Sharpening his combat knife methodically, Sergeant James Heller remained silent as the other soldiers around him kept talking inside their APC.
"Why are we even here? We're supposed to be peacekeepers, handling civilians an' shit. Give this Red Zone bullshit to Blackwatch." Said one of the soldier to the other, while James remained silent.
"Shit, you want to leave a patrol to those baby-killers? Hell, baby killers is too nice. I bet their Zoanoids EAT babies." This immediately garnered a reaction from one of Zoanoid part of their squad. "Erm, look no offense man."
"No, it's fine. I get it. Blackwatch is fucking crazy, I'll give you that." replied the currently untransformed Zoanoid soldier. "Just don't think we're all like that, okay? Blackwatch is Blackwatch, whatever the fuck they really do. They're their own branch or some shit, I dunno, it's classified."
Soon, another of the Zoanoid soldier joined the conversation. "Hey, Heller! You asked to get processed yet? With all this crazy stuff going on around here, you got some serious balls to be on Red Zone duty without being processed."
The APC kept rolling around, patrolling the Red Zone. Not a pretty sight, the soldiers often thought. Even after things had gotten weirder, this outbreak was still the icing on the cake. Things had changed after X-Day. Chronos had revealed itself and taken over the world. Except things turned out rather fine, all things considered. The world became unified, peace reigned and science and medicine kept advancing by leaps and bounds. A far cry from the regime of terror people expected. In fact, people had started embracing Chronos with open hands.
But not James Heller. While he remained within the military, the sergeant had vehemently refused to be processed into a Zoanoid, ever after being offered a prestigious rank. With his skills, Chronos had plans to turn him into a new, high ranking Hyper-Zoanoid. However, James refused. He figured that some other poor schmuck had taken the offer in his place. He had never regretted the decision, not even once.
"Nah. I got no interest in being turned into a fucking monster." grimly replied the man, not even looking at his interlocutor while still methodically sharpening his knife, never changing pace. 'Beside, I don't fucking need it' thought Heller to himself.
Suddenly, a shock rocked the vehicle, sending them tumbling. Groaning in pain, James pulled himself from the wreckage and blinked, looking at the devastated, apocalyptic landscape around him, the city reduced to ruins overgrown by...whatever that red stuff was. James wasn't exactly sure what it was but he thought it was a bit gross and reminded him of some bloody slab of gooey meat. Nearby, a massive, scaly fist bursted from the debris and a large, oversized muscular green creature pulled itself up. A power-type zoanoid called a Gregole, recalled James, as he got told a few times.
"Heller, you all right?" asked the creature with it's distorted voice. Of course, the creature was one of the soldier previously in the APC alongside him. He must have survived the shock by transforming. Confirming James's suspicion, the other Zoanoid in his squad pulled itself from the debris, this one a hairy creature with fangs and claws.
"Ninja Three-Three, what's your squad status?" asked the radio.
Gliding down from the sky, leaving behind glowing trails, a man landed nearby, shattering the ground on impact and rising from the debris completely unharmed, despite being an unassuming, if somewhat suspicious man in a hoodie. "Holy shit." said James, whispering, not answering the radio's question. "Alex Mercer."
"Alex Mer-Oh shit! Red Crown, we've got Alex Mercer in RZ Grid Three-Four. Repeat! Alex Mercer is in the AO, RZ Grid Three-Four. We are awaiting your command." the radio chatter continued.
"Ninja Three-Three this is Red Crown. We are sending reinforcements to your location. Do not pursue Mercer. We are sending Zoanoid reinforcements. Do not pursue Mercer, repeat." That didn't sit well with James, not one bit. "Red Crown be advised; I'm not in fucking Blackwatch." To the utter shock of his Zoanoid squadmates, Heller pulled out his combat knife and charged at Mercer. The blade sank into his throat. And yet it didn't seem to do a thing as James found himself tossed aside like a ragdoll into a wall.
Seeing as their chance to lay low had been ruined, the two Zoanoids lept at Mercer. One landed next to him, Mercer having already moved out of the way, while the other lept down at the man. Once more, Mercer dodged out of the way. "What the hell are you anyway?" asked the Gregole. "'Cause you just look like any other scrawny guy I've ever met!" taunted the green creature, throwing a punch at the hooded man's face. With a single hand, small compared to that of the Zoanoid, Mercer stopped the punch, not even flinching.
