Tom: What have I done?
Though I did not pull the trigger, I built the gun that 
he holds in in his hand.
Last night I dreamed I climbed to the top of a mountain 
of metal
and for miles I could see the destruction of man.
I will not be the father of death.

Darling Emily, everything that I have done, I have done 
for you,
but it's turned out all wrong.
Can I take it back? Can I turn off this machine
before it destroys everything that I've loved?

I will find a way to make this right!
I will find a way, Emily.
I will not be the father of death!

[Emily Stanton climbed the stairs to her beloved's 
apartment, a folded letter in her hand. Tom had been so 
busy with his work these last few months, they'd barely 
seen one another. This, instead, was how they'd 
communicated. The door at the top of the stairs was 
cracked open. She called out to Tom as she entered the 
darkened room. A man was bent over the desk rummaging 
through the drawers frantically. It was Albert Wily. He 
turned, startled, and looked at Emily; the hint of a 
smile crossed his face. He motioned, not at Emily, but 
at the figure standing in the shadows behind her. The 
machine shut the door obediently.]

Emily: What are you doing here? (Albert: Let me take 
you away.)
I'm not going anywhere. (He will be nothing when this 
runs its course.)
He will be everything that a man
is supposed to be.

If the shadow blocks out the sun... there will be 
light!
If it stays 'till the sun is set... there will be 
light!
If the sun never shows its face again... there will be 
light!
No matter how dark the city gets... there will be...

[Albert Wily's eyes grew cold as Emily's rejection of 
him became clear. He turned to the machine standing at 
the door and quickly slid his finger across his own 
throat. The robot moved silently towards Emily as Wily 
slid through the window, onto the fire escape, and into 
the streets below. Emily ran to the window, following 
his escape, but the machine was too quick. Its cold 
hands caught the soft flesh of her arm. She opened her 
mouth to scream but the warm tearing of a cold blade 
across her neck aborted the sound.

apartment, he sensed something was wrong. He opened the 
door, crossed through, and locked it behind him. As his 
eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, the first 
thing he made out was a red light pulsing slowly on the 
fire escape. A moment passed as Light tried to 
reconcile the image of a machine he'd just left at his 
workshop, with the figure now towering outside his 
window. His gaze drifted from the shaded helmet of the 
machine to its hand and to the knife it gripped, 
dripping deep crimson droplets onto the toe of its 
black boots. The machine tossed the knife in through 
the window, and leapt to the ground below. Light's eyes 
followed the arc of the blade to the floor, to Emily.

Sirens approached in the distance.

Thomas held his darling Emily in his arms, pulling her 
close to his chest. Shaking silently.

Footsteps rang out from the stairwell. A fist rapped 
violently against the door. Thomas didn't notice. He 
slowly brushed the hair from Emily's face and kissed 
her forehead. A single tear falling from his own eyes 
to hers. In her hand, a folded letter with his name 
scrawled carelessly on the front.

The sound of the door splintering finally shook Light 
from his mournful reverie. He pocketed the note and 
lowered his love to the ground as he inched slowly to 
the edge of the open window.

His actions were met with the hollow click of rounds 
being loaded into chambers. He began howling 
incoherently to the policemen about renegade robots and 
red lights in blast shields. The only responses he 
received were nervous faces and fingers inching toward 
triggers. In grief and desperation, Light turned and 
threw himself from the window.

Shots shattered the hush of the sleeping city.

Light's tumbling body flattened the roof of a car 
parked below. The air was thrust from his lungs. His 
right arm was shattered, but he was alive. He rolled 
from the car onto the shards of glass lying on the 
street below, shredding his hands and knees. Gasping 
for air and retching violently on the pavement, for the 
first time in his life not thinking about the future, 
Light scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the 
darkness.]