Well, I thought I'd try my hand at writing a short fan fiction. (probably not more than four or five chapters) This story takes place just before the beginning of Tron 2.0. for the sake of keeping the topic clear, I'm going to start a review topic. so anyway, here it be:

Chapter 1

I hummed to myself as I worked. The control panel I worked at had a diagram of the firewall I was working at, and a constant readout of Incoming and outgoing traffic. I was bent over the control panel, watching. Always watching. After all, it was my job. I leaned back in my chair, stretching. I looked around the firewall control unit. It was a fair-sized room, circular, with a low ceiling. My desk was off to the side, a standalone control panel with a chair for me to rest in. In front of me in the center of the room, a large hologram showed the massive firewall. The deep blue of the room contrasted the two ICPs that watched over the entrance to the room, and the four data streams to the manual ring configures. My control panel beeped at me. I looked down and saw a program was requesting permission out. I opened an I/O connection with the program. “Jerocon.exe, firewall monitor and control service here. What is your request?” I said. The program replied: “My name is Romie, I have an important data package to deliver.” “Alright,” I said, “I’ll ping your user.” “Alright.” He replied. I pressed a few buttons, pinging Romie’s user. “It’ll be just a moment.” I said. “Say,” Romie said, “You’re yellow?” “Yeah.” I replied. “Great. This probably would have been a lot harder with those upstart reds.” Romie said. I smiled. “Yeah, or one of those prissy blues. It coulda been a microcyle before your request came through!” Romie laughed. Then I got a ping from Romie’s user. Back to business… I got up and walked over to the I/O node on the wall, and pressed the large disc on the face. “Program Romie requesting Internet access.” I said. “Request confirmed. Remember access privileges.” Came the reply. I closed the node, and then walked back to the panel. “You’re a go, Romie. Just be careful out there.” I said. “Thanks. Enjoy your cycle!” Said Romie, then the panel deactivated. Enjoy my cycle… somehow I doubt that I will. I sighed, then leaned back into my chair. I noted an E-mail script heading out of the system. Ah, the life of a ‘net program. Adventuring to other servers, meeting new programs, and always busy. Unlike me… I propped my feet up on the desk. I’ll probably be here until I derezz of old code. Then my console beeped again. I looked, and saw that E-mail script was trying to get back into the system, but the filters kept rejecting him. Odd… But this isn’t my decision. I pinged the user, then waited. The I/O node sprang to life, so I walked over and spoke into it: “Error: E-mail rejected. Possible contaminant detected.” I waited only for a moment before the user replied: “End program. You will be reactivated when the E-mail script is completed.” The I/O node deactivated, and I simply stood there.Time off? Scince when do Users give firewalls time off? Oh well… I’m not complaining. I grabbed my helmet, then walked over to the center hologram and touched the shutdown button. I walked to the entryway and nodded to the ICP as I passed. I programmed the data stream for the local progress bar. yes… a nice drink should do me fine. I stepped into the data stream. Little did I realize just how much damage a little E-mail script could do…

Chapter 3

The momentary rushing feeling swept over me as I ran through the data stream. The moment I reappeared, I realized that I had forgotten to set the destination on the data stream. I suddenly found myself standing at the end of an alleyway, the walls and floor ripped apart by the green, glowing corruption. The oozing slime ripped through everything, walls, floors, data streams… then I suddenly whipped around, only to see a large green crevice running through the data stream. Seeing the effects of the corruption was a horrible. Seeing thing being corrupted was worse. I ran into the street, only to see it was even worse there. Chunks of buildings were breaking off and floating in space, outlined by their green slime. Even the street was breaking apart- jaggedly thrusting into the air in some areas, slowly crushing down into holes in others. Then I heard voices. Three. They were coming from around the bend of the street, and moving quickly towards me. I rushed to the wall opposite the alley I had come in through, and found a window. I leaped into it just as the three twisted programs arrived. They hobbled to the alley, yelling at their maximum voices about the corruption. I peeked over the edge of the window to see what the programs were doing. Two walked out of the alley, seeming as if they had been looking for something, but hadn’t found it. The two programs twisted their heads around violently, then hobbled off down the street. I carefully climbed out of the window and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to go. Of course, the only way to escape would be to find a data stream. Perhaps I can repair the broken one… It was a long shot, but I decided to try it. I walked into the alleyway and knelt by the corrupted data stream port. I poked the port and tried to see if there was any sort of direct programming port or other such item, when I heard an odd noise. I turned around, looking back out of the alleyway. I saw the corrupted part of the ground moving. Moving! then, it bulged upwards, forming a large bulb-like shape. Then the corruption tore, revealing a corrupted program inside. I realized this must be the main way for corrupted programs to get around, or possibly some sort of hibernation. In any case, the program finished it’s birthing from the ground, then looked around and focused in on me. I must have locked up, because I could barely move as the program locked its eyes in on me. The eyes were empty of life, yet full of something else: Evil, malice. As the program drew a ball from his waist, I leaped up and ran straight foreword, knocking the program over in the process. I turned left and kept running down the street. Then a sound. Whispering. I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. “Quickly! Here! Your left!” I turned left and saw a young-looking female program in an alleyway, motioning for me to come towards her. I turned and lept into the alleyway, nearly knocking over the program in the process. As I sat up, I saw that it was not an alleyway at all, but a small crevice formed by the collapsing of the neighboring building. I turned to the other program there with me to see what she looked like. She was like a lot of females, blue as well, but wore no helmet, with her hair short and spiked back; a typical sign of a game program. She had also crying. “Are you allright?” she asked. I nodded. “Good.” She said, then turned back to the street. “My name is Jerocon. Firewall app.” I said. “Meran. Game bot. Pleasure.” She said, obviously trying to sound tough. “Are you… okay?” I asked. She turned back to me. “Would you be okay if you just lost the love of your life to the corruption?” She snapped. “I’m sorry…” I said. She seemed to calm down some before saying anything. “Don’t apologize. There was nothing anyone could have done.” She said. There was a silence, then I asked, “Why aren’t you helping the ICPs stop the corruption?” “I have to help Ma3a. Iwhere to buy abortion pill ordering abortion pills to be shipped to house buy abortion pill onlineabortion pills online http://www.kvicksundscupen.se/template/default.aspx?abortion-questions cytotec abortion

Revive the first threads ...part 6