Chapter Text
Chapter 1: System Update
I come from the Grid.
Perfecting its systems, peoples, and cities.
My format: System Admin.
To create the perfect system, according to my vision.
Clu was in a good mood.
The latest sweep of the Grid had confirmed no new ISO activity anywhere, long after the Purge and subsequent hunt for survivors. Corrections had been made to the root code of the Grid to prevent more ISOs from being created, thus if any still lived they would be the last of their kind. Now Clu could focus his efforts on expanding his control over the Grid, by sending his ever-growing army out to the frontier. Any program that resisted would either be derezzed or repurposed to serve perfection, depending on if they could serve a useful function.
On this millicycle, Clu was inspecting the latest occupation force that was nearly ready for deployment from one of the military bases. “Argon will have no idea what hit it until it’s too late.”
By his side was one of his most trusted subordinates, Dyson, who was holding a checklist of everything assigned to the planned occupation. “The last of the recognizers are being coded now. They can be launched tomorrow and arrive at Argon next centicycle.”
However, they were interrupted by a beeping noise that seemed to come from the Grid itself, accompanied by the omnipresent feminine system voice. “Attention: Incoming File.”
“Oh no…” Clu grumbled. He looked up to see the sky take on a golden hue, with electrical surges rushing across the heavens. “This can’t be happening.”
It was a download, which hadn’t happened since before the coup, and Clu had made sure it would never happen again. Flynn was trapped within the Grid, unable to access the system from the outside, and he had been the only User the Grid had ever known. Clu knew that Flynn had never told any other Users about the world within the Grid, having executed his takeover on the cycle before Flynn had planned to reveal it to his world. But now there was a different User involved, likely unaware of what was within the system, and Clu could see all his plans crumbling away.
“Postpone deployment,” Clu ordered. He drew a baton. “I need to deal with this.”
Clu held out the baton to compile the light jet it contained, assembling the vehicle around him and launch into the air. Once above the nearest buildings Clu turned the light jet toward the Citadel, the slanted tower with golden lines along every surface, flanked by smaller towers of military orange. The Citadel was his primary base of operations within the Grid, for it contained the operating core of the entire system. It was possible to reformat sectors from there, but doing so would erase the programs living within them, and he needed them alive for his army.
Fireworks detonated directly above the Citadel, which heralded the enormous circular hole in the sky that formed there. A brilliant column of light shot out from the hole, which came down on the receiving pad atop the Citadel, with Clu racing through the air to get there first. A brilliant flash erupted on impact, the hole in the sky closed, and the normal stellar circuitry returned. Clu arrived nanos later, flying down onto the top of the Citadel, slowing down to a safe speed before decompiling the light jet back into its baton.
There he set foot in front of the large silver container that had been delivered, which was something he hadn’t seen in a very long time, a file loaded from the other side. “Why now?”
He accessed a control panel on the side of the file, wanting to know what was inside. The file was going to auto-execute within the millicycle, regardless of what Clu did, as that was one of many powers Users possessed outside of the Grid. He read through the manifest, which listed the various changes the file would install. Processing improvements, better data compression, general system upgrades, all to be expected from a typical update. New functions were present too, such as free-floating communication windows, and something that didn’t quite make sense.
“Gaming software,” Clu muttered. If it was for the kind of games he liked to watch and occasionally play, he could make good use of this. “Perhaps this won’t be a problem after all.”
He closed the manifest and walked over to a control console nearby, and with a few command prompts the receiving platform descended into the Citadel. This would allow the file to execute early, on Clu’s schedule, as all things should be. The entire Citadel went into lockdown, every entrance sealed by impenetrable blast doors, no one allowed to move in or out. The receiving platform stopped just above the Core, where Clu could directly manipulate the root code of the Grid. He rarely ventured down here, for tampering with the Core was dangerous, and the wrong mistake could crash the entire Grid.
