X-Men:

Everlast

Prologue:

7:00am, August 17th, 2011

"We found this one outside the facility," the soldier told his commanding officer, motioning to the girl sitting at the table in the interrogation room. "She put up a fight, but we managed to calm her down enough to arrest her."

General Phillips looked at the girl through the one-way mirror. She had long silver hair that reached the small of her back, eyes that were so dark they were practically violet, and was wearing tattered clothing that barely clung to her small frame. She couldn't have been older than sixteen.

"Are those chains really necessary, soldier?" he asked.

The soldier straightened. "All due respect, General, I think it's safer if those chains are on, sir."

"Did she wound any of our men?" the General asked as he watched her staring at the table, her gaze unwavering.

"Seven men, sir." The soldier looked at her, almost in a disgusted kind of fear. "She dislocated some limbs, broke a few bones, and even tried to gouge out some eye sockets."

General Phillips could have sworn he saw the girl's mouth move a tiny bit, as if smiling. "How could a kid do that to an entire Special Ops team?"

"I can't say, sir. I just know what I saw." The soldier looked at the General, his eyes pleading to be dismissed.

So the General did just that. "That'll be all, soldier. Back on duty."

The soldier quickly snapped to attention and saluted, and then he made his way out to his patrol. The General studied the girl for a few moments longer before he looked to his technicians.

"Has anyone found any genetic matches?" he asked.

A technician beckoned him over. "Sir, the DNA sample given to us has just been analyzed, and the results were sent here."

The General peered over the technicians shoulder. "But she looks… different."

The girl in the picture had eyes so blue it was like staring at the sky, and short brown hair that only reached the nape of her neck. She also looked much younger, and after checking the date, it appeared to be taken when she was twelve; four years ago.

"Adresteia Bennett has been missing for four years, taken from her school," the technician read. "The genetic code matches, but still…"

"You never hear a name like that anymore," another technician piped up.

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement. The General sighed.

"I'll work with this. Monitor everything that happens in that room!" he ordered swiftly and marched into the interrogation room.

The girl didn't even look at him as he sat down. He stared at her for a few moments, wondering if she would look at him, but when she didn't, he cleared his throat to speak.

And yet she beat him to it. "Adresteia Bennett… It's a familiar name," she said. "I can't say that I've used a name in a long time. It's almost a relief to hear a name instead of a number."

The General regained his composure. "A number?"

"Subject 48069B. I've gone by that for the past four years." She leaned back in her chair. "Strange… It feels so much longer than that."

Leaning forward, the General pushed a folder towards the girl. "Recognize these people?"

The girl studied the General for a moment before she reached forward and opened the file, her eyes scanning the pictures intelligently.

"Yes," she answered after a few moments. She placed each picture on the table and spun them around so General Phillips could see them. "The man here was the one who brought me to that place. And this one was the one I saw every day when he would come to give me 'treatments'." As she moved to the last picture, the General could have sworn he saw a tiny flash of anger appear for a moment on her face, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. "And this man is the one who used to beat me when I would misbehave."

The General nodded and grabbed one last picture from the folder, then tentatively pushed it towards her. "And this man?"

She only looked at the picture for a second before she looked back at the General and said in a calm, straight voice, "That's the first man I was ordered to kill."

"Ordered?" the General repeated.

She nodded slowly. "By the man in black."

The General leaned back in his chair and folded his hands neatly on his stomach. "You're admitting that you willingly killed this man?"

She shook her head. "I never said willingly."

"Then what're you saying, Miss Bennett?" the General prodded.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she reopened them, her face somehow more serious than before. General Phillips' curiosity about her only grew—a kid killer, who could easily best his Special Ops team, and keep the straightest face he'd ever seen no matter what pressure he put on her.

"Do you really want to know the answer to that question, General Phillips?" she asked. "It may take a while to answer, if you're willing to listen to it all."

The General didn't move. "There's an explanation behind it?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes, General. Are you willing to listen?"

The General sat straight in his chair and moved his hands to the table. "I have time," he said firmly.

The girl nodded again. "Then be sure to listen carefully, sir. This story begins four years ago; just when I realized that I was slightly different from other kids my age."

"Slightly?"

"Everything I did—jumping, running, lifting—was exceptionally better than other kids my age. A few days after I realized this, some men came to my school's playground at recess, claiming to be there to pick me up. My parents, of course, had given my sisters and I the 'talk' about strangers, but they said my parents were in trouble, so I went with them." She paused, as if remembering the events. "They knocked me out, and when I came to, I was alone, in a cell."

The General narrowed his eyes. "Where, exactly?"

She shook her head. "I don't know specifics, but I do know what it's called."

"What?"

Underneath the table, the girl's fist clenched. "Section 7."