Project Infinite

Project Infinite: The Way Of The Ninja

This is a re-edited version of the original, since there was so many things I did wrong and am fixing them with this, once I made enough decent chapters, I'll erase the original and leave this one, this will contain the same paragraph, but with new stuff and a bit more longer

[Dossier of Project -Codename Angel- Year 4529 Standard Calendar]

On the day he was born, the scientists took him. They killed off his family, and experimented on him. Angel was born with a special gene, the gene of a god. Because of that he was tested on, he was implanted with everything from synthetic eyes to boosters for strength, perception, and even charm. A Monocyte Breeder Implant allowed him to constantly regenerate any damage, and Sub-Dermal Armor implants made him neigh un-killable.

He was also being genetically modified to quickly learn anything he wanted to, or needed to. Along with this he was given a special Bijuu, or 'Tail Beast', they created called Infinite no Yoko, allowing him to access the spiritual energy of Chakra. The scientists declared it to be stronger than all other Bijuu, due to possessing unlimited Chakra, and stamina. This special Bijuu also granted him knowledge of Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, Taijutsu, Kenjutsu, the Sage Art's and Fuinjutsu, in which he was skilled enough to outclass any before him.

He also received extensive weaponry and fire arm training as part of his conditioning. In two years' time the scientists told him they had a gift. This 'gift' was a modified version of the 'Blacklight' Virus, or DX-1118-C. The new strain was much less dangerous, and instead of fully consuming it's host, simply allowed for all the benefits of previous strains. Enhanced strength, speed, endurance, and the ability to consume living biomass to assimilate knowledge and skills.

Through this process Angel gained an even greater knowledge of military tactics and kit, due to the consumption of many 'volunteer' soldiers and guards. Aside from that, Angel manifested a variant of Hunter Vision, codenamed 'Predator Sight', allowing him to locate living biomass through matter up to and including 26ft of solid concrete.

On the combat side of things, consumption of various Infected granted him use of the Claws, Blade, Whipfist, and Hammerfist mutations. From these he experimented with his own genetics to create new mutations, a form of wings enhanced upon his already present Glide ability, allowing him to fly indefinitely. A combination of chakra and biomass allowed the creation of a kind of flamethrower, spitting out superheated biomass at targets, and melting them as they tried to get it off.

In the next year Angel was injected with the God of War's blood. Upon receiving them, the Blades of Exile recognized him to be their owner, due to his blood, and gave freely the power to wield them. The next gift given unto him was the Golden Fleece; a legendary armor previously used by Helios, God of the Sun itself.

As a final modification, Angel was injected with all the separate bloodlines of the most powerful of the Elemental Nation clans, the hope was to allow him use of all the mystical eye energies, but there was a mistake. During the process, something happened that still nobody can explain, and a reaction occurred in Angel's body, causing the blood types to fuse together, and force Angel to manifest what has since been codenamed the 'Eternal Rinnegan', allowing him dominion over all elemental forces, and all that comes with that power.

All of these gifts and advancements came with a price, however, pain, agony, sorrow and yet more. Never given a break to rest, always testing him. Always experimenting, Angel sometimes wished for the pain to go away, to just die and make the pain leave him forever, but he never could, and the scientist would lock him up using the chains of the Blades of Exile to trap him against the wall.

*Current Time*

In a silent room a groan was heard. The source being a seemingly-teenage boy, who was busy picking himself off of the floor. The name of this young man was Edward Werner, standing at a full height of about 5 foot 11 inches; his head is covered by messily maintained dark brown hair. His skin is of a fair shade, of a pale coloration common in cold, sunless places. His shining emerald eyes being the most colorful of his features.

Edward was currently clad in a beat up black, heavy cloth, long coat. It was patched with varying shades of cloth, due to being worn so much. Finally a faded yellowing paper tag hanging off the collar by a thread read in Victorian font 'Plot Armor'. Completing the ensemble was a faded shamrock green T-shirt, and some very worn blue jeans, along with what appeared to be black leather dress shoes.

