Chapter 4: Ice
"Damn it man! It's so cold out here I can barely feel my fingers," one of the two Agents complained.
The Red Zone always felt just that bit colder than the rest of Nevada, but today was strangely colder than normal. The facility was situated close to the edge of the Red Zone border, so keeping a lookout was all the two Agents had to worry about, but even that was proving a difficulty with the sudden snowfall limiting their vision and turning the temperature to freezing.
It had been warm and sunny only a few minutes ago.
"Keep your tits on, 927. They're doing more weather testing with some equipment or something. Snow, apparently. I told you to grab your gloves." the other retorted.
"Easy for you to say. You're getting promoted to Engineer soon enough." 927 fiddled with his shotgun; the cold made it hard for him to grip it properly. "You won't have to worry about this bullshit anymore."
The other checked over his MP5. "Sure. But that means I have to deal with what's inside these buildings."
927 dropped his Mossberg 500 in the snow, breathing into his hands. His partner growled at him.
"Hey! Pick your weapon back up! If we get attacked, you're gonna be defenseless!"
"Pfft, this is the Red Zone!" He shoved his hands inside his suit jackets pockets to warm them up. "No sane person would attack us here."
Before he could reply, 927's partner found himself looking the other way. For the split second he remained alive, he realized his head was violently turned 180 degrees.
927 stared out at the mountains. The cold steel of an MP5 pressed against his neck for his incompetence, while a strong arm snaked around his throat.
"You have two choices. One, you open the door for me, I knock you out, and leave your body somewhere nice and warm. Or two, you resist and you get to feel the burning embrace of death. Your choice."
927 nodded, taking out his keycard, and unlocking the door.
"T… There…"
"Good lad. Nighty night."
The world went dark after a brief, sharp pain on the back of the Agent's head. His assailant dragged his body around the corner, and propped him up next to the trash cans. Opening one that was marked 'Paper' and pulling out a lighter, he set the trash can alight, creating an area of warmth.
Returning and retrieving the stockless shotgun and discarding the MP5, the man looked up at the building.
"Well DJ, you got this far. Let's see what all this talk about new unit's is about."
"OI! BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE THINGS, THEY'RE EXPENSIVE!"
The two Agents lifting the large crates shot a death glare at their leading Engineer before going back to their task.
"James! We have a problem!" Another Engineer shouted over the radio.
The lead Engineer turned and went to the nearby computer console. He pulled open the chat system.
"What's the deal, Fredericks?"
"One of the new units got out and attacked the guards. We lost 9 men an-"
The lead Engineer took off his uniquely formed mask and looked at his equal in rank through the console. He rolled his eyes.
"What about the unit?"
"Dead, sir. One of the Grunts took an M203 to its head. Only the torso's left."
The Engineer turned the video feed to the disfigured, but very large remains of what appeared to be a large armored torso and legs. The blood pooled on the ground appeared to be a combination of crushed bodies and flesh.
"Damn it… Give the Grunt a promotion but remind staff that they are to subdue any escapees with NON-LETHAL force."
The Engineer on the other end saluted and killed the call. His superior sat back in the office chair and looked at his mask, frowning. The double-raised eyebrow formation instead of the single allowed for a slightly better view than the standard version.
"Auditor so help me, I will make this project work. I only hope doctor Jameson holds up his end of the deal… Then at least we can get one old project out of the way."
Donning his mask again and getting up, he pulled out his PDA and went back to investigating why the facilities files were so unorganised.
Having managed to get into the air vent, DJ moved through the metal passageway slowly. The shotgun on his back made it a tighter fit, but it was manageable.
He kept himself entertained by occasionally stopping to look through vent grates. A couple of 'non-standard' acts caught his attention. The facility's janitor practicing a very unique, but seemingly deadly combat style with his mop and an Engineer's private quarters filled with items of... questionable nature were to name a few.
Moving on from these strange occurrences, with a newfound fear of the janitor, he finally came across a ventilation shaft area that he could stand up to move in.
Looking down through the vent cover he found himself over a large containment area. It was almost chaotic with Grunts and Agents milling around moving and storing various items. Lining the walls of the containment room were large, transparent liquid filled tubes.
Taking a moment to look around, something caught his eye. Someone in a lab coat flanked by Soldats in discussion. He was too far away to hear the conversation, but he did see what they were perhaps talking about:
A massive and disfigured man was being loaded into a tube. Thick grey armor plates covered his body; they looked strong enough to brush off anything less than the highest caliber armor piercing shots.
Taking a notepad from his jacket, DJ noted down the features. His jaw dropped; a massive Automag V pistol was put in a crate next to the tube. It wasn't quite Mag Agent-sized, but it was definitely big enough to blast a tank.
A tinge of envy hit him.
