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"But are the ISOs truly the problem?"
Damian fell backwards, his head knocking against the floor, with a painful thunk. His jaw stung where the end of Talia's bo staff had hit him. He could already feel the wound starting to form there, the coded scars not all too unfamiliar to him.
"Never speak those words again, boy. If you know what is good for you," Talia snarled. She held her bo staff just underneath his chin, making him look up at her. "You should know well that the ISOs are what's infecting the Grid. Have you already forgotten the incident with Abraxas?"
Damian clenched his jaw, stared up at her—bright green meeting bright green. Something about Talia had always reminded him of himself, but he couldn't understand what or why. No matter.
The glow of her orange circuitry burned against him. His blue lightlines were dull in comparison, othering him. One day he would wear a sentry uniform much like hers. Soon, she won't be looking down on him like now.
"No. I have not forgotten."
"Good." Talia retreated, her heeled boots clicking against the ground. "Let's go again."
"Yes, Talia."
Damian stood up and stretched his neck. He picked up his own bo staff and took his stance. Talia smirked and lunged forward.
—
Damian had been a relatively young program at the beginning of Clu's Occupation, trying to get by however he could in Purgos.
It used to be a vibrant sector of the Grid—filled with energy and vigor. It was one of the main production sectors the Grid had to offer, providing jobs to every program available and everything necessary to live.
That was, until Clu happened, and his army took over the majority of the factories and production centers in the city. Many of the programs working there found themselves derezzed or rectified.
Of course, newer programs don't remember it like that. They only know about how seedy the city is, filled to the brim with the lowest of the lows and crawling with criminal activity.
That's how Damian remembers it.
As a slum. That was what Purgos was to him.
So, much like other programs living in Purgos at the time, with no way out and very little hope, he turned to the Occupation. He turned to Clu.
That was how he had met Talia. His commanding officer and his mentor.
—
"Again."
Damian was breathing heavily. He could feel his energy levels depleting the longer he continued. He was sure to die at some point at this rate. Not that Talia cared. Not like she could ever care.
"Y-Yes, Talia," he breathed out. He activated his discs once more, hands shaking as the simulation started up again.
He should be grateful. Not everyone in the army was being given this kind of special treatment. Being trained by a high commanding official, someone inside Clu's circle, was a privilege. Damian was lucky.
Damian found himself standing in an alleyway, flanked on both sides by two masked programs. Three more appeared from the street in front of him. He didn't recognize the city, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was get rid of the programs and annihilate the threat.
Damian made quick work of the programs beside him, derezzing them instantly. He threw one of his discs at the other programs, watching as it hit one of them, just as the other two programs approached. He back flipped, launching his disc at the one at his left and kicking the remaining one to the ground. He caught his discs as they returned to him and plunged one of them into the program's throat.
The simulation changed again. He was now standing in the Game Arena. Damian clenched his teeth. Several programs appeared before him, but he had no exit. He was incased in glass walls from floor to ceiling, leaving him in the complete open. At least in the last setting he could have run away if he wanted to.
Damian growled and put his mask on. He just needed to get this over with. He just needed to make Talia pleased.
With a cry, he lunged at the nearest program.
—
"This what I have trained you for."
Damian watched as Talia paced in front of him. She was nervous, that much he could tell, although she would never admit it and he would never point it out, lest he wants to keep his head.
It's been hundreds of cycles now, and Clu was about to launch a massive attack on the ISOs that were left on the Grid.
This is what Damian had been training for, what he'd been preparing for. It was what Talia had taken him in for—to be a tool for the Occupation, for Clu.
"Do not disappoint me," Talia stared at him pointedly, standing before him with her arms crossed behind her back. Damian stood with his back straight, his sentry uniform crisp and new, orange lightlines growing brightly in the dimness of the Recognizer bay.
"Yes, Talia," he said, ready for his first assignment.
—
Damian sat up in his bed, his head feeling fuzzy. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to ignore how it shook. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in between them, trying to calm himself down.
It has been so long since he's dreamt of the past. It's been more than a thousand cycles since he's even thought of Talia. Not since...
