Disclaimer: No, I do not own Vandread.

Full Summary: AU. NonYaoi. Hibiki/Many. Takes place 2 years after the Second Stage. While on Tarak to recruit men for the "experiment" on the Nirvana, Hibiki is presented with an offer: to help on a secret government-funded mission to "explore the neighboring systems and find signs of non-human life". Why he has been chosen to be given this offer to is unknown to him, but he rashly accepts it, leaving his friends, both on Tarak and on the Nirvana behind, with little in the way of information except that he's been hired for something, and that he'd be back. This sends him on a course that would eventually change almost everything about him, from his appearance, to the way he looks at life. Two years later, he returns, his mission accomplished… all his innocence and ignorance lost, and replaced by a mature mind, more power than he ever had before, and the overpowering will to do anything to survive, should he, once again, face the horrors he encountered on the exploration mission.

Prologue: Thoughts from a Troubled Mind

"Beware, hunter of monsters, lest you become a monster yourself. For as you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss also gazes into you."

- FREDERIC WILHELM NIETZSCHE

Hibiki Tokai's quarters, military transport ship SV-3000…

What makes a man a man? Is it his accomplishments or his thoughts or even the way he lives his life? Or something else… something more?

I know not. There's quite a chance that I never will.

By far, the greatest of my accomplishments in these last two years is that now I can call myself a man, and know that I am saying the truth. I am a child no longer, despite my age, and that can be told simply by a glance. I know it, and the people I've met since the end of the two-year mission that changed my life know it, and don't question it.

To some that may sound like arrogance, but I know myself well enough to know that it isn't. Not after all I've done.

However, even though I know that I am a man, I still don't know just what makes me one, and I truly can't help but wonder…

Suddenly, a yawn coming forth from my lungs interrupts my thoughts. I let it go on, while I stretch on my chair.

Needless to say, I'm rather tired. I have barely slept since three days ago, when I finally boarded this ship, finally headed for the Nirvana.

I simply couldn't bring myself to it. The thoughts of finally going home (for indeed, there was a point in my mission when I finally realized that the pirate ship truly was the closest thing to a home I've ever had since I left my Grandfather- er… Uncle's house, where I grew up) simply wouldn't leave my mind, and made me restless throughout my time in this transport ship, disturbing my sleep. And now, only a few hours before the transport ship finally arrived to Mejerran orbital space, which was the current location of the Nirvana, I could barely even close my eyes, much less go to sleep. In an attempt to calm myself enough to get some rest, I went to my desk and poured myself a glass of vodka from an old bottle, the last of the small stock I found inside a preserving compartment in the ruins of a colonist ship almost two years ago. Now, with alcohol at less than an arm's reach, I took my old pen and started writing on the last pages of my third diary, last of the three little blank books I found on the same colonist ship as the vodka. As I wrote about what had happened since I boarded the transport ship and about how I was finally going home, the realization that I had changed in ways that no one would have ever expected me to hit me. I wanted to go home… but would home accept me? Truly, in many ways, I am my old self. I'm still able to laugh, show affection, all those things. However, even though a fair share of the core of my old personality remains, many things have changed. I am… jaded, now. I've seen so many horrible things… experienced so much pain… and killed, yes, killed so many people who stood in the way of the mission. They hadn't been good people, far from it actually, but still, I killed them. I did something to them that two years ago, at the beginning of the mission, I would have never imagined doing to even my worst enemy. Even those of Earth shed no blood, seeing as their fleets were made of machines.

And then another thought hit me…

'I've done all those things…but there is something more. Something that wasn't there before the mission… it seems to be of little importance when I think of it, but I know that it's not, that it truly does matter…'

I'd say it's easy to guess what came afterwards.

'After all I've done, I've gained a particular quality: I can call myself a man now, and know that it is not a lie.'

And that led to my current train of thought, as I analyzed just what elements of the mission had made me a man… and then went on to analyzing just what elements of my life itself had made me a man.

That wasn't to long ago, and now I sit at my desk, yawn having passed, thinking of what made me a man.