Once the file was in place to be installed, Clu accessed the system notification function of the Citadel, which would transmit his image and voice throughout the Grid. “Attention all programs. Prepare for power down and upgrade. I repeat, prepare for power down and upgrade.”
Clu gave the programs of the Grid a few microcycles to stop using everything that required external power, and anyone that didn’t would be at risk of damaging their devices and vehicles. All the various lines of energy dimmed and nearly vanished, all machines came to a standstill, and all displays went blank. The black sky seemed to get even darker, and any simulated storms seemed to freeze in place. Silence reigned over the Grid, with all the various programs hunkered down, waiting for the upgrade to come and the power to return.
In a flash of light the file disappeared, its code added to the Grid to deliver its contents throughout the system. Already Clu could feel the marginal improvements to his physical attributes, which every program was likely to receive. Within a few nanocycles the entire Grid received the update, and all the new functions were available. Clu gave the command to restore power, which brought everything on the Grid back online. Once that was done, he had the receiving platform ascend back to the top of the Citadel, while the lockdown was lifted and everything returned to normal.
The first new function Clu wanted to try was the communications function, and with a wave of his hand a VidWindow appeared. “Ah, Dyson, I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
Surprised by the pane of glass that appeared next to him, Dyson turned to face the floating window with Clu’s visage on it. “Sir, I was not expecting communications in this manner. How may I be of service?”
“Just testing out new functions,” Clu answered. He could see various military vehicles in the background, along with programs testing out VidWindows for themselves. “Be sure to inspect the recognizers thoroughly. They can get finicky when their code is altered.”
“The techs are on it already,” Dyson said. Behind him a couple of light cycles dashed by, and just out of view they crashed into something. “And the grunts are getting used to new throttles.”
“I see,” Clu said. “Let me know when-”
“Warning: Incoming Game.”
The interruption of the system voice was accompanied by a loud siren, which seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. The sky took on a deep purple hue, as though obscured by simulated clouds, with frequent electrical surges that revealed the stellar circuitry. Clu looked up at the sky, wondering what was going on, until he spotted a hole opening in the distance. The hole in the sky led to a black void, with small bursts of light inside, before an enormous square column appeared and stretched downward, with the same electrified purple color as the sky.
“Warning: Incoming Game.”
“Evacuate that sector,” Clu ordered. He was already taking out the baton for his light jet. “We don’t know what this new kind of game will do.”
The VidWindow closed as Clu turned away, and he compiled his light jet to take to the air once again. He flew straight toward the descending square column, though he knew he would not make it there in time. Every program underneath it was fleeing for their lives, certain that they would be crushed and derezed if they didn’t escape. Clu could only watch as the column contacted the roofs of skyscrapers, which were simply absorbed by the enormous purple mass. Then it impacted the ground, but there was no crater, or any damage whatsoever, even the buildings caught along the edges were intact.
They sky returned to its normal black, the hole up there was sealed, and the top of the game descended toward the base. It stopped as a cube just slightly taller than the buildings around it, its surface flashing with electrical surges, until it settled into a stable shade of purple. Clu landed his light jet on a nearby rooftop and decompiled it, and from there he got a closer look at this game. It seemed to hum with a low but steady rhythm, barely audible above the background noise. However, it didn’t appear to be doing anything, aside from taking up the space for an entire sector.
Clu looked down and spotted a detachment of troops approaching the game, and he opened another VidWindow. “Commander, get this game… cube… open by any means necessary.”
The helmeted soldier nodded. “Acknowledged.”
The soldiers down there got started immediately, first with their ID disks to try and cut into the cube, but the sharp edges didn’t leave a scratch. Then came the electrified staffs, which prodded the side of the cube to no avail. They backed off when the tanks arrived, which opened fire upon the game, with mighty explosions that were all smoke and no substance. Light jets and recognizers flew by and unleashed their fire power on every side of the game cube, but every surface shrugged off the bombardment like it wasn’t even there.
