'Nother one-shot. Eh, I tried to be kinda angsty, but hey. I never said I was good at it.

Disclaimer: Don't own Mega Man.

…

…Who am I?

He was an abomination, a monster, a plague upon all that was good and holy in their eyes.

…Who am I?

But…

…What am I?

But then again, he never really cared.

VENI - I Came

It was a few years after his creation that he found out he was an accident. He had never quite forgiven the doctor for that.

For making him weak.

He was a mishap, a mistake, a flaw in the doctor's plans for conquest, and he hated him for it.

Hate was such a strong word.

But it was true. For the longest time, practically since his birth, if one could call it that, it was all he could feel. He hated the man for making him the way he was.

He was a failure.

Because he wasn't the strongest, wasn't the best.

Couldn't win.

So he clung to his hate, the first emotion he ever felt, the most familiar emotion he ever felt. Because it would hurt too much to let go.

Couldn't let go.

He was such a child, in every aspect of the word, still too young to understand, yet not young enough to ignore it.

And middle ground never really suited him.

And maybe hate was too strong of an emotion for him to hold onto, because as time past he found his feelings towards Wily fade back into the cresses of his mind.

Faded? No - it had only been replaced.

The first time they had met, it had been under the pretense of camaraderie, and maybe it would have been best if it had stayed that way. For both of them. For all of them.

The third time they were enemies.

Mega Man. Just his name alone could send Bass into such blind rage, it scared even Wily. Even Treble. And, though he didn't admit it, would never admit it, even himself.

Mega Man.

VIDI - I saw

Because he had held so much anger in for so long, it was hard to let go. He tried, he really did.

But he couldn't.

His hatred for Wily, for Mega Man, it had poisoned his mind, making him see wickedness where it didn't exist.

And where it did.

He saw people. That is to say he say machines and he saw humans. He saw negligence, he saw pain, he saw suffering.

He saw himself in their eyes.

And he hated it. Hated it, because it scared him. So he lashed out against the word, against Wily, against Mega Man, against every one.

If only to make the pain go away.

Because he wanted to be better. He wanted to be good. It was just too damned hard. But he could try.

If only for her…

He was created to be evil, but she had believed in him. Believed in him when no one else would, when no one else should.

He would try.

VICI - I conquered

Thunder and lighting crackled overhead as Bass stood there, the only visible figure throughout the horizon. It was fitting, he thought, to be killed by something he had no control over, that man had no control over.

He was ready to die.

It was so easy, almost too easy. Just to give up.

Would anyone miss him?

Treble would. He felt guilty about it, leaving his faithful companion, but it was for the best. Mega Man would. The blue bomber had always thought of them as friends, even after everything that had happened.

…Would she miss him?

The thought filled him with emotions he never felt before, and he found himself doubting his decision. But it was too late for that.

He was always too late, wasn't he?

He didn't want to die. He really didn't.

But he knew he had to.

Because he was evil. Because he was wrong. Because he hated and suffered and hurt and because he felt things that robots shouldn't feel.

Because he was so human.

He saw in himself what he saw in those people, what he saw in their deep, empty eyes, and he hated it. He hated it and he was afraid of it.

And he screamed.

He screamed and yelled with the intensity and passion and fervor that he had never experienced before. And he accepted it, because he wasn't afraid anymore.

And what was hate, after all, but fear?

He didn't stop. His throat burned and his head felt as though it were to tear in two, but he didn't stop.

He dared the world to stop him.

So as the elements roared above and around him, and Bass stood there roaring his own livid war cries, and as his voice seemed almost to drown out the booming thunder, he smiled.

For the first time in his life, he truly smiled.

Because for once he believed he was doing something right, and it felt good.

Was he going to die?

The lightning would hit him, travel through his mechanical body, the electrical charges would short-circuit his brain, and then he would die.

He was ready.

He'd like to think that the world would be a better place. That he was doing everybody a favor.

He thought of her, and then he closed his eyes.

His eyes felt wet, and he was dimly aware that he was crying. But it was too late.

'Late again, Bass?' He could hear her voice now too.

A single blot of lightning whizzed by. He could practically hear the charge and discharge of its energy, as if to tell him it would be okay, that everything would be all right, and that he would wake up, and he would be just fine, and the world would keep spinning, and he would keep living.

He was an abomination, a monster, a plague upon all that was good and holy in their eyes.

What am I?

But then again, weren't they all monsters?

Who am I?

He opened his red eyes, and he laughed.

My name is Bass.

End.