Was it my appearance?

I grab my (until now) almost completely untouched glass of vodka and stare at the liquid. My reflection stares right back at me.

I sigh. I have changed so much… I was sixteen when I left Tarak for the mission, and I'm eighteen now, two years later. However, I don't look like it. In fact, my appearance is that of a man in his mid twenties. My features recall how I looked before the mission, but they look more mature than back then, and I'm much taller now. In conclusion, I look young, but nowhere near as young as I should be.

How is that possible? A question most would be asking themselves by now.

The answer: etherum gas. No, it has nothing to do with ether. It is just a name coined by Taraaku scientists for an especially designed "aging gas" which was supposed to be used as a weapon.

As fate would have it, I and a few others happened to be in the same room as the gas when, due to negligence by a trainee scientist who was later executed, the containers holding the gas burst, and everyone inside the room started to feel its effects as the gas filled the room. To make things worse, the gas seemed to act as a corrosive for metal, completely oxidizing the doors of the room, preventing any escape and making the air vents useless.

When we were finally rescued, I was one of the first to get out, having been there for around forty minutes. There were some who ended up being there for around three to four hours. Most of them survived, but the eldest ones ended up crumbling to dust, their bodies incapable of aging more while still alive, and unable to resist the effects of the gas.

Indeed, I have to be grateful for the fact that I was so young back then (the mission being only on its third month, which was when I turned seventeen), and that the gas was only on an early experimental stage, and was nowhere near as potent as was planned for it to be. Otherwise I wouldn't be here, thinking of these things.

Sighing, I down the vodka in one go and put the empty glass on the desk.

Even though my new appearance certainly makes me look better, I doubt that it is the thing that made me a man.

My power, perhaps?

I look now at my C-10 Canister Rifle, resting against my bedside table, and then at the loaded handgun placed on the table itself, where I have left it after getting out of bed (yes, I sleep with it). I really shouldn't have left it there, so far from myself, but I am quiet capable of defending myself without it.

This leads me to my other weapon.

I shake back my black shirt's sleeve from my right arm and stare at the back of my wrist, a fleeting thought registering just how well it melds with the back of my hand.

Concentrating on activating the mechanism, I flick my wrist…

And a long metal blade rips the thin skin, extending itself fully from the implanted sheath on my arm.

It hurts, and it may seem rather archaic, but it (and its twin on my left arm) saved my life many times during the mission.

Another flick. The blade goes back in. Some sort of white foam comes out of the wound, covering it. It burns me a bit (without causing injury) for a few seconds, and then evaporates. All traces of the wound are gone.

One may wonder how this happened to me, obviously, but the answer would be something unheard of for most of Tarak's population and completely unknown by the Mejerrans.

The Ghost Project.

Around the start of the second year of the mission, everything had gone well. I knew just what the mission was truly about, and everyone on the ship we were in was prepared for what could happen.

At least that was what we thought when we arrived on government orders at a science facility built on one of the fringe worlds of a solar system located at a moderate distance from the Mejer-Tarak system.

There we were welcomed by the scientists in the facility, and after we explained our mission (having been explicitly told by the government official who sent the transmission that told us to go there to do that), and the scientists checked our names and identifications on their database, the lead scientist was glad to explain what they were doing on the facility. I remember what he said word by word.

"This facility was created soon after the defeat of Earth, and its original purpose was to develop new weapons technology for Tarak. Then we learned of them, and what they could do. That was when we were commissioned by the Taraaku government to find a way to enhance our soldiers, not only using external technology, but also using implants and genetic enhancements. In short, to create the perfect warrior. This project was codenamed the "Ghost Project" after one of the implants we designed, which generates an invisibility field around the user. Just a few days ago, we finished the primary technology needed for the Ghost Project, and told the government of our success. However, we need at least one test subject to test the technology on. Because you were the closest ship in this system, and to spare themselves the nuisance of seeking volunteers elsewhere in the military, thus endangering the secrecy of this project, the government sent you and your ship here, gentlemen, to provide us with at least one volunteer. The government told us to warn you that if all of you refuse, you will all be kicked out of the military."