This continued for half a millicycle until Clu heard footsteps behind him, though he didn’t have to look to know who it was. “This is quite the conundrum we have here, Dyson.”
“Nothing we have is inflicting any damage,” Dyson reported. He kept walking until he could stand next to Clu. “We can’t even examine the code it is made from.”
“When the file mentioned gaming software, this is not what I imagined,” Clu admitted. He paused when another explosion hit the game, larger than those before but still doing nothing. “They can cease fire now. Before they derez the buildings around it.”
Dyson used a VidWindow, still get used to them, to convey the order. “Commander, that’s enough.”
The bombardment stopped immediately, and it became very quiet. Clu and Dyson walked to the edge of the rooftop, and Clu looked at the next building across the street. It had been half-consumed by the cube, and yet the half on this side was still intact. Everything along the sides of the cube was similarly bifurcated, as though the purple walls were merely a shroud. Programs in the street began to examine the cube up close, searching for anything that might provide any insights, but they did not find any success.
“Perhaps we should have left some programs inside,” Clu said.
Dyson quickly brought up a checklist he had in hand. “The evacuation was not completed. One hundred and thirty-two programs are unaccounted for.”
“Ah, good,” Clu said. At first he had thought every program caught by the game would have been instantly derezed, but given the state of the buildings along the edges he had reason to think otherwise. “I doubt this game will remain here forever. If any programs survive, we can-”
“Game Over.”
That was a welcome interruption, and Clu watched as the game’s surface electrified. “Finally, we can-”
“User Wins.”
The game cube stretched into the sky at a rapid pace, reopening the hole that it had emerged from, though the rest of the sky remained black. The bottom of the cube soon followed, rising up into the sky and through the hole, which closed after the game’s passing with a loud thunderclap. Naturally all eyes were drawn upward with the game’s departure, wondering where it had come from and where it returned. But then the gaze of many began to fall, to where the game had been, and what was left of the sector.
Clu couldn’t help but stare. “It cannot be…”
An enormous square pit was all that remained of the sector, as though everything within its perimeter had been removed. Sheer walls went straight down to the bottom of the Grid, with a blackened floor that was absolutely featureless. Buildings that had been caught along the edge now hanged at the precipice, and some could not stand with half of their foundations missing, the remains derezing and falling into the pit. Everyone was starting at this devastation, shocked that a User would do something like this.
“It’s just… gone,” Clu said. “All of it, just like that.”
Dyson looked down into the pit, disgusted with what he saw. “What would a User gain from this?”
“Enjoyment, like with our games,” Clu answered, though he suspected the User did not know about the damage inflicted on the system. He saw an armada of light helicopters flying toward the pit, and he signaled for one of them to come and pick him up. “Let’s see if anything survived.”
One of the helicopters landed, long enough for Clu and Dyson to board, and then it lifted off again. From there it flew into the square pit, descending at a slow but steady pace, allowing for observation of the walls all the way down. It got dark quickly, even with spotlights on the helicopters, as the pit seemed to swallow up the light. There were piles of rubble at the bottom, much of it from buildings that had collapsed and derezed, and from portions of the walls that fell apart. One by one the helicopters landed and their occupants disembarked, with Clu and Dyson at the center.
Walking through the desolation, Clu observed as much as he could. “It’s like everything has simply been… nullified.”
Movement caught Dyson’s eye, and he turned toward it. “Did you see that?”
Clu did, and walked in that direction, until something came out of the rubble. “It appears to be alive.”
It, for lack of a better word, was a shapeless mass of goo, roughly the size of a program’s forearm. It had lines like a living program, which waved back and forth as it moved, blue lines with black in between. It slithered around, making a squeaking noise as it moved, and was pointed in the front and the back. It wasn’t alone, as there were more of these things scattered in the rubble, coming out when their resting places were disturbed. They would come to a stop in front of the soldiers investigating the devastation, their front points raised as though to look back.
Dyson crouched next to one of these things, and he reached out to touch it. “It’s almost cu-OW!”
