Thinking about the super soldiers that could have been makes one sad.
Self Identity
They have no name.
Officially, they are known as Number Two. Officially, they are listed as female. Officially, they are young.
Officially, they do not exist.
They live in the Institute under the care of their minder. They are taught how to read, how to write, how to speak and listen, in many languages. It is never explained, but they can hear the words used by the minders: genius, better than the previous, a marked improvement.
They are better, the evidence states. Better than whom, they do not know. But they are better.
Philosophy is irrelevant to their learning, but they still wonder about it. While learning and memorizing entire battle plans, they consider the self, the concept of identity.
They have no name.
Names, they learn one night, are important. Names are integral to one's sense of self and identity, giving a label that can explain or define all the little pieces that make up someone.
The data crystals have nothing when they present it with the question of their identity. It vexes them, in ways they aren't quite able to articulate. How does one have a sense of self, have an identity, if they don't have a name?
There are philosophers, wise people from centuries past, who posit that a thinking creature inherently has a sense of self. "I think, therefore I am."
They balk at that idea. They are not taught to think, they are taught to react, to act with instinct and learned experience.
"I do not think, therefore I am not" has a dark presence to it that they would prefer not to have.
"I exist, therefore I am," they say one day. Their minder blinks, surprised.
"How did you come to that conclusion?" she asks, kind and gentle.
"Descartes is overrated," they reply. The minder laughs, and though they are not sure why, they smile in spite of themselves.
One day, the alarms go off. They look around for their minder, but everyone is rushing about, stopping and looking at the screens. There is a threat, they realize. A danger to the Institute. The same that they are taught to battle.
"You!" They turn to see their minder, harried and... scared? Yes, scared. "We need to leave. We need to get you somewhere safe. Celestial Being is here. They're here, and it's for you and your sibling."
"Sibling?" They question, following their minder through the halls. Lights are flickering, and the klaxons have stopped blaring.
"Your older sister. Number One. We named her Soma."
"She had a name?" They find themselves stuck on that part, despite the threat to the Institute.
"Every soldier we send out is given a name," their minder says, still moving. They follow, keeping careful not to outpace her.
"I will be sent out to combat this Celestial Being," they say matter-of-factly. "What is my name?"
Their minder stops, staring down at them in shock. She opens her mouth, and the world explodes in white and pain, before fading just to white.