The crew of the particular ship I was in was primarily made of scientists and young first-classers. As could be predicted, all of the young first-classers and most of the scientists refused to volunteer, aware of the danger of genetic experiments. There were some scientists (mostly the leads of the projects inside of our ship) that would cut off an arm in the name of science, and they volunteered. They, however, were deemed as "too valuable", and prevented from participating in the technological tests.

That only left two volunteers. One was doing it out of duty and a desire to serve the Tarak Empire… and the other was doing it out of sheer foolishness and misguided bravery.

The first was our ship's fiercely patriotic Captain, Allan Grey. Even though he was nearing his sixties, as indicated by his graying hair, he was a tall, strong man, with muscles bulging out of his shirt.

Strangely enough, it was this that prevented him from performing the tests.

"I'm sorry Captain Grey, but your age and size prevent us from performing the tests on you. You see, the specifications for a Ghost's physique sent to us by the government were of someone young, of light weight, and with the ability to be stealthy with the proper training. Even though your vital statistics are impressive, you don't fit the specifications."

That left only the other volunteer, Hibiki Tokai.

Myself.

You see, at that time, even though my appearance had already changed by then, and I had received a lot of knowledge from both briefings and some of the more interesting archives on the ship I was traveling in, my mind had not really changed to what it is now. I was still a rash, loudmouthed fool who was as undisciplined as you can get and who couldn't follow orders if his life depended on it.

And I also happened to be the best candidate for the Ghost Project out of all those who volunteered.

"Perfect! Perfect! The right age, lightweight, stealthy, even…you, my friend, are perfectly suited for the tests. Come now, let us start! We have no time to waste, no time at all!"

I am ashamed to admit it, but I actually felt proud at that time. I had been chosen, I had been told I was better than everyone…

I was such a fool.

And so, I let them lead me to their laboratory, where they performed all sorts of physical tests on me, culminating on the event that changed my life forever: when they decided it was enough, that I was ready for the real tests, and injected a powerful anesthetic on my body, knocking me out.

When I woke up, days later, I was a completely different person.

Even though on the outside I looked the same, inside was totally different.

DNA manipulation made me stronger, faster; my hearing and sense of smell were better, and hidden implants on my eyes gave me eyesight as good as a bird of prey's when activated. The wristblades implanted on my arms made sure that I always had a weapon with me, and the cloaking implant on the inside of the left side of my torso was designed to make me invisible with a simple press of my fingers on the right area.

I was a living weapon.

When the scientists explained it to me I wasn't sure about what to do or what to feel.

The experiment had been a success… no human being in or near the Mejer-Tarak system was stronger than me in any way, shape, or form.

However, the very structure of my being had been manipulated, changed through a process that could very well mean the death of the subject if there were any mistakes or miscalculations in the procedure… indeed, the scientists had taken the risk of my demise quite lightly.

At that moment, however, I was far too shocked to be angry, and soon after, I was taken away from the lab where I woke up to a conditioning room for training on my new… abilities.

"You have power Mr. Tokai, for the experiments performed on you were a complete success. However, you do not know how to use that power just yet, rendering it useless. Come now, let us bring you to the training room, were we will teach you…"

Though I certainly did learn the basics from the scientists, I obtained true knowledge over a long and arduous year of incessant fighting. A year that tainted the better part of me... forever.

Ah, grim thoughts... I shouldn't be thinking them right now, not when all I want is to get some sleep…

And still, even after having analyzed my power thoroughly I doubt that is what truly makes me, or anyone else for that matter, a man…

There's a very long list of possibilities, but-

Another yawn.

I'm tired now, and soon I will go home… perhaps the reactions of the people there will allow me to find the answer to this question I have posed myself with.

But until then, all I can do is hope that, no matter what I am or what makes me what I am, my friends will still be my friends when I get back…

A/N: And that's it. Nothing mayor was re-written here, but I fixed a few glaring mistakes.

-KW