Well, upon the suggestion of Blackholelord, I've rewritten this chapter in order to try and make it better than it was before. I hope you like it.
Again, I want to point out that this story WILL start off a bit slow, but I promise that it WILL ALSO pick up soon. So please, all I ask of you, my fellow readers, is to be patient and enjoy the story.
Author's Note: I DO NOT OWN MASS EFFECT! It is Bioware's property.
And now, let's begin...
Prologue, Pt. 1: Out of the Frying Pan
The sound of a rocking explosion woke me from my slumber, albeit reluctantly. A blinding white light hit me as I opened my eyes, causing me to close them instinctively.
"Atlas. Atlas, are ya awake?"
The voice on the intercom was female, and she sounded honestly concerned. Hell, worried more like.
As my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I found myself in what appeared to be a laboratory, filled with operating equipment and God knows how much tech. I sluggishly got up from what I now saw to be an operating table when I found an IV in my arm. I slowly removed it, which caused me great discomfort.
"Atlas, if ya can hear me, press the blue button by the door."
Upon hearing this, I looked around for a door, then headed over to a keypad built into a scanner. As my thumb pressed down, a high-pitched beeping filled the room, which caused me to wince in pain. Obviously I had yet to adjust my senses.
The voice sighed in relief. "Oh, thank the maker. I thought they'd finally got t' ya. Okay Atlas, listen up because I'm not repeatin' myself. There's some armor I had specifically designed for ya. Head to the locker on the other side of the room an' put it on. I'll try t' buy you some time. When yer fully suited up, press th' button again"
As I groggily walked to the locker, I took the time to realize that the voice had an accent to it. It was European, possibly Scottish. I couldn't tell due to a) the distortion the intercom was creating and b) my senses were still out of whack. What I could tell was one thing: from the way she was speaking to me, coupled with the rumbling that woke me up, she was obviously in danger. Which meant I was also in danger.
At this realization, I quickened my pace and opened the locker. Inside my sight was immediately drawn to a golden helmet, with the eye holes holding tinted glass. For some reason, there was no mouthpiece. The rest of the armor was white, with light blue accents tracing the armor. In the middle section of the chest plate was a vibrant gold stripe curving downwards from the top, along with the gauntlets and boots. After 30 minutes of struggling to get the armor on properly, I noticed two unusual items in the locker.
The first item I took out was a golden metallic rod about 14 inches long with a small blue switch on the side. I shrugged and placed it in a narrow compartment on my right thigh, obviously designed to hold the rod. After taking out the second item, I noticed that it was a golden disc about 18 inches in diameter, with a high tech glove-like device attached to it. I placed it on my left arm, and found something that put a light in my eyes and a grin on my face: a freaking grenade launcher, complete with additional ammo. I immediately noticed that the launcher was golden, with white lines accentuating the bad-ass weapon.
Geez, I thought, someone really likes the color gold. Oh well, at least I have something to shoot with.
After I placed the ammo into the heavy launcher, I pressed the blue button again. This earned me another cringe worthy beep. 'Okay, maybe my senses were heightened. That would definitely explain why that STILL FREAKING HURTS!'
"Well you sure took yer sweet time! Look, I don' have a lot o' time, so I'll have t' give you th' short story. Yer in a secret research facility, strictly of th' books. You can tell by th' rumblin' however, that we've been discovered, possibly by an enemy of ours. This person had someone hack into our defense network an' made the security drones go bloody bonkers, shootin' anything that has a pulse."
As I heard this, my eyes went wide with shock. These people were being attacked. By fucking robots. 'God, what is this, the world of Terminator?!…actually, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.'
"Now," she said, "it wouldn't be fair t' throw you out there with jack shit of a clue on what t' do, so I'll explain th' items that no doubt confused you. Th' rod's an experimental energy sword, capable of cutting through kinetic barriers like a hot knife through butter. Th' discus on yer arm's also experimental tech, a cyclonic energy shield. Theoretically, it should be able t' take a Mass Accelerator round from a dreadnought an' still maintain integrity."
At that point, I was officially weirded out. 'WHY in the WORLD would I need a freaking sword and shield against freaking ROBOTS?! Granted, these tools do sound completely and totally bad-ass, but you get my point.'
