Heres my next installement. Sorry about the leet but it shows how the computer is suffering errors like in (TRON 2.0)
Alan looks at the screen nervously rubbing his hands through his hair. He adjusts his glasses and looks at the screen. Flynn flings his arms up in the air cursing and kicking all over.
“Flynn please!” Alan cries out. “He’s gonna die if we don’t do something!”
“Dammit! I killed him! You were right the whole time! Why the hell did I do this! Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT!” Flynn slowly calms down and walks over to Alan and asks the obvious question. “What are we gonna do?”
“I’m gonna attempt to fix the line errors, and I can guarantee it won’t be easy.” Alan says without looking at Flynn. “I really don’t understand how this works. It’s as if the computer is interpreting genetic code.”
“What if you can’t fix it?” Flynn, almost angrily, begs.
“I’ll have to . . . delete him.” Alan quickly inputs some commands into the computer
Meanwhile . . .
Inside the realm of the computer, an energy, deadly, and possessing a terrible destructive power, lurks near a rez-in station. The glowing green circuitry and cracks of green light shine all along the body of what was once Rob Jameson. Several programs, mostly converted guards left from the MCP’s reign, flee in fear of corruption. Suddenly Dumont walks forward, his circuitry embroidering his long robes, he signals someone to come closer.
“Over here!” Dumont commands, his elderly visage showing a determination that cancels out his fear. Suddenly a figure steps forward. His circuitry that covers his armor and body, glowing a bright blue, is revealed to the open. The figure is none other than Tron, legendary program and defeater of the tyrannical MCP. The serious expression on his face amazingly remains as he stares down the corrupted Rob.
“Have we been given a command?” Tron asks Dumont.
“None for you, but Rep has been called in.”
“Rep? What’s he gonna do he’s a repair bot, couldn’t fix this mess if he tried.”
“Well that’s the user’s orders. I say we stand back and wait for him, or the users to give up so we can de-rez that abomination.”
They stop their conversation to hear a zipping noise emanating from around a corner. They see a lone program in some sort of one wheeled cycle. He zips up to Tron and Dumont’s position and steps off his odd little vehicle, reminiscent of a light cycle. Instantly, the vehicle changes into a wireframe and disappears entirely. His blue circuitry glows strongly and full of emotion.
“Wow, this must be serious if the legendary Tron is here! This is an honor.” The program cheers. “The names Rep, short for Repair, of lines of course.”
“You came just in time, have fun.” Tron sarcastically comments as he points to the corrupted horror. Instantly the expression on Rep’s face changes.
“Okay I can do this.” Rep reassures himself. He walks over to Rob as slowly as he can. As he proceeds he pulls out a glowing translucent keyboard from a section of his forearm circuitry. He gently types in some figures and on the side of Rob a screen appears. Rob gently peers at it and retypes in some numbers into the results the screen displays.
“What are you doing to me?” Rob barks at Rep, his voice horrible low and disfigured.
“I’m trying to repair you, just don’t hurt me and I can help.” Rep calmly replies.
Alan sees the same figures on the screen. Only to see what cannot be accomplished.
LIN35 264946, 15638364, 3456484, 6602740, AND 78538956 C0NT@IN ERR0RS.
ISPL@YING FULL LIN3
“Dear god it won’t stop! We can’t repair this!” Alan screams. “Our repair bot can’t fix something this complicated; I don’t even see any errors!” Flynn realizes that what must be done is unfortunately the worse option.
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