Noting this down as well, he turned his attention back to the talking bunch below him… Only they weren't there anymore.
Panic struck him as his eyes darted all over the place. A slight hint of relief returned when he spotted one of the Soldats again. It vanished when he realized where he was aiming his FAL for.
The air vent.
The split-second DJ moved back was more than enough time for the Soldat to take the shot. DJ felt the bullet graze his shoulder, his scales shielding him from any serious damage.
He put the pad away, making a run for the exit. DJ got within inches of the outside air vent cover… before plunging through an open grate in the floor right into the break room.
The table had broken his fall as a good 10 Agents staring at him in disbelief at what had just happened. As well as Mop Master Janitor.
DJ looked up. He eyed up the Agents, then groaned when he saw the janitor.
"Damn it. Of all people it has to be you that I run into…"
DJ got up, cracking his shoulder back into place. One of the Agents rushed him with a kitchen knife, only to be uppercutted with such force that he ended up with half his body in the ceiling.
DJ took a proper fighting stance to deal with the Agents, preparing himself for a dogpile.
None moved or attacked however. DJ had lowered his guard slightly as he thought about why they weren't at least readying themselves for combat.
Big mistake.
A sharp prick in his back was shortly followed by a violent stream of electricity. His body spasmed, throat tightening and blocking his screams as his body seized up and refused to move.
"Well, well, well. This will look good on my report."
A second sting hit the back of his neck, only this time he recognized it as a needle. His body slowly begin to relax, strength fading as whatever foreign substance that was injected into him overwhelmed him.
"Just relax… everything will be okay…"
The voice grew softer as his vision faded. Hazy vision allowed him to observe himself being picked up and taken away.
"Fffffuuuuuuck..."
The few minutes between when he got captured and what he was subjected to now felt like hours. Before long, his vision began to slowly clear but he was still stuck in a paralyzed trance, unable to move anything except his eyes.
He had gotten a look at the people before him as he was strapped onto the table without his shirt on. The lead Engineer and the doctor were there. The doctor stepped forward, noticing DJ's vision had returned to him.
"Ah! You're awake, very good. Welcome to Facility Colossus... but you are already familiarized with its layout, no? Perhaps its original title will help you remember: Facility X."
Facility X. The name made DJ's stomach turn.
"Now, I know what you must be thinking. How can this be Facility X? Agent Haywood destroyed it years ago when he took you in." The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well, we rebuilt it see. Easier to rebuild on the foundations that existed. And much more cost effective."
The corners of his lips curled into a grin. "I am Doctor Derek Jameson. This is my project leader, James McLeary, although he goes by the title 573. Welcome to our facility. You're going to spend a lot of time here, son."
DJ's confusion reflected clearly enough in his eyes.
"Not that you would remember much, considering I wiped your memory long ago." He pulled a stool over and sat in front of DJ. "You must have noticed by now that my face seems vaguely familiar? I could never erase all your memories, some are simply too ingrained to do so. Where shall we start…? Ah, yes. "
Jameson leaned in closer with his incredibly smashable skull.
"How about six years ago, in that orphanage in New Zealand?"
"Okay, Mister and Missus Jameson. Just fill out these and the lad will be yours." The office clerk slid a few sheets of paper towards the young couple's way. "You have done him a very great service here. He has only been here a week."
Ko te pani pani a te tarakona; Dragon Egg Orphanage. The place had only opened a few weeks prior, but was already at full capacity. Thankfully, it was a more modern facility compared to others, what with the government sparing little expense dealing with the homeless more than ever that year.
"He's such a wonderful and bright boy. Not troublesome or harsh, mostly quiet." The clerk folded his hands. "Family history… well, that's another matter."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Jameson asked.
"When Drake was about nine years old there was… an incident."
He stood up and pulled out a file with Drake's photo on the cover, followed by an old newspaper clipping. "Murder" was the first word the couple saw on the print.
"Drake's father had been an outspoken advocate for the termination of all activities in New Zealand by the Agency Against Human Warfare. The killers were never found, but judging by his father's passionate stance against the head of the Agency, many had reason to believe they were responsible.
"In retrospect, that may have been the last straw for the Prime Minister to cut all ties with the organization." The clerk took a drink of his lukewarm coffee. "Not my place to talk about politics though, I suppose."
Wordlessly, Mrs. Jameson signed the papers, and handed them back. The clerk placed them down in a small container under the desk. He stood and opened the office door.
"This way, please."
He led them into the hallway, silent under the dead of the night. Then, the clerk stopped at a door on the right and opened it, allowing his two patrons to look inside.
The room was very clean, with even the walls remaining barren. A small bookshelf loaded with language books and a single copy of the Lord of The Rings novel was the only other piece of furniture apart from the bed.