"Also, th' pistol an' grenade launcher pack one helluva wallop, so be sure t' have a good grip, an' use both o' yer hands when holding 'em. Unless, o' course, you like havin' dislocated shoulders," she said with a playfully sarcastic tone.
'Wait a minute, did she say pistol?'
I turned around and looked in the locker again. There wasn't a handgun to be found anywhere. If she still thought the gun was here, that meant someone took it from the locker...before the attack started.
'Great. Just. Fucking! GREAT! Now someone is running around with a super-powered pistol with possibly no idea how powerful the recoil is. Even worse, this person could be the one who started the attack, and he/she does know how to use it.'
"Th' door should be open now, so follow th' glowin' arrows, they'll lead ya right t' th' hangar so we can git th' fuck outta here. Also, press th' button on th' right side a' yer helmet, it'll activate yer scanners and HUD. Wouldn't wanna walk into a fight blind, would ya? Good luck, Atlas. Kerry out!"
'So, her name's Kerry, huh. I wonder if her face is as cute as her voice. If so, I just know I'm gonna be stuttering around her like-'
*BOOM*
The sudden explosion rocked the entire room, snapping me out of my train of thought. 'Right. Focus, Atlas, focus...I really hope that's just a codename, even if it's really cool sounding.'
As I holstered the launcher on my back and stepped outside the lab, I pressed the button on the helmet, allowing my HUD to appear in the bottom right corner of my vision and a display for my shield energy to appear on the top. As I walked down a hallway, a thought suddenly hit me:
'I don't remember my own name. I don't remember anything about my life before today, except for vague images and clear bits and pieces.'
I came to the end of the hallway, and immediately heard noises from the other side of the door. My HUD displayed two blue dots and a lot of red dots. Clearly not a good sign. I walked through, and was greeted with a sight that didn't surprise me at all: a firefight.
In a rather large lobby, I found two guys huddled behind a chest high wall as a group of security robots emptied their clips at them. The mechs, stark white with a singular red "eye," were so focused on the two behind the wall that they didn't even notice my arrival.
Backing away slowly, I closed the door as I let out a huge breath. "Yeeeaaaaaahhh, fuck that. No way am I going out there and living."
As soon as I said that, I took cover behind the entrance and unhooked the rod.
Holding both ends away from me just in case, I pressed the switch and the top of the left side split perfectly in half, instantly creating a beam of sky blue energy in the shape of a double-edged blade. This made me jump back a bit from shock, which quickly dissolved into a fan boyish excitement, with the grin to match. 'Oh, man. This is bitchiiiiing!'
My moment was ruined, however, as the mech charged me, causing me to stumble back a bit and swing the sword at it. I managed to graze its face a bit, though I think that only made it madder. It lunged at me, causing me to fall back and narrowly miss having my head taken off.
Acting on my newly-discovered "Fight or Flight" instincts, I thrust the sword forward and pierced the mech's chest. Sputtering and twitching, I slowly reached for my head before I pulled out, causing it to fall to the floor. For good measure, I swung the laser blade down and cut the synthetic's head clean off. In a brief shower of sparks, the mech was now offline for good.
I was breathing heavily at that point, the adrenaline pumping through me now beginning to dissipate. Looking down at the sword, it hit me that this thing was able to kill the mech with no trouble. I then wondered what
I then closed the gloved hand slowly, from pinkie finger to thumb. After making a fist, the disc hummed to life and split apart, energy expanding to create a shield that reminded me of a Gungan energy shield, except the top was straight, the bottom was pointed, and the energy was the color blue instead of purple.
'Yeah, okay, I think I'm starting to like this stuff.'
Breathing returning to normal, I began to plan things out. I figured that if a n00b like me could wreck a mech like that with little problem- especially since I had some top of the line equipment- I probably had a chance to help those two. I just needed the right moment.
*BOOM*
An explosion rocked the next room, causing me to stumble a bit and accidentally open the door. I was greeted with the sight of a bunch of mechs laying in pieces thanks to an explosive device, the others either blown back or dazed.
'Well, now's as good a time as any, I guess. HERE GOES NOTHING!'