On contact the goo changed color, becoming bright red and green, and drained energy through Dyson’s fingers. He recoiled in pain and pulled his hand away, momentarily transparent from the energy drain, but quickly returned to normal. The goo reverted to its prior coloration, and coiled around itself, as though rendered docile and content. However, other bits of goo slithered toward Dyson, a few at first but growing in numbers. Their squeaks were becoming shrieks, and they started to converge, as though drawn by the presence of sustenance.
“We should leave,” Clu advised.
There were no objections, and everyone retreated to the light helicopters they had ridden down here. Other soldiers had touched these things, lost a bit of energy, and drawn more of them out of the rubble. Some soldiers prodded the slithering goo with their staffs, and while the electric shocks dissuaded them, they did no damage. But there were too many of those things, so the soldiers complied with Clu’s command and returned to their light helicopters. The vehicles lifted off just before all the little bits of goo became a swarm, which dissolved the ground underneath them with their passing.
“I think we found out what happened to the programs,” Dyson said.
“A fate worse than deresolution,” Clu surmised. As the light helicopter ascended, he surveyed the pit one more time, and the tortured existence of those things down there. “Losing the User’s game renders the sector null and void, and everyone inside is reduced to these… nulls.”
“What are we going to do?” Dyson asked. “I doubt the User will be content with just one game.”
“No, it won’t,” Clu agreed. Soon enough the light helicopter was out of the pit, and heading back toward the Citadel. “Set up evacuation plans for every sector in every city. When the next game comes, we need to be ready for it.”
Centicycles passed, and the User played more Games.
They were scattered across the entirety of the Grid, from the core cities to the far-flung colonies, every place with dense populations of programs was afflicted by these games. Despite the best efforts of Clu’s regime, many programs were caught within the games, and subsequently nullified every time the User won. And the User always won, no matter who or what Clu decided to leave in the path of the games. The most frustrating part was that Clu had no way of knowing what those programs were doing wrong, since no one lived to speak of what was inside the game cubes.
Tensions were running high in all the cities, every program wondering if they would be next to be nullified. Clu was using every tactic at his disposal to distract the public from their problems, his favorite being the subjugation of dissenters into the traditional games of the Grid. But those public spectacles would only go so far in placating the public, especially whenever a game cube would drop during a Grid Game. Eventually Clu resorted to entertaining the masses personally, taking part in the diversions to draw attention away from the game cubes.
This millicycle’s entertainment was a light cycle race, and Clu held the baton for the latest model in his hands. “Alright, let’s see who can keep up.”
He ran forward, compiling the light cycle compiled around him, and took off with brisk acceleration. The dozen programs behind him did the same, all of them driving down a circular racetrack. Tens of thousands of programs watched from the stands, able to identify Clu’s light cycle by its yellow coloring, while all the other light cycles were orange. The racetrack had a variety of obstacles, such as ramps to higher and lower levels, loop-de-loops, and curved paths, allowing all kinds of tricks and stunts for light cycle drivers to perform.
Clu’s light cycle was faster than the standard model, and it leapt off the track with every upward ramp he used. The other drivers tried to keep pace, and made mistakes doing so, leading to crashes into the walls and each other. On a particularly steep ramp, Clu launched his light cycle high above the track, getting higher than the walls around the racetrack. He got a brief look at the city, but his eye was drawn to the gaping holes where game cubes had landed. He could also see the reconstruction efforts, but they were unable to keep up with the game cubes, and the lingering holes seemed to mock him.
“Warning: Incoming Game.”
Clu looked up at the suddenly purple sky, and spotted the hole forming above the test track. “You just have to ruin my millicycle…”
The game descended from the sky, and everyone in its path rushed for the sides as fast as they could. Clu’s light cycle landed on the racetrack with a hard thud, and he pushed the engine past the redline. The spectators were running for their lives, tripping and stumbling over one another, with unfortunate programs being trampled into deresolution. Clu got out from under the descending game cube with time to spare, but the other racers were not so fortunate. A third of the test track was absorbed by the game, along with many of the buildings along the other side.
