Okay, just so you know, this story is based on mythology in general.
The Beginning -
John's POV
Present day, underground terrorist base
The first thing John Berkowitz felt was the pain. It seemed to smother him, trying to make him sleep, once again …
He forced his eyes to open. He seemed to be wearing a mask of some kind, and with a quick glance, he realized he was wearing a metallic suit that covered him from head to toe. He was also suspended in the middle of a large cylinder of glass, which was filled with a greenish fluid. The fluid was semi-transparent, so John could observe his surroundings. He was in a laboratory of some kind, and there were two other cylinders like the one he was floating in, only these were empty. There was also a box full of ammunition and a few AK-47s lying next to it. The place looked quite old, but it was quite neat and tidy.
He suddenly heard voices. Muffled, faint, but voices nonetheless. He struggled to comprehend what they said.
'' … completely understand, sir, but are you sure? Subject Alpha could, with a little persuasion, work for us - ''
'' I don't care about the 'maybe'. All I want is pure fact. Besides, according to this file, he used to be Russian. You sure we can trust these guys? I don't think so. So, Dr. Pearson, I suggest you shut da hell up and do it. ''
'' You do realize you're relying on a stereotype. ''
Now John could see them. Dr. Pearson was a short, stout man in his late sixties, and his clothes were quite strange. His accent reminded our protagonist of Fu Yong Chang, who was John's … what? Master? Teacher? Yes, Chang was definitely a teacher. But what did he teach? John wondered.
The 'commander', on the other hand, was a tall, well built, middle-aged man with a military haircut. His clothes were quite strange, just like the doctor's. He had a brisk, though informal tinge to his voice.
'' I need that suit right now. Besides, he's been in a coma for, what - 40 years? Just fry him to oblivion, and I'll finally wear it.''
It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were about to do. And John was much smarter than several geniuses.
He realized there was nothing he could do about it. Dr. Pearson was already reaching for a lever, and John could hardly look for an escape in the suit's bulky visor. Any movements would certainly be his last.
Suddenly, there was an explosion in the distance.
'' Da hell was that? '' Said the terrorist leader.
'' It seemed to be coming from the life support system, sir. '' Said the doctor, checking a strange, black device of some kind.
'' What're you waiting for? GO! '' Roared the leader, running away with the doctor in tow.
John quickly thanked God for his miracles.
He made sure they were gone, and then he smashed the glass separating him from freedom. It splintered instantly, and the liquid spilled out. As he walked outside, he grabbed one of the AK-47 the terrorist had left behind, plus some ammo.
As soon as he came to a corridor, he begun to run in the direction some signs pointed to, and surprisingly, the suit didn't hinder his progress at all. In fact, it seemed to be powering his muscles with adrenaline. He leaped over some awestruck terrorists with ease, and while turning in midair, shot them in the head. He kept running, faster and faster, to the exit, shooting all that was in his path, amazed that he wasn't suffering any pain anymore.
As he neared the exit, some terrorists overcame their shock and instinctively shot at the weird being that was running at them. Amazingly, John's armor deflected the bullets as though they were made of plastic, and the terrorists used plan B: running for their lives.
With his head held high in victory, John leaped over a gate, and after some minutes of running at an unbelievable rate, was safe in the woods.
Thank you, Lord. He thought, right before he passed out.
Approximately 50 years ago …
John Berkowitz smiled at the waitress and asked for some coffee.
'' 'Course, handsome boy. '' She smiled back, fluttering her eyelids at him while she walked to the bar.
In a way, the waitress was completely right. Back in the day, John had golden-brown hair and grey eyes. He was tall and muscular. Although he was poor, he was quite tidy. He brushed his teeth and shaved almost every day. He may have been Russian, but he was more handsome than several of the boys in the city.
While he read the evening paper, a man in U.S. Army fatigues walked into the café. In three long strides, he had reached John's booth.
John smiled and saluted the soldier.
'' Good evening, sir. ''
'' There is a message for you, Mr. Berkowitz. Your sensei requires you to return to North Korea. '' Said the man without returning the greeting.
'' Why? What happened? ''
'' It seems your training isn't fully complete. The sensei requested you depart immediately to his home. ''
'' Is there a problem? '' Said the waitress, who had come to the table with the coffee.
'' None at all, Mindy. Say, why don't you keep the change and drink the coffee yourself? '' John said, standing up and handing her a 10 dollar bill. '' I need to leave urgently. ''
Amazed at the amount of money John was giving her, Mindy stood rooted to the spot while the soldier and the handsome boy left. She sighed, hoping that someday, John may take an interest in her.