Taking full advantage of this opportunity, I leaped out from behind the door, charged toward the mechs and screamed at the top of my lungs a battle cry that came from a sudden flash from my past. A battle cry from a television show that just seemed to fit this moment oh so well.
"BOOYAKASHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
At that point, the mechs turned towards me, but it was too late. I slammed the shield across the closest one's face area, stunning it long enough for me to drop my blade right into its metallic head, splitting it open like a watermelon. A shot then grazed past my head, which forced me to spin my shield around and put myself on the defense. This, however, bought the other two guys the chance to open fire on the rest of the bots.
Quickly noticing one of the mechs aiming a sniper rifle in the general direction of the two, I thought fast and threw my sword right at its face, quickly ending the would-be sniper. I immediately started running to reclaim the blade when another mech droped in front of me. This one seemed a bit bulkier compared to the other mechs, and was differently colored from the other mechs, which were mostly black with patches of white and yellow stripes. Its most defining feature was on its face, having four "eyes" instead of one.
Unfortunately, I learned it was also faster, as it quickly took out a shot gun and closed the distance between us instantly. I shielded myself from the widespread shots, but the robot immediately generated an orange energy blade from its arm and lunged at my stomach.
I barely managed to dodge it, though it managed to make a small cut in my right side. Rolling aside, I sprinted toward the mech with my sword in its head as fast as my legs could go. I heard the advanced mech gaining on me, and I quickly lunged forward and wretched the blade out, with barely enough time to turn around to face the killing machine. After another brief flash of memories, I then stepped forward and proceeded to turn its head into a scrap iron shish kabob.
As I breathed heavily, I let the defeated robot fall to the floor beside me. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, I burst out as big of a whoop as my vocal cords would allow and fist pumped the air. Before I fell flat on my ass, due to losing balance. As I got back up on my feet, I realized that I was not alone.
I slowly turned my head to the left and found the two guys I saved, most likely staring in awe at what I had done and humor at my sudden fall. As one of them stepped forward, I quickly straightened up in embarrassment and took a good look at him. The man wore a black trench coat over black armor with a skeletal design on the chest plate. His leather mask, covered by a black hood, was patterned to look like a skull, with red lights glaring from the eye holes.
'Okay, if this guy is trying to pull of a Grim Reaper look, then all he's missing is a-'
He then pulled a large energy scythe out of one of the metallic corpses, earning a chuckle from me. 'Oh man, this is hilarious.'
"Okay," said the man I decided to label 'Reaper,' "that had to have been one of the most bad-ass, close combat kill I've ever seen." His voice was stern, yet compassionate. From his accent, I assumed he was from the Middle East. "Where did you learn that?"
The other man, clad in black with grey gauntlets, boots, and a big orange X on his chest walked up to his partner. He wore a mask that looked like a cross between an Army of TWO helmet and Deathstroke's mask. Strapped to his back was an actual broadsword and an assault rifle, holstered to his side was an SMG, and he had a leather pouch that held a bunch of grenades.
"Are you kidding me? He pulled that move straight out of Attack the Block! Granted, it was still a bitching kill, but still! I will give you props for it though, totally bad-ass. However, you would have been seriously fucked if you missed that Rampart mech's head."
"My God, Deadpool. Please. Try not to psyche him out when we're trying to escape here alive!" exclaimed 'Reaper' annoyingly. At that, Deadpool instantly fell silent. Apparently, 'Reaper' was the one who was in charge of the duo. "Sorry about my partner, he just doesn't know when to just shut his pie hole."
I nodded my head in agreement. Something told me that I would disturbingly get used to this guy's nonstop chatter if I hung around him long enough. Either that or snap and put his decapitated head on a spike.
"No problem," I said. "I'm just glad that I was able to save you guys. Who are you, anyway?"
Deadpool immediately lightened up and said in a jovial manner "We, my good sir, are two highly famous mercenaries. We are strictly moral driven, meaning we don't take on jobs that conflict with our morals. This includes wanton killing, torture, protecting corrupt people, using biological weapons, murdering innocent people, and/or hate crimes. Anyone has a problem with that, we slice of their limbs and feed them to a varren. If the job we take on is for a noble cause, we work for free. Which is what lead me and my friend to this job."
