So I hit a roadblock in my Mega Man Zero story that I could not get by. The heroes figured out the villain's motives way too fast, and I didn't like that villain, anyway, 'cause he turned the story in a direction that I didn't like. So I won't finish it as is. Instead, I'm taking this opportunity to go back to the very beginning, back to when I first started writing about Eclipse. I've rewritten the prologue and first chapter before, but I've done it again now. And in addition to that, I'm rewriting the entire story. After Dark before Dawn I'll continue through Mystery of Zodiac and Blood Red Moon and then I'll write a band-new story to wrap it all up. It'll probably take me four or five years to do it all. Not even kidding. Anyway, I've posted this on Fanfiction.net, but no one has replied. So feel free to give your feedback here. ^_^


Excerpt from the Research Journal of Sycorax Terryl, Disc 4 (Encrypted)

Some would agree that giving robots free will is suicide. And in a way, they may be right. Nevertheless, the reploids exist and thrive. The reploids are robots that are intended to mimic humans in every feasible way, which inevitably means that they are capable of free thought, unbound by concepts such as prime programming. Some have chosen to walk the straight and narrow, walking hand in hand with their human creators as humanity had hoped.

Inevitably, however, there were those that rebelled and tried to destroy humans. The cause of these malicious intentions even now remains a mystery, as no single catalyst can be pinpointed. While rumors of the remotely transferred "Sigma Virus" explained why so many reploids turned against their creators, it did not, upon investigation, hold true for all haters of the human race.

Whatever drove them to do what they did, such reploids were labeled "mavericks" and were targeted for termination by extremist reploid warriors calling themselves "Maverick Hunters."

This, of course, rapidly and invariably escalated into a full-scale war between humanity and those who sought to destroy it. The Maverick Wars, as these battles are collectively called, have lasted nearly a century. Now only reploid veterans from pre-war times remember what peace was truly like. The Maverick Hunters themselves were nearly destroyed by the efforts of mavericks, forced to form smaller bands of vigilante justice scattered across the world, some of them retaining the integrity of their original mission, others forced to become freelance mercenaries just to survive.

The year is 2236. Two years ago, one such group, known as the Blade Hunters, joined Area X Governor Giovanni Harken, one of the more outspoken voices of peace in these troubled times, in order to watch over the metropolitan city of Area X and keep its people safe. It is a peaceful haven in this war-torn land, protected by the combined might of former Maverick Hunters. But its people carry with them war-torn hearts, and nothing is forgotten… Or forgiven. Nevertheless, we press on doing what we can to put the war behind us.

Myself… I am a state robotics researcher for Governor Harken. It's the only way I've been able to use my talents for the good of society. Ever since my son nearly lost his life in that maverick raid three years ago, I've been trying to further my endeavors in robotics, both to save him and to protect our home.

Yes, these are indeed desperate times.

"This is all you've got done?" asked the general, piercing his underling with a disdainful glare.

"Y-Yes, sir," stammered a workman, alarmed by the general's large gun, and the ease with which he carried it.

"Look, lemme show you something," said the general quietly, gripping the workman's shoulder harder than was necessary and pointing at the far wall and the mess of electrical wiring littering the hangar bay floor. "Here's the main hangar control board. And look, there's the wire."

"Y-Yes, General," the workman stuttered, not quite knowing what to expect next.

"But the control board won't help us very much unless it's connected to the network with the wire. No good at all."

"No, General," the workman quickly agreed.

"And we are on a deadline, so if you'd kindly hurry up…"

"Right away, sir."

The general stared at the cowering workman for a brief moment.

"NOW!" The general roared the word, sending the workman scurrying toward the control panel with a terrified, "Y-Yes, sir!"

General Gloaming gave a satisfied smile, silently congratulating himself on a job well done.

Gloaming was an intimidating figure. He was very tall, very muscular, and very short-tempered. His blue and silver battle armor accentuated his broad shoulders and massive frame. A blue waistcoat and a gun almost as long as he was tall were reminiscent of an old Union soldier with a modern bazooka.

A new voice, sardonic and cold, addressed the victorious general. "Honestly, Gloaming. Was that really necessary?"

Black Sun's Third General whirled around to face the voice's owner, and instantly, his eye twitched in a strange mixture of anger and discomfort.
Black Sun's Commander stood before him, calm and collected as ever, twirling his unlit beam saber between his fingers, apparently demanding an explanation.

Gloaming complied with the unsaid order. "Commander Midnight, this is going far too slow! These workers are all incompetent engineers, and when it comes to computers, they can't tell a bit from a byte."

"If I recall correctly," Midnight replied indifferently. "Neither can you." Gloaming's eye twitched again at this insult. Midnight laughed and went on. "Ah, Gloaming. I do appreciate your enthusiasm. But really, taking out your anger on common grunts?"

Gloaming wasn't in the mood to be chastised. "Commander, you know better than anyone that we have to begin soon, before we're discovered up here! All it takes is one more slip up, and we're history. One more! Is that really a risk we can afford? All for the completion of this space gun? We don't need this thing to run at full capacity yet. I say we begin the operation now."

Midnight nodded calmly, and put his saber in a pouch beneath his cape. "I understand your concerns, General. And frankly, I agree. This is a delicate situation. We're weak, vulnerable, and next to powerless now. If the military found us now, they could completely destroy us and nip our plan in the bud."

"Then why in blazes are we wasting our time floating around up here?" the general growled through gritted teeth.

"We've had a few setbacks," said Midnight, starting down the staircase to the next docking bay floor. Gloaming turned to follow him. "We're not currently able to begin the operation."

Gloaming's eyes narrowed. "Setbacks?"

"Crepuscule encountered more resistance than expected at the shipyard. We had to send several squadrons to help out."

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," Gloaming scowled. "Crepuscule isn't exactly the man of choice to send on an infiltration and theft mission."

"Case in point," Midnight agreed. "A slight miscalculation on my part. However, I'm confident Nightshade will have no problems securing our supplies from the freighter junction."

"Makes sense," Gloaming muttered. "So what other problems have we run into?"

Midnight looked back at Gloaming as he reached the bottom of the staircase. "Pardon?"

"You said setbacks. Plural. You named Crepuscule's near failure at the shipyard. What else?"

Midnight shrugged. "I suppose you could say it's taking longer than anticipated to complete this space station."

"That's what I said before," Gloaming growled. "It's just supposed to be our hideout, right?"

"Well, really more than that," said Midnight, turning to face him fully.

"What do you mean?"

"This space station is equipped with a full cloaking shield that renders it invisible to the naked eye and absorbs all radar and sonar signals. It is a fully functional hideout and base of operations and can be utilized as such immediately. But to begin the operation, dear Gloaming, we require the full power of the station. Until then, we're safe as long as we are careful."

Gloaming sighed. "Fine. I sure hope you know what you're doing, Commander. 'Cause all our necks are on the line here."

"I know, Gloaming," said Midnight, acknowledging his subordinate with a slight nod. "I know."