Proto frowned hugely as he regarded the swelling sea of TV and newspaper reporters that swarmed before the main doorway of Light's lab. A muffled roar of miscellaneous voices rose from the crowd, but every individual was generally asking Proto Man to grant the same request: they wanted to know exactly what had happened when Mega Man had killed Wily. Accident or not, Wily's death was big news.

Proto began to sway a little, feeling oppressed by the flashing camera bulbs and sound of rattling papers that emanated from the tangle of people. He never took well to crowds, noise or confusion, and the very scent and stand - offishness of most humans always gave him an icky feeling in the back of his throat.

The tide of reporters was creeping up to the door of the lab that Proto stood in, much to his dismay. Their glittering eyes and eager expressions reminded Proto uneasily about the pack of compies he had faced not long ago. Frustrated, he waved his arms at the persistent buggers.

"Go away! We're...closed or...or...something!" He shouted angrily.

One of the reporters in front, a young human male, tossed Proto's advice right over his shoulder and into the wind as he took a step closer. "Proto Man, how do you feel about the fact that your brother murdered Wily?"

"For the fifteenth time, he didn't 'murder' anyone, you ijit!" Proto snarled, but his voice was lost in the growing din. He raised it again. "Wily's death was an accident. Now get out of here! ALL of you!! Go home and curse your mothers for ever bringing such slow, deaf idiots as yourselves into this world!"

"Please, just one interview with you!" One of the reporters pleaded.

"No! Go home!"

"How about Dr. Light? Can we speak to him?"

"No. The Doc has...uh, the Doc has ebola."

"Impossible!" The reporter scoffed. "That disease was wiped out ages ago!"

"Yeah, well, uh...this is one of those new strains. You know, the magical kind."

"Okay, whatever. What about Mega Man? Can we speak to him?"

"Dear Creeping Gods, no! Mega Man has...has...forgotten how to speak English."

"How can that be? Robots don't forget!"

Proto offered the bewildered reporter a wry grin. "I guess that makes Mega special, doesn't it?"

Back inside the lab, Mega was a mess, which is a hell of a lot less funny than that may sound. He was trembling, and wearing the expression of a whipped dog. The sounds of the activities of the reporters outside wafted to his ears, constantly reminding him of what waited for him out there. A pack of half-starved wolves, ready to tear him apart in a second with inquires.

Doc Light leaned heavily against one of the lab walls near his frightened 'boy'.

"All right, Rock." He drawled. "Calm it down, and tell me again, in your own words, what happened..."

Mega was a little reassured by the monotone yet soothing voice of his creator, so, in a shaky voice, he told the story of his 'revenge' all over again. As Mega concluded his story, Light rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. There was the ol' migraine attack again. "Okay, folks...let's not panic. It was an accident. Maybe everything will turn out all right."

Light was interrupted by the familiar clang of metal boots echoing down the hall. A cranky Proto Man bust into the room. Wordlessly, he headed to the kitchen, and stormed out a few minutes later, brandishing an armful of potatoes. The maroon and silver bot was muttering something about "Getting rid of those damned reporters even if he had to stoop to juvenile acts to do so." Seconds later, muffled shouts and dull explosions could be heard as Proto gleefully whipped the tubers at the reporters, cleansing the doorstep of them, if only temporarily.

Mega shifted uncomfortably, and cleared his throat. There was one scrap of info he had been withholding from his family this whole time, and that was about that odd blond-haired robot he had encountered shortly after Wily had bought the farm. He had withheld the info until now, because the sight of that robot had seriously scared him halfway out of his mind. There was something about it that he couldn't put his finger on. It was as if the robot had radiated a disarming, malignant power that was almost unworldly. And those penetrating eyes didn't belong to any sort of regular robot. When Mega tried to recall them, the memory summoned an immeasurable fear into his heart, a feeling he didn't really enjoy.

"Doc...?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't tell you this before. I met a new robot when Wily was...uh, iced."

Light dismissed this with a simple wave of his hand. "Never mind that. Wily was always dingaling with mechanics, and always coming up with new warriors..."

"No Doc." Mega's voice was quiet. "This was different. Much different."

"What was so different about it?"