Before they could say anything, I saw one of the walls open up, revealing an enormous mech, easily twice, maybe three times bigger than the other mechs. It raised its arms, both being cannons, and took aim at 'Reaper' and Deadpool.
"LOOK OUT!"
As my cry rang out in the room, I pushed the two away and charged toward the heavy mech. I didn't have a plan to deal with the thing. I didn't know what to do. I simply focused on the mech, my only thoughts being that I was going to beat the living shit out of it.
Suddenly, I was surrounded with a brilliant golden light, and I lunged forward, the world flashing before my eyes. I suddenly crashed through 8 walls, which stopped my trajectory with an impact on the ninth wall and slide down, earning an audible grunt. As I opened my eyes, I looked straight at the mech and immediately noticed my handiwork. My handiwork being a big fucking hole where its chest used to be, followed with gaps where walls once stood. With a loud creaking, the mech fell dead to the floor.
I then limped back to where the Angels of Ruin stood, completely dumbstruck at my performance. 'Reaper' was the first to speak up. "How did you- that was- you just- and the- I don't-"
"You just tore through a YMIR mech and eight fucking walls!" cried out Deadpool. "Plus, your biotics were golden! Just WHO the FUCK are you?!"
I smiled weakly and answered "I go by the name Atlas." Glancing at the carnage in my wake, I continued "As for the damage, that was uber bad-ass. And my what is golden? What are you talking about?"
Tilting their heads in confusion, I can tell the two are looking at me like I'm an idiot. "Your biotics?" answered Deadpool. "You know, the ability to influence dark energy with your fucking mind?"
Now it was my turn to look at him like he's the idiot. Granted, he seemed to act like one, but still. Biotics only exist in-
'...No. It can't be. Could it?'
"Hellooooo? Anyone there?"
"Reaper's" words immediately shook me out of my stupor.
"Sorry, I, uh, zoned out for a second. Could you repeat that, um...I'm sorry, but what's your name?"
That earned another groan from him. "My name's Malak. While on the job, however, if you want to call me anything, call me Azrael. Now, as I was asking, I don't suppose you can explain what's going on, could you?"
I shook my head, replying "All I know is that someone hacked into this facility's security network and made the robo-mall cops here go bonkers. Other than that, I don't know much else. Hell, I don't even know where this place is."
Malak stroked his chin in contemplation, then looked at me. "In that case," he said, "you should probably stay close to us, seeing as we know our way around here. Do you have anything else to tell us?"
"Yeah, there was this girl, Kerry. When I woke up, she told me to head to the hangar to get out of here."
At hearing that, Deadpool spoke up in a serious tone. "Kerry? She's still alive?"
I nodded. "Alive, and somewhere in this place fighting off the mechs."
Deadpool then turned to Malak and jovially exclaims "HA! That's my girl! You owe me a drink, my friend!"
Malak shook his head in exasperation. "Yeah yeah, whatever. I swear, I don't even know why I make these bets with you."
"Because you're a glutton for punishment?"
...
...
...
...
"...Not the balls."
*THWACK*
"OW! Thank you," he groaned, clutching the back of his head in pain. I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about this.
'If this is who I have to work with, I don't know if I'll be able to survive.'
I coughed a little, bringing their attention to me. "So, um, maybe we ought to find a way out of here. As well as try and find this Kerry person."
"Last I heard she was somewhere in Block 3. Fortunately, it's on the way to the hangar, so we can kill two birds with one stone."
"Well what are we standing around for?" I exclaimed, "let's go!"
After I raised my shield and primed my sword, I ran off to the closest doorway. A few seconds later, I sheepishly walked back. "Um, where exactly is Block 3?"
One face-palm later, Malak motioned us to follow him. Before we could move even ten steps, a lift came up from the ground, bringing a trio rampart mechs and a YMIR mech up top. The synthetics primed their weapons at the sight of us, leaving me to say only one thing:
"Meep."
Before the first shot rang out, we scattered and ducked for cover.
