The Following Story is a fiction. All company names listed within are merely for fictual purposes, and are in no way the actual behavior or systems of the company. I don't claim ownership or membership with any of these companies, nor do the views or events in this story show my views or anyone else's.

San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station

Former Reactor Dome 1

DARPA BioNuclear Engineering

12/21/2012 - 0250hrs (2:50am)

Security Sergeant Markus Caine gave a sigh, leaning against the solid concrete barrier that led to the hollowed out shell of the old reactor. He shook his head, under the client's strict orders to remain outside. The red keycard clipped to his Kevlar vest glinted in the ominous glow of the halogen lights above. Grunting, he took a small flashlight and aimed it towards the hills, flashing it a few times. A second later, a small pinpoint light flashed back. Fuckin' snipers… he chuckled, knowing that the cold sea air was probably the snipers element, and all he had to do was look through his scope. Caine didn't care. He was assigned to stay in front of the reactor, something that made him feel uneasy. Every so often someone would emerge from the door. He'd scan their keycard, then watch them move on, gear clinking and shuffling. Whatever went on down there kept him on edge, but as a security guard under federal contract, he kept his mouth shut.

GlobalTech Security Systems had two policies when under federal orders:

Never question the clients.

Don't let ANYONE past.

Sergeant Caine, a six year veteran to GlobalTech, and an eight year veteran of the Marines, knew to follow orders spot on. Tonight was just another night. Go in, search some nerds, get out, get drunk. That was his agenda for the night. Whether the radiation would get to him, or if someone would be stupid enough to try and make a move on the plant, well, that wasn't really on his mind. The sounds of boots snapped him from his single track thought, and he rested a hand on the Beretta M9 holstered on his hip. "Who goes there?"

"It's me Sarge. Relieving you. Go on, they've got muffins and shit in the briefing room."

"You know that crap is probably nuclear." Caine tutted, fishing through his pockets and withdrawing a cigarette.

"Ahh I don't give a damn. It's good, and it's food. I'm wouldn't blow my break just to go up to San Clemente for a burger. Just go try it out." Said the other guard.

Caine nodded, lit his cigarette, and with a sigh stepped past him and moved along. As he continued, he noticed a blur of movement coming from in between two reactor domes. He stopped, cigarette in mouth, and aimed his flashlight in that direction. "Hello? Who goes there?" he said. Silence came back. He narrowed his eyes, and stepped towards the spot. He could feel the sniper aiming just over his shoulder, wanting to both check out what Caine was looking for, and see if he could kill it first. After finding nothing, Caine groaned and holstered the light, before continuing towards the main took three steps, then stopped, looking up at the top of the reactor dome. He spotted a figure standing there. It was too dark to make out his face, but he was clad in a dark suit. Caine narrowed his eyes, and whistled to get the mans attention. Nothing. He keyed the mic on his radio and spoke, "Sam-1 reporting, I got an unknown tango, on tops of Reactor 2. Seems to be a large male, about 7' tall, dark suit. Any backup units respond."

No grabbed the mic and repeated his message, slower and louder this time. Still no response. Grabbing his flashlight, he flashed it at the hill again, before aiming it up towards the figure. The light didn't reach the man, but he knew that if the sniper was watching, he would've followed the light and switched over to his radio frequency. Now on alert, Caine moved to the ladder and began climbing. He continued, moving up, until he was only a few feet from the figure. From here, he could see that the man was in a formal business suit, black in color, and was looking down at the entrance to Reactor 1, leaning against the antenna pole. Caine drew the M9 and took aim, "Security! Don't move!". The man merely turned his head a bit, before resuming his viewing of the Reactor.

"Put your hands up! On your head, do it now!"

"Come to check out the fireworks too, eh?" came a cold, dark voice. Caine blinked and shook his head, "Get on your knees! Hands up!"

"I'm afraid that's not an option, sergeant." Came the voice again. Caine glared at the man, keeping his pistol trained on him, "Who the hell are you?"

"They call me Judge. Not really what I do, but I guess more so what I am." He said simply. He turned around and looked Caine in the eyes. "Do you know what goes on down there?"

Caine growled, and shook his head.

"Right. Well then. I guess I'll start here. How many people live on Earth…. Maybe, 7 billion? Well, out of those, there are several thousand people who hold a specific gene. It's called the conduit gene. No one knows it exists just yet… well, a few… but it holds the ability to take harmful nuclear and biological radiation and make it into something positive and powerful. Superpowers if you want. And here, in all it's filth, is the United fucking States exploiting and engineering ways to quarantine and remove these abilities. Just imagine. If you pose a threat to the government, even just by existing with a few special powers, you get purged. Some argue this keeps balance in check. If you ask me, it's barbaric, and rather unfair. So many people in the world are unaware of this gift. Thankfully, there are people like me, who will liberate them… show them their true strength. Yes.."

