Non-Canon AU: Ghosts

Beck was dead.

This must be clearly understood, or nothing that happens next will make sense.

It had happened last year - suddenly, and from a source that nobody had expected. The question of how Ivan of the Magpies got a hold of the weaponry he'd carted back to his superiors had been a lingering question in everyone's minds, and it was swiftly and horribly answered when Tremor of the Black Dragon appeared as if from nowhere and levelled half of South Vegas. In the resulting skirmish that followed, the Kobbers had been hideously beaten by the geomancer, whose powers had been slowly approaching those of a deity due to past events, and it seemed as though he could just not be brought down by anything that was thrown at him.

The sudden and awful twist ending came when Beck, spitting sparks and furious beyond measure, had leaped at Tremor just as he had been winding up to smash somebody around the head with a fist of solid granite.

The crunch of a shattering AI Core would forever be ingrained in the minds of the people present.

Tremor had then fled, leaving the others to realize what had happened. Then the panic had set in, and Beck's mangled body had been rushed back to the K.O.B. in what basically amounted to a spare wheelbarrow someone had conveniently found lying about. There was a mix of horrible tension and vague hope as the gadgeteers and scientists studied the remains of what had once been their former comrade and spunky, heroic ally. Surely, they reasoned, he could be restored? What were the Kobbers if they couldn't bring someone back from a fate as horrific as this - they'd come back from worse, hadn't they?

All hope died when Doctor Light turned to everyone assembled and shook his head.

There was nothing to recover. The AI Core had been pulverized, and the Xel system had no means of reconstructing the very thing that told them to form a body to begin with. Even if they could recover anything, there wouldn't be anything that was Beck to put in a new body or restore - the same personality, but none of the memory or experience. Doctor Light did not believe in keeping personality backups, as evidenced by his refusal to restore Rush two years ago, and he hadn't the hand-eye co-ordination anymore to recreate the systems he'd forged the body from.

For all intents and purposes... Beck Light was dead.

Permadead.

The realization settled in like sea-fog; slow, but cold and bitter, and everyone took it badly in one way or another. Jewel Man broke down into hysterical sobbing and had to be comforted by an equally tearful Rock, Crash and Splash Woman. Sarah had sobbed quietly, and the rest of her week had been spent in mournful silence, not even touching her pancakes at breakfast. Kevin and Jin had promised to pay tribute to him in a special episode, touched by how he had gone down fighting. And even David, who didn't give a shit about much else, poured himself a drink in memory of the robot - although he immediately forgot why after he'd downed it.

But none took it harder than Ash. Beck had been practically like a second child to him, and the moment he'd heard about what was essentially the murder of a close ally, something dark and shocking erupted from within the Godslayer. A kind of cold, silent rage enveloped him, and he'd turned and left the bar without so much as saying a word. The only news anyone had of him was at the end of that week, when news reports came of an entire army descending upon the south quadrant of Vegas where the Black Dragon made their lair.

There wasn't enough left of Tremor to fill a tuna can.

Ash had been banished to the couch for a month. Even Sam had to admit that it had been rather extreme.

They held a funeral on the next day. It had been so long since they had held a funeral, since barely anyone died amongst the Kobbers like this, that it felt strange and dark. Rock spoke of how proud he was to have a son like Beck, and that he would not wish for any other, not even as a replacement. Ash had quietly spoken of the boy's enthusiasm, willingness to learn and unyielding sense of justice. Melody - the doll - had begun to say something, then broken down and had to be escorted to a back room. Then the single pen drive that contained what remained of Beck's programming was lowered into the dusty earth of Nevada, as all present recited the traditional rites mechanically and dully.

It was going to be a long year. And one of their own wouldn't be around to help.