Upon standing, Edward mutters to himself, "Where the hell am I?" His voice contains a noticeable German accent; giving every word he says a harsher, more guttural undertone, although not to the extent as to make him unintelligible. Looking around the room, he notices TV screens set upon the walls, a control console and some rather comfortable chairs were placed in the middle of the large set of screens, and a door that Edward assumed to be the exit was located behind him. Looking at the monitor screens, Edward saw many cells with prisoners contained inside, somewhere quietly sitting, others desperately crying. A few of the screens showed multiple guards demonstrating a definition example of 'police brutality' on some random kid. Oddly enough, quite a few of the screens were focused on a lone prisoner chained up against a wall by rather uncomfortable looking chains wrapped about his arms.

"Weird..." Edward says to himself, trying not to dwell on any of the scenes of abuse. Looking over the control panel, he could see many unlabeled, but colorful, buttons and switches. Save for one large, red button, label simply with 'DO NOT PRESS'.

"Oh, come on, that button is just asking to be pressed," his genre savviness told him that this large button either turned on the alarms, or activated some kind of self-destruct system. Edward shrugs, "Eh, why not? Chances say I'll find some way out of here if I push it... hopefully."

Almost immediately after depressing the button, red emergency lights started flashing, along with a klaxon alarm being sounded. "Let's just hope that isn't the self-destruct mechanism." Edward says, muttering a bit of a prayer to some arbitrary god, as before his eyes all the cell doors viewable on the many screens started to open. Guards could be seen scurrying about, trying to maintain control of the situation. While shit was going down, Edward opened up the exit and walked out. Looking around all he saw were industrial gray, concrete halls. Straining his ears, he heard shouting from down one of them. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Edward started walking down the corridor opposite of that one hall.

*Meanwhile, in the cell containing the chained teenager*

Chained up to the wall by the Blades of Exile hung a teenager whom appeared to be close to 18 years of age. This man was named Angel. Were he upon the ground, he would stand at a looming 6 feet 5 inches tall. He wore his hair spiked, reaching halfway down his back, in a style that caused his bangs to cover his eyes. He was clad in a black trench coat, with its attached hood hanging on his shoulders. A white button-up shirt was worn under this, covered mostly by a black vest. Thin, dark blue jeans were loosely held up by his hips. His feet were covered by black leather combat boots, armored with black-steel around the ankles, and leg along with the body of the foot. Completing his outfit were a pair of ratty black, fingerless gloves, which provided no real warmth due to the many holes in them.

Angel raised his head, allowing his synthetic eyes to catch the light. With a blink they swiftly change to become his Juubis eyes, a small smile came across his face not soon after, swiftly turning to a dark, and slightly manic, grin. "Time to leave this hellhole," he growled out as klaxons sounded, and shit hit the fan.

The Facility's alarms went off and at the same time released Angel's Blade from the locks, while also opening his cell door. The chains of his blades wrap back around his arms, almost comforting now, as they hold themselves at either of his hips in the practiced swordsman's reach. Swiftly cracking his knuckles, back, and neck to get the kinks and stiffness out, "aaahhh it's good to be out of those chains, they were giving me back pains," muttered Angel aloud, while walking from his cell.

Upon exiting, Angel was surrounded by many armed guards, "HALT! Project Infinite, return to your cell!" Shouted one of the guards, Angel took a glance at the guards, reached for his Blade of Exile and dashed forward, taking them by surprise with his speed. Angel took out the one in front of him first, stabbing him in the stomach, causing the guard to let out a scream of pain. It didn't stop there, however, as Angel used him as a battering ram to slam into the guard's comrades, knocking them over. When Angel was done he plunged his other Blade into the guard he held, and ripped him in twain. His Blade of Exile absorbed the crimson blood of the befallen guard, gaining a reddish glow. Angel looked at the remaining guards and growls out, "whose next?" He didn't allow an answer, instead dashing towards the terrified guards. Angel began to twirl his dual blades from the chains held in his hands, swiftly whipping them about to decapitate the guards, as their blood fed his Blade's thirst. At the end of the skirmish, the only things remaining were the blood-drained bodies of the task force of guards. Looking about for a bit, Angel eventually spotted a sign, declaring where the armory was. He began walking that way with one thought in his mind, gearing up for total destruction.

