This story is a continuation of Mimiru1618-forever's "A Beginning to a Most Fateful End". I actually wrote this teaser first chapter to help her find an satisfying origin of her character, but it ended up sparking up her entire works. I wished to write a continuation, of her future, and X's as well. This may not be the most accurate telling of the 100 years during Zero's sleep, so please take no offense! Thank you, and please enjoy.

.net/s/4771155/1/A_Beginning_To_A_Most_Fateful_End

X had lost count on how many hours he had been at work. How many days, weeks, months; sense of time had slipped away, much like smoke spiraling through one's fingers. His mind remained only directed on the task at hand though, never allowing for anything else. Shunning society, human contact, and contact of other beings, such as the Reploids whose race he belonged, he remained locked away in his own private quarters.

Those very quarters became less his living arrangements, and more into a sort of lab. His surroundings consisted of a small, but spacious room, walls yellowing with age with long, map-like vein cracks slithering along them, and patched with dull, scarred metal plates. There were very few light fixtures, X having preferred to rely on his sharper senses to work than to light that would only show his pitiful arrangements.

And despite the appalling state of disrepair he resided in, X seemed to thrive in this kind of atmosphere. His small experiments and constant toiling away at his duties offered a splash of hectic energy to an otherwise lonely existence. It also soothed memories.

Several decades before, X had promised himself he would not dwell on the disheartening memories he held in his mind. It brought no good, and only furthered to weaken his already fading resolve. Unfathomable amounts of thoughts and experiences had plagued him for longer than he cared to recall, and slowly, it became more and more difficult to repress the ghosts of his past. Although it had almost been a full century since the bloody rebellions that tore the world asunder, just the fleeting mention of these times opened old, fragilely healed wounds in X's heart. Finally, he was able to dismiss these unpleasant notions. He set his mind on the task at hand.
X's face, long since blanked and smoothed into a permanent mask, finally shifted into a ghostly smile. Past wrongs would be righted. Horrors and pain would be bandaged and allowed to heal…
If only his plans would succeed. On his already burdened shoulders new, more important tasks had been placed, and he spent every moment now in this haphazard little laboratory, perfecting what he would call the vanguard of his dreams, his hopes and his needs. He would finally offer what small population of Humans and Reploids what they deserved. Or so he hoped. With every fiber of his wasting being, he hoped.

He stood now before what appeared to be a table. He had been staring down for hours at his own creation; a thing built by his own hands. The time had finally come to test if his skills would be enough to achieve his dreams.

Eyes as pale as jade fell on its face, and he smiled his specter grin. The Reploid before him was waking, and with relevance, he watched her-there was nothing that made a Reploid a specific gender except for its personality and appearance, and he had decided this first subject beforehand was to be female.

Anxious, he hovered close by her side, and finally, a pair of somber azure eyes opened, rotating towards his face. Elated that she saw him, X's smile became much more sincere, but he quickly checked this excitement back. He'd have to have a better handle on himself in the future, and although eager to speak with his creation, his 'Gamma', he waited a long moment before he spoke to her. He only hoped she would stay online until he was through with his inspection. Being a 7th prototype, there were always… risks.

It was time to test this theory, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. "Hello there, Gamma. I welcome you." He noted her expression, a small frown like twist of her features, then continued his speech, trying to keep her attention. "I am very glad to see you are awake, my friend…" X halted for a moment, worried. Again, he was unsure if he was ready to let go of the first contact with sentient life, but he pressed forward, "But I am afraid this is not your place, nor is it your time to be truly awakened. You are special." X was not sure if what he saw on the Reploid's face was fear, or confusion painted there as Gamma shifted in place. Anxious, he continued.

"Do not worry, Gamma… You will see me again, when you next wake, and everything will become clear… You will know then, what your purpose is. Rest now, friend."
He was not ready to hear her voice, knowing he would only reject his plan, and keep her there with him in the cold, dark lab if he listened to another sound other than his own words. He reached for her face, and gently pressed his palm into the crystal there; the source of her energy, like many other Reploids before her possessed.

As he watched 'Gamma' slip back into a silent, disabled state, he sighed. His hand found a tiny pad of keys, fingertips dancing along the numbers as he sent the large table holding the Reploid backwards. It shifted and set itself in place, a sealing capsule sliding over Gamma's sleeping form. The table-capsule receded into a wall, which into a closed, large, cubby like compartment. Sighing, he then turned away.

How many years would he waste away here? How much longer could he honestly? He drifted away from that corner of the room to sink into an old, tattered chair, feeling the frame bite into his back and legs, which had become weak over the decades. He had refused to have his body upgraded, seeing little point in the futile gesture to prolong his existence. He needed no special treatment, he had never been one to stomach it anyway.

Uncomfortable, and yet content with his day's work, he drifted in and out of awareness, letting his mind shift to incoherent thoughts and memories that remained too muted for him to recall them clearly. Dimly, he remembered one thing.
Tomorrow, he would continue his work, and over the next several months, he would slowly and surely take his goals into his own hands.