"He only has a few things to take with him, given he doesn't want to keep the books. I hope you don't mind, but we couldn't take it from him no matter how hard we tried."
The clerk went over to the bed, where Drake was laying on his side, facing away from the door. As the Jamesons got a closer look, it became obvious what DJ had that concerned the the clerk.
An M993 from an M60.
Whereas Mrs. Jameson's expression turned grim, Mr. Jameson retained his composure. The clerk lightly tapped Drake on the shoulder.
"Drake? You've been adopted, kid. I told you that you were a lucky one."
Drake turned over to face Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, pocketing the large round. He maintained his line of sight on them as he sat up.
Even before he stood on his two feet, his unusual height was evident. Standing 5"8, many might even mistaken the teen for a rugby player.
Unwavered, Mr. Jameson brushed some of his dark brown hair out of his face. He pushed his teashade glasses up his nose, smiling.
"Come on, son. Let's go home."
Drake simply nodded, exiting the room before they did. The clerk sighed.
"He's like that around new people. I would advise you both to keep an eye on him, however. You will quickly see for yourselves as to why."
"We will be capable of whatever he throws our way." Mrs. Jameson said, following her husband out of the room. She gave him one last smile.
"I am sure of it."
"The moment we observed your behaviors, it became clear that you were perfect." Derek chuckled. "I am certain your caretaker must have thought of us as fools for our decision. But where others saw warnings, we saw opportunities."
DJ glared at him. If this was just some lunatic's ploy using some leaked details of DJ's past, then he certainly did his research.
"But of course, the more interesting story is how we got here today, with you like this..."
He motioned for James to bring his PDA over. Derek opened an old file full of video records. He opened one, bringing the projector screen in front of them to life. The scientist slouched on the stool, while DJ turned his attention to the screen.
"The day you appeared was the best day of my life, Anderson. I knew I made the right choice by finding you that night..."
"Derek, you're sure this'll work?"
"Calm down, Beth. We already ran the tests on the other 12 to make sure his will be a success."
"That may be so, Mr. Jameson. But your wife has a point. Should this fail, we lose the only subject for the next 2 years capable of becoming an Artificial Host without resorting to torture."
"Cain's methods are old and only rarely produce refined results. The brothers are a prime example of that. This will be the first raw success in creating someone physically altered by the Energy without causing Dissonant Reality."
"Still, it would be safer to implement Entropite into his body. It would reduce the risk of rejection…"
"And cause horrific mutations to form rapidly. No. He will develop the mutations over time. They will grow with his body so there will be no rejection. His body must be convinced that what is happening is natural."
"The Auditor wants progress Mr. Jameson. He wants results. While your actions are shown to be more refined, Cain's projects bare fruits much faster than yours."
"I am aware Pavel, but you know as well as I do that Cain's experiments drive the subject insane and uncontrollable 75% of the time. Pray the other 25% will not be uncovered by the public. We need a controllable subject and this is the best way to do it. Yes, it will take time, but rest assured we will produce the best goddamn super soldier this world has ever seen!"
"I wish I was as confident as you are in this project, Derek. Using someone so young is not ethical."
"I'm going by the standards set by our superiors, which, mind you, are pretty low. Besides, the younger the body, the easier the implementation. If this works, even Cain will be able to appreciate this work. In the long run, we can see him even absorbing raw or even pure Entropite with no ill effects, transferring it into much more powerful Energy."
"You sound like you wish to take Cain on with this experiment of yours."
"I do. The old man has been meddling with my projects for long enough. I will make a super soldier that will impress The Auditor, and so help me, he will see its importance. Better yet, the boy seems to be willing. We will look better in the eyes of the public, whereas Cain would be torn to shreds. Mark my words, we will change the world and do so with long-term support of the people. What's world domination without willing subjects, hm?"
"Regardless of how that Disjointed Power see's this child, remember that he will be used for our agenda, Mr. Jameson."
"Yes, yes. Come the end of the project, you will have this one, as I work on making one less powerful for the AAHW…"
"You think The Auditor will appreciate a more ethically produced result, hun?"
"If it makes it easier to take the world? Then as the kids these days say Beth: Fuck yes."
"Just be careful… He's still our son."
"I will. Don't worry, as experimental as this is, we will be a family regardless."
The video stopped. Derek put the PDA down and looked directly at DJ, the look on his face stern but somewhat soft.
"The day I lost you to those Antithesis terrorists, my heart was broken. I lost my funding, lost the trust of the contractors, and worse, I lost a son. I was shoved out here in this old facility to think on my mistakes and to produce lesser works of Cain's design. But now you're back and you have made much progress. I doubt I even need to infuse the Entropite I stole away from one of Cain's subjects… too bad you're no longer willing like you used to be."