After flexing my left hand's fingers in reverse order, the shield deactivated. I then turned off my sword, allowing me to unlatch the grenade launcher and have it primed and ready by the time the YMIR mech is halfway next to me. I leaped out from cover, took aim, and pulled the trigger.
KABOOOOOOM!
The aftershock sent me flying across the room, resulting with a painful impact with a wall rushing to greet me. With a painful thud, I hit the floor. "Oooowww. Sonuva-"
As the blinding light from explosion dies down, I look at where the heavy mech once stood. My only thought at the sight was:
'HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS H. TAP DANCING CHRIST!'
The colossal robot's upper half was completely incinerated, the only traces of its torso being smoldering scraps of metal laying around its scorched legs. The heat from the explosion was so intense that there was not only scorch marks on the floor five feet wide in radius, but there was still residual heat lingering in the air.
With a look of awe from the sheer power of the heavy weapon, I silently decided to christen my grenade launcher Morning Glory. It had a nice ring to it.
My joy was cut short as a rampart mech arose next to me. I tried to reach for my sword, but my shoulder experienced a sudden jab of pain, refusing to move. I then mentally kicked myself in the ass as I remembered Kerry's warning: USE BOTH HANDS WHEN USING THE GRENADE LAUCNHER.
Malak's POV:
As I recovered from the sudden explosion, I groggily allowed myself a rare moment to curse. "What the fuck was that?!" I then remembered Atlas raising what looked like a golden grenade launcher at the YMIR. I then mentally strangled the gold and white armored warrior.
'This is why I hate explosives, launch able or otherw-'
My train of thought was cut short as I looked up and saw a rampart mech standing over Atlas, priming its shotgun.
"Oh crap."
With this, I jumped up and unlatched the four foot long metal pole from my back and press down on a button. The rod quickly extended to 10 feet, with a curved, sickly pale blue blade generating from the side on the top. With Soul Breaker fully activated, I used a biotic Charge and launched myself at the rampart. As I leaped upward, I twirled my scythe around a few times before bringing the blade down to its neck.
I watched with grim satisfaction as the mech's head rolled to the floor. It was always fun to kill machines that couldn't think for themselves. However, this left me open long enough to allow a sudden burst of heat from the mech's body to overload my shields. 'Well,' I thought, 'isn't this peachy?'
Looking down at Atlas, I reach down to help him up. "You need a hand, my frie-"
A sudden pain sears through me. As I numbly look down, I see an Omni-blade protruding from my guts. Retracting from my body, I fall in pain to the floor. I look up and somehow know that I am finished, as the last two ramparts stand above me, one pointing a shotgun at my head.
I close my eyes, ready for the end.
Deadpool's POV:
There are times when I'm totally awestruck by how completely bad-ass Malak can be. His insta-kill on the rampart? Latest in a long line of moments.
Then there are times when I'm cruelly reminded that the man is mortal, just like the rest of us. The mechs getting ready to kill him were not helping me deal with that fact.
With the complete and utter destruction of the mechs filling my mind, my biotics flared up as I formed a lasso around the bots and pulled them towards me. The mech with the shotgun managed to pull the trigger before getting drawn backwards, but thankfully missed both Malak and Atlas.
Drawing my broadsword, I send my biotics surging through the blade, swinging the cleaving weapon to their heads with extreme prejudice.
"BAAANZAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIII!"
The mechs reduced to smoldering scrap, I re-sheathed my sword while walking towards my two comrades.
'No one's going to kill my partner. Not while I'm around.'
Atlas' POV:
I watched in awe as Deadpool walked over to us like he didn't just epically kill two rampart mechs. What really surprised me was that both he and Malak could both use the same powers I could, albeit their's were blue rather than my gold
"You two...are so...BAD-ASS! That was arguably the most awesome thing I've seen in my amnesiac life!"
Deadpool looks up at this while applying medi-gel to Malak's wounds. "You're amnesiac?"
Scratching the back of my head, I replied "Yeah, I can't remember a whole lot from before I woke up in that lab."
Malak groaned. "Well, that's just fan-tucking-fastic. The guy we were hired to protect, and he doesn't even have any idea why he would need protection."