*Meanwhile with Edward, five minutes later*

"What is this place? Black-Fucking-Mesa?!" Edward growled in frustration, the past five minutes were spent going down corridor after corridor, occasionally taking turns at a few crossroads. Looking around, Edward noticed he had ended up in one of the many cell blocks.

"Hm, wonder where all the guards are at," Edward muttered, it was a valid question since the entire time he had been walking down the gray halls, he hadn't met any kind of resistance.

"Hey you! Stop right there!" Edward hears a guard shout to him as he curses himself for jinxing it. Looking up he noticed that the guard's shouts had alerted others in the area, which were approaching with batons drawn.

Edward muttered a curse at his luck, "screw this, I'm outta here!" Was his eloquent reply to the situation, before he began running down another corridor, taking random turns at any crossroads he came to. After some time he managed to lose the guards, but now he had even less of an idea as to where he was.

"Fucking great, this place really is Black Mesa." Edward muttered in frustration, before his wandering eyes landed upon a door with a sign noting 'Armory' above it. "Ooh; now that sounds like a fun time for me," Edward enters the armory, a mischievous smile upon his face, a smile that grows all the wider upon observing the multitude of weapons that were stowed around the room. However, the most eye-catching thing in the room happened to be that one teenager he'd seen shackled up to a wall in the observation room.

"Oi, weren't you that one guy-" was all Edward managed to say before being cut off due to immediate transportation via some kind of blinding flash.

*Moments before, the Armory*

Upon entering the Armory, Angel is greeted by a truly awesome amount of weaponry, from swords to rifles, from handguns to LMGs, from anti-tank rifles to all kinds of explosives, armaments lined the walls. After looking about for a bit, Angel spied a pair of nickel plated Desert Eagles that he was rather interested in. Taking a moment to infuse them with his chakra, after doing a quick inspection to make sure they were in working order, he slides them into the underarm holsters that went with them.

The next items to catch his eye were a pair of MP7 SMGs, making sure they were properly taken care of; he infuses them with his own chakra and slings them over his shoulders, allowing the guns to hang right about his lower back from their carry straps.

Wanting something with a tad more firepower, Angel looks around the vast Armory, before settling his eyes upon an M249 LMG. Going through the standard maintenance check for any kind of LMG, he infuses it with his own chakra as with all the other weapons, and attaches a hybrid sight to the top rail, along with a bi-pod, before lugging it over his shoulder to hang about his back.

Out of the vast amount of weaponry about him, Angel's eyes were only caught by one final rifle. A black M40A5 long range rifle. Inspecting the bolt for an easy pull, along with giving the internal magazine a quick check, he imparts it with his spiritual essence, before trading out the 12x magnification scope, and replacing it with a 5x to 40x one. Finally going through the hassle of getting the rifle strap under his LMG, and letting the rifle hang at his side. Deciding to look about for anything else he might one, Angel grabs what appear to be some high-explosive grenades, and field schematics along with repair instructions for the weapons he'd decided to cart off with him.

All of this done, Angel pulls out an experimental 'time-travel' watch that R&D had been working on. Trying to get it to send him where he wants, Angel becomes lost to the world around him for a time. What he didn't expect, however, was to be startled by a gruff voice calling out behind him. This inadvertently caused him to fumble the watch, clicking a button and spinning a dial, causing both himself and this mystery person to vanish from the room in a flash of light. Leaving nothing, but dust and echoes.

Well what do you guys and gals think of the Redux version of the story? Good? Bad? 50/50? Remember to comment/review, if you like it to favorite and follow, also if you flame that while just go to the fireplace and stoke the fire, so remember this, my story, my rule, I while happily accept advice or help even, but no going on and saying shit about not being good or that it's a waste or whatever, I could say the same for your stories, but I don't, cause I respect them, each one their own style of writing stories, so yeah, I respect your style, you respect mine and I would like to thank my partner/co-writer/friend for the help and to his friend in checking it out for me and helping with my grammar or error, since English isn't my native tongue, it's Spanish.

Anyway, hope you enjoy and I'll see you all later, peace!