"Why are you telling me this crap." Growled Caine, still holding his weapon out. Superpowers? Either this guy was drunk or he was crazy. Either way, he was dangerous.

"Because there is literally nothing you can do, Sergeant. You can shoot me. Doesn't matter. We're both dead anyway." Said the man, standing up and moving away from the pole and looking Caine square in the face. "You and I…" he said softly. "We're the same, don't you get that?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" snapped Caine.

"You and I, are going to be the first to change. Though… I for the better, and you for the worse. The last few men you witnessed entering that chamber were not who you thought they were. Call us terrorists, we prefer to think of ourselves as the Infamous. This entire facility, in one night, became a key. A key leading to a door to a new world. And when the plan is completed, you and all the other judgement filled people of this earth will die and suffer a plague of poison and sickness, while WE thrive, grow, and our powers surface! I will be reborn, this body destroyed and replaced with one of a true conduit!" he cried. Caine blinked and cocked back the hammer to his pistol.

"Bullshit… there's nothing you can…" he started, before a rumble came from beneath. He looked down, and back up at the man. "What have you done…"

"It's begun." He replied simply, before leaping back away from the center. With a roar, a circular hole was torn from the shell, going all the way through the thick metal and concrete to the core of the reactor. Caine fell back, losing his weapon in the process. He stared at the ominous machinery and metal enclosure, knowing exactly what it was. Steam billowed out, fogging the air, as the plants sirens began to wail.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" he repeated in shock, feeling the immense heat of the uranium core below. The man merely laughed, holding up a spherical object, which was glowing in the middle.

"I have begun the process. Energy field manipulation, my friend! Not even this shell of metal and stone can stop it. So, now, we change the world! Together, yes? And what more perfect of a day to do it then the day the world is supposed to end!" he said with another laugh, before switching on the sphere and dropping it into the reactor chamber. A brilliant white light flashed, and before either of them could utter another word, the dome exploded, arcs of red electricity reaching out and destroying anything nearby. Reactor 3 was doing the same, and Caine, as he fell, could see a similar figure standing on the ground nearby, arms outstretched as though he was receiving a gift from the divine. The arcs disappeared, and Caine hit the ground hard, feeling bones in his body break. He groaned loudly, and grabbed his damaged mic, hitting the key. "Someone… help… someone…." He muttered, before the plant blew.

San Onofre was only a piece of the whole puzzle. Coordinated strikes against almost all nuclear plants crippled the United States. The world also sustained a blow as the terrorist attacks went international, Russia taking a specifically brutal blow. With the UN on full alert, the world began to catch itself from the fall, luckily preventing a nuclear war, given that most countries had immediately blamed each other for attacks. However, the explosions did not go without consequence. Immediately, the continental US suffered a strange plague, caused by a specific yet unknown type of radiation from the blasts. This plague grew like a cancer but spread without interference, the disease airborne and spread over the US like a blanket. Most people were fairly immune to the effects, with the most common symptoms being headaches, nausea, depression, and high fevers. The most dangerous symptoms were excessive blood loss (similar to the Ebola virus) and organ failure, due to the plagues mutation of cells within, causing them to attack the body. Death was becoming an epidemic, and the US showed no plan or ability to contain it. President Obama was nowhere to be found, though it was rumored that he was infected and suffering from it as well. In some places, the government failed to establish itself altogether. Law enforcement had devolved into a militia, dedicated to trying to keep the peace using all means, until it eventually led to simply executing those who wronged, regardless of the act. One of the worst areas was Southern California, once beautiful Orange County, now known as the Orange Wastelands. San Diego was practically destroyed by the reactor of a nuclear vessel being converted into a bomb. But what really hit, was the intention of the attacks.

All throughout the US, for the next few months, people began to surface showing an increase in abilities. Some could run far faster and longer than others. Some could take hits and fall from great distances without being harmed. Some could even manipulate specific elements, like fire. These people officially gave themselves a name, based on the gene that allowed them their abilities. Conduits. However, these Conduits weren't welcomed in most societies. In fact, many of them were prosecuted, blamed for events, and even hunted down and killed. Many kept their abilities to themselves, while some people with the gene didn't even receive their gifts, although they remained immune to the disease. The world spiraled, as racial and gender intolerances were replaced with extremist naturalism. Hated, the Conduits were exiled and left to fend for themselves, while the US continued to drop into a kill-or-be-killed nation, scarred and twisted.