Mega suddenly looked small and helpless, as if his soul had been yanked out of his body by the devil. "It was...just...I don't know! It was just so humanlike. Hard to explain."

All the air rushed out of Light's weary lungs. His head began to throb at Mega's last words.

Mega and Roll looked at the Doc with concerned interest. "Something wrong, Doc?"

Dr. Light did not answer. His mind seemed to be coated with a fuzzy panic. He steadied himself a bit fixed his eyes on Mega.

"Rock..you said that this robot was 'humanlike'? In what way?"

Mega shrugged. "It's really hard to explain. Its actions and emotions seemed richer and more real than any of the other robots there. Like a human or something."

Dr. Light's world crashed. This was it. Wily really HAD used those reploid plans that Bass had stolen so long ago. He had built a reploid. Dr. Light didn't doubt it, even if Mega's description of the robot had been vague. And there was little doubt that the reploid would be put to ill use. Even if Wily was dead now, there was an excellent chance that the twisted scientist had told the reploid what to do with its future life, i.e. kill humans, cause general destruction. Also, there was a vital hibernation period of at least thirty years that reploids needed to go through to make sure that their advanced minds will develop enough to be able to tell the difference between right and wrong. It was crucially important that they had judgment, as a reploid's conscience was the only thing that would keep it from blasting all sorts of neat stuff. Dr. Light had written that clearly on his notes. He prayed that Wily would at least have HIS reploid go through the hibernation process so that it would be a bit more stable.

Dr. Light fell into a chair behind him and did some quick calculating in his head. He was sure that Wily WOULD have the reploid hibernate. Wily was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. On the notes, Light had indicated that he was going to put his own reploid into hibernation, should he ever create one. Wily would likely realize that an unstable reploid is not a happy reploid, and would do the same. Oh, this was going to be a fun future.

"Hey Doc. You die?"

Mega Man's inquisitive voice brought Light's thoughts thundering back to the present. Roll stood beside her brother, a look of concern etched into her face.

The Doc snapped out of his trance and began to speak in a hushed voice. "What you saw at Wily's fortress, Rock, was not a robot. It was a reploid. There's a world of difference, and I'll explain it to you later. But I'll tell you this much. Reploids are dangerous. Very much so. I should know: I created the plans for the construction of one, but I never carried them out because I was fearful of what they were capable of. But your little friend, Bass, stole them a long time ago when he ransacked the lab. Back then, I told you he hadn't really taken anything of very great value, but I was lying. Wily has obviously created a reploid that'll wreak havoc in the future. I can't allow that to happen. I created the plans, and they were my responsibility. I have to find some way to retaliate." He slowly rose to his feet, his body creaking in protest to this movement. Sighing, Light was reminded that he had little time.

"Rock, hear me out for a second...."

Proto was painfully aware of the fact that he was running out of creative ways to scatter the reporters from Light's door. He involuntarily cried out as the flash from a camera lit up the world for a second. Even with his visor, Proto was extremely sensitive to light.

When the spots cleared, Proto was suddenly hit by an idea that made no sense at all. In other words, it was perfect. He dashed inside the lab as a streak of silver and returned to the reporters with a cellphone in his hand. He fixed the journalist in the front of the mass with a friendly smile.

"Hey. Your mother's on the phone."

At these words, the reporter's eyes grew to twice their normal size. A scream escaped him as he whipped around 180 degrees and began to claw his way into the crowd.

Proto chuckled as he listened to the dialtone in his ear. "I'm surprised that worked. Maybe his mother was a psychotic rodeo clown. Wouldn't surprise me. Humans are so messed."

John Winnik, a famed journalist from the popular newspaper known as the Daily Blah, averted his sickened gaze from Wily's cold body to the unconscious forms of the robots strewn around him in an uneven pattern. Several reporters milled about the fortress, writing down various points, snapping photos, etc. John's partner, Sean Mac, whistled as he regarded the mess.

John turned to his friend and jabbed a finger at the jumble of robots before him. "Do you know which one of these is that bastard, Bass?"

Sean shrugged. 'No clue. Why?"

"I was hoping to pry off his arm and use it to patch the gaping hole in my living room window! I'll never forget that tank attack."

"Mmm. How touching. So what's gonna happen to this lovely fortress now that Wily is kaput?"