Clu turned around and drove back toward the game cube, coming to a stop where the track met the giant purple wall. He decompiled his light cycle and walked a few more steps, then slammed a fist into the wall, for all the good it would do him. He turned away and looked at what was left of the racetrack, noting that the spectators continued to evacuate, since the show was over prematurely. Security personnel rushed in to secure the area, with some of them ready to assist Clu if he asked for it, though he didn’t need it.
Then Clu noticed the exact point of intersection between the game and the racetrack, aware of the power generator hidden in the track’s wall, now bifurcated by the game. “Oh no…”
An explosion destroyed that piece of the wall, and Clu was flung away by the shockwave. He fell onto his back, and a sudden bright light blinded him, until his eyes adjusted. Clu quickly got back on his feet, saw the demolished portion of wall, and a bright sphere of light was in its place. Floating in place, with a dense core and fluctuating outer shell, this sphere flashed brighter in random intervals. Naturally, a crowd formed to investigate this strange new phenomenon, though no one dared to get closer to it than Clu.
Clu immediately opened a VidWindow. “Dyson. Get a research team down here immediately.”
Through the VidWindow, Dyson could see the flickering sphere. “They are on their way.”
In the meantime, Clu observed the flickering sphere from what he assumed was a safe distance, since it did not appear to be stable. It would grow and shrink at random intervals, coinciding with the random flashes of light. Nearby programs were recording it, which Clu allowed, since he could appropriate the footage later if needed. Soon enough light helicopters arrived to drop off a research team, along with a security detail to establish a perimeter around the sphere. The security programs only need to make a half-circle, since the wall of the game provided an impassible barrier.
One researcher prodded the flickering sphere with a scanner, which prompted it to flash brightly, and the researcher was instantly derezed.
Clu looked at the remains, glad that it wasn’t him. “We need a containment unit.”
However, it was too late for that, as the flickering sphere was pulsing brighter and becoming more erratic. Another researcher was derezed by a flare of energy, while the rest were backing away from the clear and present danger. They had only barely reached a safe distance before the entire sphere exploded, and all the power within it was unleashed. More researchers were derezed by the blast, a crater was created, and survivors were thrown back. Yet the game cube next to the crater remained unscathed, as it was impervious to everything.
Once the survivors had all recovered, Clu approached the crater, and then turned toward one of the few researchers still alive. “Have you formed any theories on what we just witnessed?”
The researcher’s gaze shifted from the crater to the immediate surroundings and then to the game cube. “There was a power generator here, and half of it was absorbed by the game. The remaining portion may have been unstable, and it created the anomaly.”
“It was like the very code of the Grid had been torn asunder,” Clu described. He looked up at the game cube looming over him. “If these tears are caused by the game’s presence, the damage can spread beyond the walls.”
It was something for Clu to think about as he left the area, using a light jet to travel across the city. Once word got out about the tear, or others that might form elsewhere, it would add to his problems with keeping the populace under control. Clu ascended above the nearest rooftops as he circled the intact portion of the racetrack, observing the game cube that had ruined his fun. It was only a matter of time before the User won and the sector was nullified, though how long that would take varied from one game to the next.
“Game Over.”
Clu turned the light jet for another pass. “Go on, rub it in.”
“User Wins.”
He could only watch as the game ascended back into the sky, leaving a square pit of devastation behind. A third of the test track had been nullified, along with many of the buildings adjacent to it. As usual, half-demolished buildings at the edge of the pit collapsed, their derezed remains falling to join the newly-created nulls at the bottom. A loud thunderclap concluded the game’s departure, heard throughout the city and the surrounding lands, another reminder of Clu’s failure to protect the programs of the Grid.
This could not go on, of that Clu was absolutely certain.
Several centicycles later, and with more lost games, Clu was becoming truly desperate for a solution.
