Invidia
Supposedly, 'perfect copy' did not equate to actually being the person one was the copy of. Copy X learned that quicker than he did the daily routine of ruling Neo Arcadia—even if all the important people thought he was really X, the fact that one little girl knew the truth, that he knew the truth, was enough to drive him nearly Maverick.
Even his own name was an insult, yet it was the one he was ultimately programmed with. Alone in his borrowed chambers, because really it was X's, not his, Copy X paced in front of the mirror. Each time he looked at it, he wanted to rip something apart. He looked just like X, sounded just like X, acted, thought… he was X! And yet…
Copy X stared at himself, taking in the image that was both his and not. He was the perfect copy, right down to X's own imperfections. He was not his own self, not an individual. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered him so much if he just didn't know.
Yet X, the Legendary Reploid, the Hero, had valiantly thrown his chance at life away and sealed himself up. Copy X was made to take on his responsibilities, his life, like the scapegoat he was meant to be. Any mistakes X possibly made that could come to fruition, Copy X would be blamed. And should that brat let slip he wasn't the real X? Would the people be sympathetic, would they understand?
Of course not! Copy X's eyes narrowed at his reflection. No, if the people knew, they'd blame the copy. Forever exalt the original, forget the fact that even if he was a copy, he was a Reploid, and he had his own mind, his own feelings!
Copy X punched the mirror, scowling when it didn't shatter but merely cracked. Original X, the Hero, the Great One, everyone just loved original X. That love wasn't transferred to Copy X, and he knew it. Every look of reverence, every glance of awe, wasn't for him… it was for the one he was a fake pass-off of!
Copy X glared at the desk nearby, at the framed picture X had lovingly kept. Copy X recognized his original self easily enough, although the red Reploid X was posing with was one Copy X never seen before, other than rifling through the borrowed memory files. Memories he never, personally, had.
Was nothing in the world his? Copy X threw his hands into the air; only his frustration and desire to be his own person, most likely. The armor wasn't even his… it was all X's! Nothing was his, nothing defined his existence other than reminders of the fact he wasn't real.
"I'm supposed to be you," Copy X sneered at the picture of X and his long lost Zero, his hands balling into fists. "I'm supposed to pick up your life and make it mine… did you ever bother to ask if I wanted that? I have my own ideas, but that never crossed your mind, did it? What use is there to being you? It obviously isn't working!"
Copy X glared at the picture, wanting to pick it up and slam it into the wall. "I don't want to be like you."
He left the picture alone, though. Instead, he turned to the door with his mind steeled in the thought that he would be someone. He wouldn't just be Copy X—he would be his own person, his own self. First things first, however, was to at least look somewhat different. Different eye color, different armor, something.
"I'll do better than you ever did," Copy X said over his shoulder at that picture, as if Original X really could hear him. "I'll be a better person, my own person, and nothing of you will exist anymore! You can be the fake, not me!"
Copy X slammed the door shut, trapping his words in the still air of the room.
My achievements seem so humble
While you're making wine from water.
While my hands work the cold soil
All you touch turns into gold.
And I don't want to be like you…
I don't want to be like you!
It seems like you outrun me every time…
I wanted to be you…
Why can't I erase you from my mind?
All the heroes in the gutter
Finally get their ever after…
As they lay their final glance
Upon your ever shining armor…
And I don't want to be like you…
I don't want to be like you!
It seems like you outrun me every time…
I wanted to be you…
Why can't I erase you from my mind?
Looking from a distance,
the difference seems so small…
Has the grass been greener
on the other side at all?