(Damian could still hear it. The sound of her derezzolution. The image of her crumbling seared into his mind.)
He wonders if it's because of how much he's talked about it with Jon.
Jon.
Damian pulled his head away and stood up from his bed, making his way out of his own room and over to Jon's.
Their apartment wasn't anything fancy or big. Just a small two bedroom apartment with the bare necessities. It's not like they were often here anyways, Damian still wonders why they even bother paying the rent, considering how they're almost always away in another city or sector on some mission.
Damian walked past the living room and down the hallway that led to Jon's room. He took a deep breath, wondering if it was even worth it to bother the program at this time. He should just go back to his room and wait until his mind settles. He should just leave Jon alone.
"I know you're there, just come in already," Jon's voice said from inside the room, muffled by the door.
Damian sighed and slowly opened it, stepping into the room. Jon was sitting at his desk, working on his disc. He turned to Damian and smiled. "Hey. Couldn't sleep?" He asked.
"No. I'm too restless," he said, sitting down on the edge of Jon's bed. He watched as Jon scrolled through a color selection on his disc.
"Hm, me neither. Say, what do you think about this color? Do you think it'd look good on me?" He turned around in his desk chair to face Damian and tapped the vibrant pink. Damian raised an eyebrow and watched as Jon's hair turned the exact same pink.
The older program grimaced and shook his head. "Users, no. You look awful."
"What?! No way..." Jon pouted and scrolled through the color selection again. "How about this one?" He tapped on a dark red.
Damian groaned. "No, Jon. What's wrong with your black hair? It looks better that way."
Jon pouted, even though his cheeks were flushed. He shrugged and turned back to his disc. "I just wanted a bit of change, okay? Nothing wrong with that."
Damian sighed and held out his hand. "Give it here, I'll help." He tried to ignore how Jon's shoulders tensed as he slowly handed Damian his disc. "Don't make me look ugly. I'm trusting you."
"Pfft, you do that all on your own."
"Oh, you're hilarious."
Damian chuckled as he got to work. Jon's coding was far more complex than other programs, but it could still perform basic functions. Damian never questioned Jon about it, but he hoped they could have a conversation on the subject in the future. Whenever Jon felt ready.
Once he was done, he handed the disc back to Jon. "There. All done. You can thank me now." Jon placed his disc back into place and stood up to look at himself in the mirror that was placed just beside the desk.
Damian fought a prideful smile as he watched Jon's eyes widening at his reflection. Damian hadn't changed much, he left Jon's hair the same black color it's always been, the only different now were the bright red and blue highlights streaking his hair, matching his circuitry.
Jon smiled and turned back to Damian, sitting down beside him. "Okay, maybe I underestimated you."
Damian chuckled and bumped his shoulder against his. "Only maybe?"
"Considering how old school you are, I had to be a bit worried."
"Oh, please," Damian rolled his eyes as Jon chuckled.
The two of them sat in silence for a bit, letting the energy slowly buzz between them. It was something new, a recent development, and though Damian didn't mind it, he was still scared of it.
"I should get back to my room. We both need to get some rest before work later." Damian stood up and began making his way out of Jon's room.
Jon's hand suddenly grabbed onto his, stopping him.
Damian turned to him, the hopeful look in the program's eyes searing into him. Sometimes he forgets how brightly blue they are, almost bordering on white. It's unnerving, yet enrapturing.
"Stay," Jon says, holding onto Damian's hand, the energy between them concentrated and electric. Damian swallows hard as he stares at their joined hands before giving a silent nod. Jon's smile is wide, almost blinding.
He scoots back on the bed and Damian joins in beside him. He lays on his side, looking over at Jon who stares back at him, still smiling. Then he opened his arms for him and all Damian can do is fall right into him.
His head is pressed against Jon's chest, watching as his circuitry turns into an amethyst color. He tries hard not to smile as he wraps his own arms around the other program, knowing well his own circuitry has turned a light blue, the same color he had before.
Damian is asleep again before he knows it, realizing he was far more exhausted than he thought. Dreams of the past don't haunt him now, as Jon's fingers card through his hair, his presence warm and comforting. Something new, yet scary, but never unwelcome.