John peered at the dripping, dank grey stones that surrounded him, and breathed of the unpleasant, stale air that swathed him. "I guess we'll just have it torn down, and give the robots to the Robot Museum. This place is an eyesore."

Sean nodded in agreement. "Uh, so...you gonna take a picture of Wily's body, or what?"

John was taken aback. "No thank YOU. Why don't you do it?"

"I can't point a camera to save my life! Besides, I thought Sy was your photographer."

John snorted. "Yeah, well, Sy ain't here now, is he?!"

Sean shook his head numbly.

John roused himself and clapped Sean on the back. "Tell you what! I'll take the picture of Wily's body, and you go call Sy's wife and tell her that her husband was devoured by a booby- trap full of alligators! Sound fair?"

Proto was thankful for the onset of night. It was the time of day that the reporters shuffled away from the Lab and allowed Proto some peace and quiet until the reporters would return at dawn's first light, and the torture would begin anew.

The night was perfectly still and the sky was crystal clear. Proto gazed up at the starts which hung in the ebony blackness like majestic, shimmering lamps, tributes to an awesome, ages-old heavenly power that no race on earth could completely comprehend. Taurus and Orion were locked in their eternal, starry battle, as were Draco and Hercules. A dreamy smile crossed Proto's face as he fell to his favourite pastime: counting stars. "One...two....three...four...five...six...seven...eight..."

Proto was interrupted at seven hundred and three by a sullen clang beside him. He turned his helmeted head to see Mega Man sitting next to him. The small blue bot looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

'Something wrong, Rocky Horror?"

"Yeah." Mega's voice was unusually heavy. "Light just gave me a sneak preview of the future, and it doesn't look pretty. Did the Doc ever explain to you what a reploid is?"

Proto recalled the argument he had had long ago with his creator about the safety of the plans. Slowly, he nodded.

"Well, " Mega continued, "it seems that when Bass ransacked our lab all those months ago, he stole the Doc's plans for a reploid, and Wily built one of his own. The Doc didn't tell me that the plans had been stolen at that time, because he didn't want me getting too 'a ngry'. I don't know what he was talking about when he said that."

"Hmmm...that's a bugger."

Mega picked up a rock and threw it into the darting shadows of the trees. "I haven't even gotten to the worst part. The Doc says that the reploid is probably even stronger than me. Besides that, we have NO idea when it may attack. Reploids' minds are very advanced but also very unstable. Because of this, a reploid may attack anyone...even its own creator. But if it hibernates for at least thirty years, its mind will become more secure. The Doc says he has reason to believe that Wily's reploid will go into hibernation and wake up in the future to cause trouble, which is most likely what Wily wants it to do." Mega paused. "Dr. Light wants me to be around in the future to retaliate any attacks the reploid might make on society."

"That's a great idea!"

"No. Let me finish, Proto. The only way for me to fight a reploid is to become a reploid myself."

Proto looked blank. "What do you--?"

"Dr. Light doesn't have the time to build a complete reploid, and even if he did, he lost the plans to Bass. But since my mind is almost as advanced as a reploid's, he says he remembers enough of his plans to turn ME into one quite easily. Then he'd put me into thirty year hibernation. There's a very good chance of it working...but I'd lose all my memory of my life as a 'bot."

"But that would....suck!" Proto mentally cursed himself for not using a word that was a bit more compassionate.

Mega stirred. "Yes, it would. But I'm going to accept."

Proto actually became frightened at the thought of losing his brother. "No! You can't. I'LL take your place!" He said lamely.

"Wow, one of your first unselfish acts towards me! Excuse me while I have a heart attack." Mega grinned teasingly. "Anyway, this is something I need to do. Humans in the future are gonna need to be protected against this 'reploid', and I'm the only one who can do it. I WANT to do this. Wily may be gone now, but that doesn't mean that crime etc. will just vanish into the air. You need to stay and protect this time period. I'll handle the future. Don't worry."

The brothers sat in silence for a second, listening to the distant whirr of crickets in the evening's heat. Proto's voice ruined the fine stillness.

"So...is the Doc gonna transform you right away?"

"No. First I gotta pay a visit to Auto's shop and get the right materials."

"Hm. On your way, you think you could stop at K-Mart and fetch me a new scarf...?"