With a single flick of Mercer's wrist, the Zoanoid's arm and shoulder broke with a sickening sound. While it reeled in pain, Mercer's right arm twisted and bulged, melting and reshaping into a long, curved blade. With a single swipe, the Gregole found itself bisected. The second zoanoid tried to intervene but met a similar fate. As Alex Mercer surveyed the carnage, he shook his head, perhaps in disappointment and then walked away, the blade folding back into his arm.
Grunting, James pulled himself back up despite the shattered ribs. As soon as Mercer had his back turned, the soldier charged the creature that had just made mincemeat of two Zoanoids. It was as if James Heller had become rage incarnate and maybe he was, as he kept stabbing and slicing Mercer, who instantly healed from the wounds. Tired of all this, Mercer punched him and the man got once more tossed aside. "What else you got?" said Mercer, smirking, as James pulled himself back up once again. "Come on, change. Transform. Let's fight like monsters."
"I'm not a fucking monster like you!" screamed out James as he charged Mercer once again, this time stabbing him in the eye. Lashing out like a mad animal, James punched Mercer again and again despite how unusually hard the man's body felt. For all his efforts, he found himself tossed to the ground yet again. "I can't believe it. You're just human. Someone here certainly has a death wish." And with that, Mercer, still smirking, began jogging away from James.
Heller's voice echoed across the empty streets: "MERCER, DON'T YOU RUN FROM ME!" However, Mercer had something else to do here, before this insane man tried to jump him and futilely attempt to murder him. There was something in a nearby abandoned Chronos building. Something he felt was calling out. Mercer had learned from those Blackwatch troopers that the place had been overrun during the viral outbreak and Chronos hadn't had the time to recover whatever was inside that building.
Mercer arrived at his destination, with Heller still in tow, running to catch his prey while in pain from his injuries. "What are you; answers to my questions, maybe?" wondered Mercer out loud as he began tearing apart the large door in the front of the Chronos facility. James Heller, still in tow, followed him into the building. The place was abandoned but mostly untouched, noticed Heller. It seemed like it was some sort of lab.
Inside a large underground room, several stories high, there was some large structure. Like a shell. Or a cocoon of some kind. Pale yellow in color, with a hint of a metallic tinge. "There you are." Mercer looked at it, fascinated. What was it? He knew he could vaguely feel there was something powerful inside, growing but that it wasn't related to the virus. It was something different. His body unfurling into writhing, fleshy tentacles, Mercer prepared himself to absorb whatever that chrysalis was into himself.
Yet this would prove to be both Mercer's greatest mistake but also his salvation. As his cells attacked the chrysalis, so did they. The power contained within it proved to be too much. Immediately, Mercer felt himself repelled by the chrysalis, causing him to fall to the ground, his physical form writhing in pain, temporarily losing shape, glowing tumours sprouting on his body and clothes, blades and claws randomly popping from his limbs.
His vision blurred, Alex saw a figure walking, nay, limping toward him, knife in hand, face twisted by rage. "Looks like this isn't your lucky day, Mercer." spitted out James. Mercer tried to speak but his body was being ravaged from his contact with the chrysalis, which had somehow overloaded his body. Heller had revenge right within his grasp. Seizing this rare opportunity, he furiously attacked Mercer's weakened body. Mercer's arms extended into long, segmented whips, one that managed to grasp Heller and pin him to a wall. Hoping absorbing this man would help him recover, Mercer began assimilating Heller into his body, tendrils erupting from the man's body and into his victim.
Something went wrong. Mercer knew it, even in his state of confusion. Letting go of Heller, he collapsed to the ground, the memories flooding back in. What he had done. All the people he had killed. Their screams. Weakened, Mercer stumbled around, before collapsing against a wall. On the other side of the room, James Heller was writhing in pain, the wound on his chest slowly closing. "Mer...cer…" whispered out Heller. Even when dying, his anger was still there.
"I miss you daddy!" Said a girl's voice in his mind. His girl. His little, precious girl. His daughter, Amaya. Everything was going dark, the world slowly fading away. As everything disappeared, James Heller recalled the last thing he had said to her; "I miss you too baby girl, but don't worry, daddy's coming home."