Through My Eyes: Weary Warrior

BY : Ratha
Category: +M through R > Mega Man
Dragon prints: 1743
Disclaimer: I do not own MegaMan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Megaman or any of its characters.


Through My Eyes
Mega Man X: Weary Warrior


I never wanted to be a warrior.

I never wanted to be the killer of hundreds of my kin, no matter what the reason is.

I'm hailed as a hero, but that doesn't hide the fact that all I really am is a murderer. My hands are stained with the blood of thousands of Reploids, both innocent and guilty, all accused of being Mavericks.

When will it all end? When will all the fighting stop?

When can I stop murdering my children?

Yes, I consider all other Reploids my children. I am the first, after all. All other Reploids were based off of my own design.

I don't understand why the real Mavericks insist on doing what they do, trying to eliminate the humans. I understand the principle of their claims. Reploids are sentient beings with feelings, emotions, and self-thought. We deserve to be given the same rights as humans, but we shouldn't try to kill ALL humans just because a few are pig-headed. Surely there's a way for Reploids and humans to live together in peace.

Surely there's a way to stop all this fighting so no one else will die, human or Reploid.

Zero tells me that I'm being childish, getting upset over every Reploid that I kill, but he doesn't understand. He never will, not completely. I've seen him in battle, the way he almost goes insane with battle-lust. He loves to fight, unlike me. He's a born warrior. I sometimes joke that he's not happy unless he's fighting; he just laughs and shoots another rubberband at me. He's my best friend, and if it weren't for him, I would've given up long ago.

I never wanted to be a warrior. I'm tired of all the blood, the pointless deaths, the broken bodies of innocent children caught in the crossfire.

I'm tired of seeing more white crosses added to the cemetery four miles from Maverick Hunter Headquarters; I know each and every name there, and not all of them are human Maverick Hunters. But every single one was a true hero.

I never wanted to be a warrior.

So why am I fighting?

I am fighting for the children in that cemetery, the elementary students that had died trying to save their school, abandoned by the teachers they looked up to, who took up arms with what they could and tried to make a difference in the world... and succeeded.

Not only did our eyes open fully but now the world has seen what true heroism is. For these children were heroes.

I fight in their memory.

Because of them, I have the courage to do what I have to do.


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