This is a Mega Man Fic that doesn't have Mega Man in it at all.
How ironic.

In actuality this is a prequel to the first Mega Man story I wrote that also revolved around Protoman. Although that previous story was a one shot, I had alot of ideas running through my head in regards to Protoman's past, as well as his immediate future after my story. So this will be the first arc, and if I finish this, I will go on to the second one.

I hope you enjoy it...

Cartoon Protoman : I'm sooooooooooo evil!

Me: Yes Protoman... you're very evil...

-

Chapter 1 - Escape From Eden

He could barely feel himself running. Within the turmoil, and the confusion there was most of all fear. There was most defenitely no grace to his movements, and no methods to his madness. He scrambled and stumbled all over himself trying to get as far away as possible from the place he was running away from. He could still remember the sounds, and they continued to echo in his mind as if his head were an empty ballroom with music bouncing on and off the hollow walls. He could hear motors of whirring machinery. He could also recall the scraping of metal on metal as one surface tore itself into another, and most of all there were the crackling of sparks and flame. He remembered those distinctive sounds as if it were the very first things he had ever heard, and he just might have. Were they the sounds of life? Of his birth?

He had too many questions and no answers. All he knew as that he was alive somehow, and for some reason, he was afraid. His emotions attacked him from all sides. He could understand his feelings, but not knowing why he felt such a way. His running fell to a slower pace, but he couldn't keep his feet from moving. It was as if he were subconciously searching for something. His uncertainty only fueled the anxiety inside his artificial body. It took him quite some time to realize that his sporatic movements brought him to an isolated area away from the city. The trees were stacked one upon the other in an endless assembly of wood and leaf, and on top of the trees he could see the branches dancing in the wind along the melodrmatic, and frantic tempo.

He could hear the crickets chirping throughout the forest in the soon-ending dusk, but the darkness was yet to give way to the sunlight for few more hours. The more he walked, the sounds of the forest continued to follow him. His heavy footsteps pounding the ground made for a very rhythmatic base as the scenery contributed in a broken harmony complimenting his shattered and segmented memory. He could finally recall certain images of the place he ran away from, but they were not enough to create a defenitive answer. He could see the bright lamp that stood overhead his waking body. He saw the plaster walls, and the silver trays which gave way to silver tools. His memories were frozen like polaroids, and the pictures ran through his mind like a child's flipbook. This must of been his creation, and the plastered room must have been his Eden. His own conclusions only led him to more questions. It would've been better off if he had just stopped trying to remember completely.

The young and confused robot finally came to a stop when he came across a riverbank. He looked down on it, and he could finally see himself for the first time. His eyes gently approached the running waters, but he was still hesitant, shy even to his own reflection, and afraid as if it would jump out and attack him. He finally grew the courage to look himself in the eyes, and finally face whoever he was.

"This face... I don't even recognize myself."

He stared at himself a bit longer. His face gave him the assumption that he could be no older than a young teenager. With the exception of the light pinkish skin on his face, and the black hair that topped off his head, he was covered neck to toe in red and grey. His eyes were widened, and he could see that his eyes were a discolored grey as well. He didn't stop looking at the riverbank for a second. He forced himself to get use to his own face, and made sure that he would never forget who he was. His fear began to disspate, and he gained control of his senses. Though he was no longer afraid that soon gave way to slight sadness. He was still confused, but even worse he was all alone.

The robot's mind slowly developed his psyche as his self-awareness grew exponentially. He was alive, and he was aware, but he didn't know who he was. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was anyone at all to begin with. The android was simply here, in a forest in the outskirts of the main city. He was just born, but at the same time he was lucid to his existence, his conciousness, and his environment. To be brought into the world without purpose or direction was more like the punishment of a crime. His greatest enemy was his own mind, and when it matured so quickly it brought him only more anxiety. Artificial Intelligence was merely a computer in his head that processed at unspeakable speeds, and because it were a computer, and not human mind, it was not restricted to such phases as infancy and adolescence. There were no limits to the information that he could bring into himself.

It was not without irony, no matter how quickly he was able to mature his thoughts he was helpless, and unable to answer the most important questions. Who was he? Why was he here? What was he supposed to do? The waking daylight gave no further illumination to his unlikely happenstance. The sun peeked out of the trees, and the gray and red android was able to see that the once massive forest was merely a small area of woods that stood next to a vast flat field of agreen and pavement. Over the edges of the park was the city he ran away from. He didn't have the slightest idea what building he was created in. Even if he wanted to, there was no going back. He made his first decision, and that was to run away.

xxxx

The white cloaked man with glasses had his eyes glued on the monitor, his vantage point from the top of the trees. He could see the android clear as day on his screen. His coloring was somewhat morbid, or more possibly ominous. The robot wasn't moving or if at all very little. Its body language revealed that he was being gripped by helplessnes, and confusion shrouded his every option. It was like watching a new born child standing, walking, and talking. The old man looked at him in admiration and ambition.

"So this is the one. The self-concious android that ran away."

He read the research that Dr. Light had put forward. His attempts to create a breakthrough android. Not one that could merely communicate with humans on a service level, but one capable of learning, constructing its own linguistics. An android capable of forumulating independent inquiries. It couldn't be coincidence. It couldn't be a coincidence that just hours ago, Dr. Light alerted authorities that one of his creations had run away from his laboratory. Lo and behold, here it lie, completely within his grasp. His desire consumed him to a point where he couldn't even realize how wide a smile he had on his face. The creation was in his grasp. No one knew where it was but him, but he needed to act fast before the android could attract suspicion or attention.

"Neon, Gallium." In less than an instant, two robots materialized right in front of the old man's face.

"What is your command Dr. Torres?" They asked simultaneously.

He pointed at the robot on the TV screen. "This is your target. You have the coordinates."

Just as he finished his sentence, they were off. His words carried ambiguity, but he knew that his robots were capable of fully understanding their orders, their purpose. All the pieces were placed in his favor, and Dr. Torres had made the first move. There was only to talk to the new born android.

But first things first, he needed to be afraid.

-

Wow. How about no dialogue whatsoever? Sorry, this was mainly an expository chapter. Describing the characters, the scenery, and all that good stuff they told us to describe in our creative writing classes.

So how did i describe Protoman? No blaster, no helmet, no shield. Why? This was Dr. Lights first android before any of the labor robots were created. There was no intention of creative a combat android, so I just came to the conclusion that none of those modifications existed at that point in time.

I'm not exactly sure how long this story will be. But I sorta know how it will end. So that much is good right? Any input will be apprciated, even if its bad. I know it's easier to be hated than loved.

"This face... I don't even recognize myself."