking no action and allowing himself to be destroyed, placing the Robot Masters in control, would undoubtedly lead to death and destruction. Something about the way they were coded made them cruel and unpredictable. Their abilities tended to cause far reaching collateral damage, even when they hit their target. It would be a disaster. Allowing that to happen was not an option.
Protoman could accept the position as general, and he could try to use it to protect the people from reckless enforcement. Or perhaps he could use the position to get close enough to Wily to take him out. Or use it to get rid of the Robot Masters. Scenario after scenario ran through his mind, and every single one felt hopeless. Wily would have thought of all of these possibilities, and surely had strategies in mind for each. But Protoman did not see any way around accepting Wily's offer.
All of these thoughts took only fractions of a second, but Wily liked to show his hand whenever he knew he had the advantage. He used the very slight pause as an opportunity to twist the knife.
“I wish I could put just one of them in charge. But they get so competitive with each other, and that always leads them to fight for dominance. And those fights always lead to mass casualties and destruction to whole city blocks. Hmmm, maybe I should divide the city into districts. But I can't give Elec Man a district with any hospitals. He always causes power outages, so anyone on life support is a goner.” Wily was relishing the power he had. He knew Protoman would have to accept his offer. Light had a sense of compassion that Wily found pathetic and naive, and that compassion would have ended up in Protoman's programming one way or another.
“Fine. I will be your general, but only on the condition that you destroy the Robot Masters. I can not work alongside them,” Protoman said, his desperation obvious in his voice. He didn't have much hope that this would work, but he had to try.
“I'm glad to hear it,” Wily said enthusiastically. “But I can't destroy the Robot Masters. They're my own design. They're like my children. And I need a backup plan, in case you fail me. But don't worry. You won't have to work with them directly. I'll keep control of them. You just have to oversee the drones.”
Protoman was devastated. He didn't think Wily would agree to destroy the Robot Masters, but it was the only thing he could think to try. But if the Robot Masters were to remain, Wily maintaining control was the worst possible outcome. He tried to think of some other gambit, some other strategy, anything else he could do to try to regain some control of the situation, but nothing came to mind.
Wily patted his shoulder again, in almost a fatherly fashion. Protoman wanted to pull away from his touch but was unable to move.
“I look forward to working with you. I hope you understand that this is the last time you and I can speak face to face. Once you get your motor function back, I don't want you getting any ideas about completing your little mission. I hope you're not stupid enough to try to pull a stunt like that, but Tom is nothing if not idealistic. I can't take any chances that he infected you with that nonsense. After all, the city needs me. Where would they be without me?” Wily was smug. He was certain his victory was absolute.
Protoman continued to lay motionless, unable to do anything at all. He couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't refute anything Wily was saying. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of showing how hopeless he felt, although he sensed Wily already knew.
“Well, I'm going to take my leave,” Wily said, once again sounding congenial. “So many things to do to keep this city running. I'll send someone in to activate you before long. You're making the right choice. This city needs you, and I don't doubt you'll make it a safer, calmer place to be.”
Wily left without another word. He wanted to let all the threats, both spoken and implied, hang in the air behind him. He shut off the lights on his way out, leaving Protoman with nothing but the hum of the monitors to keep him company.