((I saw a writing prompt for either "getting dressed to kill" or "dressing to kill" and I thought it would make for a good prompt in the Tron world.))

Ark coldly brushed off the Sirens' offer to help her change into her combat suit for the Games. In the past, her rejections had been kinder, but she wasn't feeling very polite right now.

She had known that her luck wouldn't hold, with her history and being in the resistance, but it still stung.

After Clu took over, she had been pretty high up on his hit list. After all, a System Monitor that had been friendly with the ISOs didn't exactly match up to the dictator's ideas of a perfect system.

She had survived for a while, between her skills and the help of her friends, she had fought back until she slipped up and got captured.

Thank goodness nobody else had gotten captured with her. That was some, but very little comfort.

Unlike some of the other Programs that had been grabbed, she had been taken straight to the top. Clu spent a short while deliberating her fate. It was tempting to brainwash and corrupt her, to force her to turn against everything she had stood for.

But, there was another option that would be much more interesting.

Clu decided to send her to the Games. He had faith that she'd fight her way to the end, and there, well, an old friend would be waiting for her.

He had sent her off with a flick of his wrist as the guards took her to the Arena.

Now, she's here getting ready to fight for her life.

Ark's done this before, back before things got bad. Back then, the Games were for fun. She had a decent record, she never could beat Tron, but then again, nobody could.

Switching out her clothes was an easy process, but this time, it felt tougher. She was removing her personal circuits, her identity, in exchange for the same armor that everyone sentenced to the Games did.

Her armor fit her well, it was at once comforting and terrifying. She was used to wearing it, but, she knew that once it was completely on, that she'd likely never take it off again.

As she finished pulling it on, the standard blue circuits snapped on and hummed to life.

She glanced over at her personal clothes one last time, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm ready."

The Sirens escorted her to her position, she had a fleeting thought of trying to escape. But, if she could, where would she go?

But, this was her fate, and she was going to face it head on.

Ark stood in the middle of her elevator, waiting patiently and trying to keep her composure. If she wavered, if she faltered, that would only amuse Clu even more, and she wasn't about to let that happen.

She stared blankly out of the glass as it lifted her to her fate.

Ark didn't remember much of the game. She didn't want to think about the fact that she was fighting other Programs, ones she had been programmed to protect, maybe even ones that she knew.

One after one, she struck her opponents down, gaining victory after victory.

Breathing heavily, she stood alone in the final round.

From the comfort of his seat, Clu clapped slowly, "Congratulations, you made it. I knew you would. Now there's just one opponent left. Win this, and maybe you'll earn your freedom." He gestured to a Program by his side, "Bring in Rinzler."

Ark responded only with a glare. She'd made it this far, she was starting to wear down, but she could keep going. There wasn't many Programs who had been able to beat her in the past, and, most of them were already derezzed by now. She doubted that he'd give her her freedom, of course, but she was going to fight for it with everything she had.

Her confidence faded though, once her opponent stalked into view.

They were a different color, but she'd know those distinctive T-shaped circuits anywhere.

Her opponent was Tron.

Fighting back panic, she readied herself, trying to remember every time that had fought in the Arena and fought side by side. She knew Tron's moves, and he knew hers in turn, he was the best.

Her confidence ebbed even more when she saw him activate a second disc. She'd never seen that before, not from anyone. Whatever she knew about his fighting style wouldn't hold up much against this change.

When they were signaled to begin, Ark cautiously held back, trying to get as much information about her opponent as she could.

Rinzler had no hesitation, though, with almost a blinding speed, he charged forward, immediately putting her on the defensive.

It was hard to keep up with double the weapons, but she managed. For a little while, at least.

Focused only on survival, it was easy to forget that she was fighting against Tron. Even so, with blocking two discs, she wasn't able to get a blow in.

Ark made another mistake that day, one that would prove to be her last. Now, her disc had slid across the floor, and between her and it stood Rinzler.

Exhausted and with no room to maneuver, all she could do was watch as he prowled towards her.

When he pulled back his arm to strike the final blow, Ark, out of options, did the only thing she could think of and whispered his name, "Tron..."

Rinzler hesitated for an instant.

Angered at the pause, Clu yelled to his warrior, "Finish her!"

Rinzler obeyed.

He struck Ark with a single, decisive blow and she shattered into a million tiny cubes, landing into a scattered pile on the Arena floor.

Rinzler tilted his head, looking down at what had been his opponent.

Clu glared at the nearest guard, "Bring him here now. He needs to be reformatted." He had lost count of the number of times that he had written over Tron's code, but again and again, there had been potential signs of rebellion. That would never do.

He watched as Rinzler was rectified once more. This time, there would be no more resistance.