Even though he couldn't tell with the tinted eye holes, I was giving Malak the stink-eye. "You don't need to be such a dick about it man. I'm already hurting enough from shooting Morning Glory one-handed, I don't need you to make me feel worse."
At that, Malak looked down in shame. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get crabby. I lost quite a bit of blood from that stab wound."
The pool of blood at his feet confirmed his apology as genuine. "Hey, it's okay, man. To be honest, though, I thought girls got bitchy when they bled."
The room was filled with silence for 5 seconds. Then 10. After 15 seconds, we can't hold it in any longer and we laugh our asses off for a good 3 minutes. After getting our breath back (and after Deadpool applied another patch of medi-gel to Malak's wounds) and relocating my shoulder back to its proper spot, we set out again for Lab 15.
After 7 minutes of silence, I couldn't take it anymore. "Hey Ma- Azrael? I hate to be rude, but why do you use a scythe?"
He turned around and looked at me. "Because guns scare the shit out of me," he replied with a deadpanned answer.
Grinning like an idiot, I said "I guess Morning Glory didn't help to disprove your fears, huh?"
"Damn straight."
At that point, both Deadpool and myself broke out with laughter. Regaining my composure, I turned to Deadpool and asked "If you don't mind answering, what's your real name?"
He answered jovially "My name's Joseph Bronson, but everyone calls me Bronson."
I smirked a bit. "Good to know."
A shot grazed past my head, causing me to charge up my sword and shield in response. After Bronson took out his assault rifle and Malak activated his biotics, someone came out from behind a barricade.
"Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's me!"
The source of the Spanish accent came into our field of vision immediately after. He looked to be in his early 20's, with slicked back blond hair and a skin tone comparable to a surfer's complexion. The only visible flaw to be shown was a scar across his left eye. As he walked up to me, I noticed he was shorter than me, and I could remember that I was at least 5-foot-10.
"Dammit, Carlisle!" screamed Malak, "You could have killed him!"
"I'm sorry! I thought you were another pack of mechs. They've been coming here every other half-hour."
Believing we were safe, I put away my sword and said "It's cool, man. Just...try to look before you shoot next time. I only have one head."
"Duly noted."
Walking into the makeshift fort, Bronson asked "How are you guys doing?"
An large, older man, possibly in his forties, walks up to us. "Not so good, comrade. Only having one working gun and no grenades, we being lucky robots haven't be putting new holes in all our faces."
Okay, I hate playing into stereotypes, but at the moment, I'm going to assume the man speaking broken English is Anton.
"What do you mean by all, Anton?"
'Wow, I was right?'
Hearing this, a girl no older than 16, with silver hair, a snow-white complexion, and ice blue eyes limps over to us. From the look on her face, she seemed ready to just break down. "What my father means is that soon after Carlisle contacted you, another wave of mechs hit us. We used up all of our grenades on them, and we had to use two of our three guns as makeshift explosives. Before that, though, Rufus and Donald ran out to buy us time. They're...they-"
She did her best to hold back her tears, but it was in vain. Malak walked over and held her close. "I'm sorry, Alice. I'm so, so sorry." He sounded like he was close to the verge of tears, too, his trembling a tell-tale sign of the rage he felt against himself.
"I loved them, Malak. I loved them so much. I-I-"
"I know."
Nothing was left to hold back her sorrow. She just collapsed and cried, not caring who heard. The cry of someone who had their heart torn out. A cry of despair.
I looked around outside the fort and saw them. Two men, laying dead next to the remains of a rampart mech. The closer one, whose name tag read Rufus, looked to be about 25, with close cropped, bright orange hair, and a goatee to match. Judging from the way the mechs around him were wrecked and his bulging muscles, he had used his strength to tear the rogue robots apart before he succumbed to numerous gunshot wounds.
The other one, who I deduced to be Donald, looked to be of African-American descent, about 20 years old and had a small afro. He held in his hand a sharpened pipe, which he used to impale the mech's head as it had impaled him with on Omni-blade.
These two fallen warriors gave their lives to save the others. I may not have known them, but I will always remember that they died as heroes to protect their friends. To protect the woman who loved them.