DJ had gotten enough feeling back to speak. Though it had only been ten minutes since he woke up, it felt like days.
"I was only… willing because I didn't know… better."
He struggled against the bonds.. It was pointless; his body hadn't returned to full strength yet.
"Even so, look at how you have progressed. Tell me, how well would you have fared if I didn't do this to you?"
DJ was about to make a witty comeback when he remembered many times that his abilities had helped greatly. The Holochamber battle against Hydra, his first few missions from the outpost. All those times he got lonely and…
He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts; not the time to be thinking of those. Derek procured a rather large needle from the nearby tray.
"I unfortunately, will need to inject you with this. It is a special serum I produced, commonly referred to as "Berserker's Nectar" by my colleagues here. It should increase the level of your mutation faster and make you stronger."
He tapped the tip of the needle to clear the air out of it, making DJ shiver. The syringe itself was filled with a sparky black liquid that coursed with a deep purple shine occasionally in the light.
"The effects are temporary of course, and over time, the serum will adapt your body so you can control it. The first few times however, you will not be able to control your body and it will no doubt be quite painful. Despite my aversion to fast mutations, this will make your mutation adapt much quicker, turning months into minutes."
Derek safely pocketed the serum away. "We will be using Cain's new units to test this out. He always takes my things to test his projects on, so he can spare a few hundred of these monstrosities."
Derek got two Agents to transport the restrained DJ to an arena-like room nearby. Quite big and open like a warehouse, but it was littered with shell casings and blood stains everywhere, and a few half-mangled corpses. Derek grimaced.
"Looks like the last test group didn't clean up. Oh well, makes no difference."
He turned from the sight and held DJ still with his free hand as he readied the needle. DJ shouted at Derek as he closed in.
"For the love of all that is holy, get that damn needle away from me!"
Ignoring the aggressive shouts for mercy, Derek injected the liquid just below the collarbone. DJ's trypanophobia nearly made him bite a hole in his lip as he did his best to avoid crying out in pain. BN was almost immediate with its effect as the muscles in his body began to spasm.
The Agents released the bonds that held him, quickly escaping the room behind Derek. The ballistic glass a floor up gave them an unobstructed view of the arena as
DJ had fallen to the floor. His shirtless figure made the visibility of BN's effects instantaneous.
Scales began to rip across his back, shredding his epidermis as they appeared. His wails of pain were deafening as the scales then hardened and covered his naked flesh in their armored mass. One of the Agents ran towards a nearby trash bin, feeling bile rise up. The other continued to watch with Derek, their expressions almost stoic in nature.
By the minute mark, DJ's entire back was covered in the scales. His short talons had grown longer and sharper, the pitch black colour of his eyes turning into a deep, but vibrant crimson-red. Standing up made him realize his body was almost unrecognizable. What was once a fairly respectable figure had turned into something equivalent of six months' worth of vigorous weight training.
Derek smiled. He snapped his fingers.
"Send in the first unit."
The Engineer in the back complied, entering a command into the console before him. The console's screen blared red as two words appeared in full caps:
[INITIATE WAVE]
DJ turned to look at the large door. Beastial rage crossed his face in the form of a scowl, gritted teeth and a low growl personifying the rage. Given his more feral posture and heavy breathing after he rose from the pool of blood, he wasn't all there anymore. It seemed like he had just crawled out of a horror movie after killing not only the victims, but the killer as well.
The armored door opened with a metal screeching against concrete. Out walked a behemoth of a man, clad in the grey armor that DJ had seen before. He released a low growl at the large being, shifting his weight back in anticipation. The door behind the monstrocity closed like the maw of a beast. Two abominations stood before each other, ready to shed blood. Derek felt his lower jaw quiver.
The circumstances couldn't have been better.
A/N: Jesus that took longer than I expected. Considering I had most of this written out on paper and just had to add details to help it make sense, I'm surprised it took this long.
Well now, with that out of the way, I can get onto the final bits. This is a personal project for me as it delves into both back story and present time plotlines. DJ is a character that I have had many forms produced over time and honestly I feel that as a character he is a personification of myself more than he is just another character. Similar beliefs, similar morals, similar bad mouth, similar bad habits XP.
Anyway: OC credits
James McLeary: 37
927: Jack
I feel like I'm doing this every chapter but a special thanks to my good friend Spirit9871 for assisting me with beta-reading these chapters. You are honestly one of the best friends I could ask for as well as one of the best authors I know currently. I don't think that I would have gotten as far as I have, despite how far I still have to go, without you. So thank you for the support and assistance you have given me.
As for everyone else, your views are what count most, although reviews are pretty nifty too. Thank you to everyone who keeps sticking around to see these updates despite my inactive ass being very frugal with these updates.
Peace out sheeple.
~TDMD