Prologue
A Glimpse Into Darkness
Deep underground, at the center of a labyrinth of metallic corridors, behind foot-thick doors, a battle raged. The room was dark except for a cone of light in the center, where a lone warrior stood in a battle stance. He wore a black jumpsuit and helmet trimmed with white, leaving no part of his body uncovered. His helmet was shaped to resemble a dragon's head, with the visor set inside the dragon's mouth, and was mostly smooth except for twin crests that ran parallel from front to back along the top, made to look like the bony cranial ridges an actual dragon might have sported. The warrior's chest and stomach were covered by light armor plating, glossy black and scaly in appearance, as though made from the skin of a large reptile.
The dragon warrior's head swiveled slowly from left to right, tracking figures in the darkness around him, able to hear and see far better than the average human. Something lunged at him, and he turned to meet the oncoming attack, blocking and striking in return. His fist struck a man's solar plexus with the sickening squelch of knuckle against flesh, and the would-be assailant soared backward and out of view. There was a wet smack as he hit the wall, but it barely registered. The other men who had been hiding in the pitch black of the room now swarmed the dragon warrior, swinging swords, chains, baseball bats, and myriad other weapons. The mysterious dark figure fought them all off, moving with inhuman speed, never uttering even a grunt of effort. It seemed well within his power to take on scores of men at a time without breaking a sweat.
After a few minutes of intense fighting, the dark warrior stood amongst a dozen or more unconscious bodies, and the room was silent again. Standing up straight, he turned his head upwards and shouted, "Are these the best of your forces?"
Above him, lights flicked on to illuminate a large control room, separated from this room by several segments of plated glass. Behind the glass sat a half dozen technicians in white labcoats, with more standing behind them. Among the technicians stood another man, his thick black hair just starting to turn grey at the temples. Unlike the others, he wore a black suit and tie, and kept tugging at the cuff of the black leather glove he wore on his left hand. Despite this little quirk, the man looked every bit the business man, officious and authoritative, used to getting his way. It was he who leaned over the control panel, pressed the intercom button, and spoke into the microphone that jutted up towards his chin.
"We've got one more surprise for you."
The businessman pressed a few more buttons, and all the lights in the room went out, including the one over the dark warrior. Somewhere nearby, a hidden door hissed open and closed. Something growled, doing its best to sound menacing. The dragon warrior just threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing eerily in the darkness.
…
Jackson Cole observed the dark warrior from the control room, watching the brief arcing flashes of metal that betrayed, if nothing else, the direction and location of the warrior's sword slashes. His expression was blank, characteristic of a man who usually kept his emotions concealed behind a mask of inflexibility. His only motion was the constant tugging of his glove, a subconscious reminder of his biggest mistake.
Like their employer, most of the men and women in the room displayed the same emotionless countenance, though for them it was representative of their level of focus. Their research today would prove invaluable in the future. The few that showed any emotion at all had looks that were a mixture of shock, horror, and awe plastered on their faces, some with mouths agape, some with hands over their mouths, and they clearly weren't worried about research at all.
"Mister Cole, we sent ten lupines into the room, and I'm only reading life signs from four of them," said one of the technicians seated at the control panel.
"His power levels are off the charts!" another exclaimed.
"Interesting," was Cole's reply. "Doctor Matthews, have you got a bead on his energy signature yet?"
The second technician's hands flew across the controls, bringing up several different displays on his screen. After a few moments, he shook his head. "No, sir. Even if he were moving slow enough that we could get an accurate reading on him, everything I've seen so far suggests that the type of energy that gives him his powers is unlike anything we've seen so far. You might as well say it's magic."
"Again, interesting," Cole said. "Can we reproduce it?"
"That remains to be seen," Doctor Matthews replied. "We're going to have a lot of data to analyze, and that could take a while."
"Very well, then, keep me posted on your progress." Cole allowed himself a rare smile. "Let me know when he's finished, will you? I'd like to have a word with him."
…