Home - A Tron Legacy Fanfiction

Jarvis reached out tentatively, the code in his hand was fighting him, but he overrode it and pushed his reluctant digits further forward. His finger tips were shaking when they touched the rough, uneven surface again, and a feeling swept through him.

A feeling.

The concept itself was laughable. The reality of it made his code shift unnervingly. Programs don't feel. And they don't think. So why was he staring at the faded green cover of the book, feeling like he was home, and thinking he would like to stay here forever?

He trailed a single, shacking finger down the spine, up it again, then along the top. There was nothing remarkable about this creation of Kevin Flynn's, just a series of junk code with no purpose. But the simple object filled him with the warmth of possibility.
His eyes moved along the long shelf, taking in the muted colours and gold script of the dozens of other books.

Glorious.

Around the room were other creations, all junk code with no purpose, but all unique. Colourful constructions of shapes, both simple and intricate. A large – thing – hung from the ceiling, fragile and utterly, utterly pointless. A complex contraption sat on a rough dais by the wall, guarded by two pillars of clear fragility. It appeared to be a chronometer but was extremely inefficient.

'And beautiful.' his source code informed him. Jarvis trembled.
The warm sensation was growing inside of him, sharp and harsh. He gasped despite not needing air to exist. The reaction was involuntary and terrified him. He fell to his knees, unable to breathe and it made the pressure in his head intensify. He needed something. He needed –

His hand slipped and a book fell to the illuminated floor. Its spine was maroon and the cover a faded sky blue. On the front was an illustration of another fantastical User contraption. In a box of gold were the words:


Around The World In Eighty Days
by Jules Verne   


An unexplainable urge overtook him and Jarvis scrambled to latch onto the book. He grabbed it, holding it tightly in his hands and clutching it to his chest as he curled his body around it. It was solid and cool through his gloves, grounding him just as much as the floor under his prone form. He lay on his side until long after the lights went out, clutching the book for an age, terribly aware of his slow and steady breathing.

Somewhere else in the room a silent whisper signaled that someone was coming up on the elevator into the home of the Creator. Jarvis couldn't bring himself to care. So long as he could lay here with this book he knew everything would be alright.

Lights came on, bathing the living space in a cool white glow. Jarvis still didn't move, even when the soft sound of footsteps approached him. A pair of black boots stopped in front of his eyes and waited silently.

Slowly he looked up, and through his grey visor saw the Iso gazing down at him. Her eyes were dark pools, perfectly matching her dark hair and contrasting radiantly with her alabaster skin. But her look didn't hold malice, only an infinite wisdom and patience.

Carefully she lowered herself to her knees, resting her hands on her legs as they watched each other. Jarvis would have been concerned for his existence before, she would have de-rezzed him without hesitation. But now things were different.

Now they were different.

She reaches out, her hand resting on his shoulder soothingly.

"Everything's going to be alright." She promises in a low voice.