Walking back inside, Bronson introduced me to everyone. "Well, you know Carlisle Ramirez, our second-in-command for this outfit. And you've just met Dr. Komarov and his daughter, Alice." Looking at her now, she seemed to have calmed down a bit. I couldn't help but feel her pain.
These three scientists, along with myself, Bronson, Malak, and possibly Kerry, were most likely the last survivors of this facility. As I turned around towards Carlisle, I noticed something about the gun in his hand.
"Let me see that gun, Mr. Ramirez."
He looked up at me, a glint of fear in his eyes. "What?"
I jaunted over to him and grabbed the gun out of his hand. It looked like a Desert Eagle .50 semi-automatic pistol, complete with a clip of 6 out of 7 bullets, the other bullet most likely being the one that grazed my head. The gun was colored gold, with light blue coloring the handle.
The final nail in the coffin was a symbol on the butt of the handle: a winged shield with a sun on it. The same symbol I found on the rest of my equipment.
I looked at the shivering Spaniard with a look of anger so fierce that it could probably make even Leroy Jethro Gibbs nod his head in approval. "Where did you get this gun?" I asked with hatred seething from my voice.
"Wh-what d-d-do you m-mean?"
I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him to the wall. "WHERE?!"
At that, the room went silent. After 30 seconds of silence, I raised my gun at him and his eyes widened in terror. "Okay okay! I got it from your locker!"
"And exactly why did you take it?" I growled out. "I could've had a hell of an easier time fighting those mechs with this gun. Unless...you were hoping I wouldn't be able to fight them, perhaps? That I'd die trying to get out of wherever the hell I am?"
Bronson calmly walked up to us, his hand resting on his gun. "Carlisle," he began, "you better pray he's not saying what I think he's saying."
A few seconds later, he began chuckling. A chuckling that soon became full blown laughter. Laughter filled with madness.
"YOU MONSTER! YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" Alice tried to grab for Carlisle's neck, but Bronson held her back. Everyone began to act up. Anton screamed in his native tongue at the admitted murderer. It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from letting go and joining her. Malak simply stood there in cold fury.
"So what if I'm a monster?" Carlisle asked, a cold smirk on his face. "I just tried to stop you all from making a huge mistake. You all think that you were trying to save an innocent life by fixing him up?" he continued, gesturing at me as he finished. "No. I was trying to end a real monster. I never even would've known about the shit he did, if it wasn't for-"
*BANG*
A shot rung out, followed by a splatter of blood erupting from the back of Carlisle's worthless skull.
We all turned towards the source of the shot. In the doorway was a woman in her late 20's holding a pistol. She wore a set of black and gold armor (sans the helmet), which hugged her curves in a flattering manner. Her skin, the color of milk-chocolate, coupled with ruby-red irises (with a scar running across her left eye), seemed to radiate with unbridled fury. Her short cut, wild silver hair and snarling, silver lipstick-coated lips only helped to give her an air of anger.
"I'm sorry, Atlas. But the bastard deserved ta die fer what he did, and ya know it."
It was her accent that softened me up a bit. "You must be Kerry, I presume?"
At this she calmed down a bit. "Operative Kerry Lawson o' Cerberus, at yer service."
Upon hearing those words, my eyes widened as I recalled several things:
Biotics.
Cyclonic Energy.
YMIR mechs.
Mass Accelerator rounds.
Cerberus.
My suspicions were confirmed: I was in the world of Mass Effect. And smack dab in the middle of a human supremacist, terrorist facility.
'Fuck my life.'
How's that for a first chapter?
Looks like things are starting to get interesting. With the knowledge that someone was specifically trying to kill him, the fact that he's in a Cerberus facility, and more specifically, he is in the world of Mass Effect, how will the mysterious Atlas react?
And when will he discover who he really is, and what he is supposed to do?
Anyway, please note that I do not own anything from Attack the Block, Army of TWO, or Mass Effect. I especially don't own the DC Comics character Deathstroke or Marvel's Deadpool. The only things I own are the original characters Reaper, Deadpool, and Kerry, as well as the armor designs and weapons my characters possess.
Please comment or review, but no flames. OR ELSE!
Also, kudos to anyone who can guess from where I pulled Booyakasha from (please note that I do not own anything from that show either).
