MegaMan NT Warrior (Rockman) Fan Fiction ❯ my life ❯ Chapter 1
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By: Dark_Hound 
Anime/Manga: MegaMan NT Warrior (Rockman) Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.24.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 624 | Visits: 343 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: MegaMan NT Warrior (Rockman) Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.24.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 624 | Visits: 343 | Status: Completed
Dark's eyes snapped open. The Reploid lay flat on his back, now staring up a the darkened ceiling of his sparse quarters. It was always like this. Whenever he allowed himself to do this, to let his body recharge in the Reploid equivalent of sleeping, it was the same. As he let his defenses down and his body automatically reset and charged his systems, he would see them. Hear them. Vague faces and voices. Feelings of anger, love, pain, and friendship. These were all things he couldn't truly place the origins of. They were just there, somewhere, in his memory banks... somewhere that he just couldn't seem to reach on his own.
Sitting up in his bed, he swung his feet over the side of it, staring blankly at the room's door. Or the direction that it was in, anyway, given that his room was pitch black. The concept of Reploids sleeping and experiencing dreams were things Dark imagined most humans would have a tough time comprehending. They were robots, and to do such tasks most likely appeared weird. To humans, anyway.
Dreams to them were more like memory backlogs that resurfaced at random when a Reploid's mental defenses were at their weakest. This was typically during their recharge cycle. As far as Dark's memories went, or the lack of them for anything but the past year or so... any time he slept, it was a very confusing experience. He would see things that he knew he should recognize, yet try as he might, he never could. It made him feel helpless, almost frightened, to be faced with all of these images and yet not know how they fit into his life.
Needless to say, Dark didn't like to sleep. It was necessary, however. He just made certain he was only down for as long as he needed, and no longer. A Reploid didn't have to "sleep" for as long as a human, nor as often. Dark, in particular, found that he could go for far longer than any other Reploid in the Resistance base. The fact that he was a very unique Reploid was a given.
He could remember why he was unique.
Tapping his bed, which was horribly stiff and something that would probably give a human back problems, Dark frowned. It did suddenly strike him that there was something out of place about him being able to recharge like this without any exterior source beyond the Energy Crystals that powered Reploids.
In his last dream... he had actually been awakening from another dream. More like a nightmare, actually. In that, he had been in some sort of... pod. That's what he thought, anyway, but it was so brief... Still. It made waking up in a bed come off as slightly odd for him.
Dark Hound just shook his head to himself as he got to his feet. How he slept didn't really matter. He was awake now, and wouldn't have to sleep again for a few days. No need to dwell on all of that.
The Green haired Reploid was still suited up in full armor, aside from his helmet which he knew was lying around somewhere on the floor. He knew that the other Reploids found the fact he never went without his armor strange. They couldn't fathom how he could possibly be comfortable in it. Yet, he always found himself the most uncomfortable without it. He was a warrior. He had been built for that purpose, that much he was certain of.
The door to his room opened, and he emerged into the hallway. The entire base was quiet, and any sound he made echoed off the walls
Sitting up in his bed, he swung his feet over the side of it, staring blankly at the room's door. Or the direction that it was in, anyway, given that his room was pitch black. The concept of Reploids sleeping and experiencing dreams were things Dark imagined most humans would have a tough time comprehending. They were robots, and to do such tasks most likely appeared weird. To humans, anyway.
Dreams to them were more like memory backlogs that resurfaced at random when a Reploid's mental defenses were at their weakest. This was typically during their recharge cycle. As far as Dark's memories went, or the lack of them for anything but the past year or so... any time he slept, it was a very confusing experience. He would see things that he knew he should recognize, yet try as he might, he never could. It made him feel helpless, almost frightened, to be faced with all of these images and yet not know how they fit into his life.
Needless to say, Dark didn't like to sleep. It was necessary, however. He just made certain he was only down for as long as he needed, and no longer. A Reploid didn't have to "sleep" for as long as a human, nor as often. Dark, in particular, found that he could go for far longer than any other Reploid in the Resistance base. The fact that he was a very unique Reploid was a given.
He could remember why he was unique.
Tapping his bed, which was horribly stiff and something that would probably give a human back problems, Dark frowned. It did suddenly strike him that there was something out of place about him being able to recharge like this without any exterior source beyond the Energy Crystals that powered Reploids.
In his last dream... he had actually been awakening from another dream. More like a nightmare, actually. In that, he had been in some sort of... pod. That's what he thought, anyway, but it was so brief... Still. It made waking up in a bed come off as slightly odd for him.
Dark Hound just shook his head to himself as he got to his feet. How he slept didn't really matter. He was awake now, and wouldn't have to sleep again for a few days. No need to dwell on all of that.
The Green haired Reploid was still suited up in full armor, aside from his helmet which he knew was lying around somewhere on the floor. He knew that the other Reploids found the fact he never went without his armor strange. They couldn't fathom how he could possibly be comfortable in it. Yet, he always found himself the most uncomfortable without it. He was a warrior. He had been built for that purpose, that much he was certain of.
The door to his room opened, and he emerged into the hallway. The entire base was quiet, and any sound he made echoed off the walls