As such, Clu was contemplating a dangerous option, standing outside the simulated version of Flynn’s Arcade. This was where Flynn would enter the system, and presumably any other User that wanted to visit the Grid. It was also Flynn’s point of contact for the User world, where he could send messages to other Users during his visits, through something called a phone line. Clu had long considered using that function to lure another User onto the Grid, and thus open the door for him to enter the User world. It was not without risk, a User could derez him before entering the Grid, if it knew what he was planning.
“Warning: Incoming Game.”
As the sky turned purple, Clu looked for the descending game, but didn’t find it. He opened a VidWindow, and the program on the screen was surprised. “Where is this game going to land?”
The program at the Citadel was checking for the game’s location. “Argon City. It appears to be the first game to land there.”
“Leave them be,” Clu ordered. The occupation of Argon had been postponed indefinitely in light of the game cube threat, and losing some unperfected programs was not something to waste time preventing. “They can be dealt with later.”
Clu walked into the simulated arcade, and passed through the rows of machines that filled the main room. At the back was the entrance to the basement, which in the User world it contained the interface for the Grid, and on this side it was where Flynn would appear upon crossing over. Clu sat down in a chair that faced the computer terminal, which had been dormant ever since he took over the Grid. He booted up the machine, which immediately brought up a system log, and Clu closed that window to move onto what he really wanted.
The function to send a page to a User’s phone number was easy enough to access, but Clu hesitated to activate it. With a game in-progress, the User running it would be paying close attention to what the system was doing, and may investigate if something happened without User input. Clu resigned himself to waiting until the game was over, and spent the time calculating the odds of success for every valid phone number he could try to page. The best odds lay with paging the User known as Alan-One, a close friend of Flynn’s that would surely investigate any lead to find him.
“Game Over.”
“Finally,” Clu muttered. He readied the console to send the page to Alan-One, but just before he pressed enter, he realized something and stopped. “Where’s the rest of it?”
The system voice was silent, when it had always declared the User’s victory before. At first Clu wondered if there was a delay with this game, or if his sense of time was malfunctioning. But the longer he waited the more he realized it wasn’t coming, and that he wasn’t imagining the omission. He wasn’t the only one wondering why the declaration of victory was missing, Clu was certain everyone was speculating about this. Rumors were sure to spread across the Grid, as the implication of the omission was clear.
The User lost.
Clu didn’t know how that had been accomplished, but the fact that it had been done meant that someone had figured out how to win. It was a feat that had to be replicated, in order to prevent further damage to the grid, and so it was his first priority. He also had to do it as quickly as possible, to make it look like he had been the one to figure it out first. Anything else would undermine his authority, which had to remain absolute. Clu aborted his plan at the very last step, as the last resort could wait while the solution to the games could not.
Instead Clu opened a VidWindow to contact someone. “Dyson. You noticed what was different this time, right?”
“Yes, the notification of the User’s victory was missing,” Dyson said. “My informants were watching the game and they have confirmed that the city was spared the destruction.”
“We need to find out how they did it,” Clu said. He opened another VidWindow, contacting a program of high rank but still expendable. “General Tesler, the occupation of Argon is back on. Secure the city, find out who won that game and how they did it. Until then, no unnecessary deresolutions.”
The long-faced general was initially eager, though the condition for restraint was clearly a disappointment for General Tesler. “As you command. The winner will be found.”
Clu closed that VidWindow and turned back to the one with Dyson. “Once we understand how these games work, it will provide valuable insight into this new User.”
“Do you think it is related to Flynn?” Dyson asked.
“I am not willing to make such assumptions yet,” Clu said. From what he knew about the system’s physical location in the User world, it was very possible that a random User had found it by accident. “We simply do not have enough information.”
Dyson nodded. “I will keep an open mind.”
The VidWindow closed, and Clu gave the terminal one last look before turning it off and turning away. “Alright, User. I’ll play your game for now.”