((I'm really proud of this chapter.^^ I like the way it turned out. Sorry I haven't been posting as often as I should, I just want to get as much of the story done as I can, if not the whole thing, before I start updating regularly.))

Azure eyes fluttered open, and Cain found his vision blurred and foggy as he looked around. There were hundreds of glowing red and green lights and computer screens, all displaying data he could not read from this distance. He shifted, finding he was in some sort of cylindrical tank filled with water, standing upright from the floor to the ceiling... And it came rushing back to his awakening mind. The cryo-stasis tank in the underground laboratory beneath the bustling streets of Berlin, which was part of the UN's classified operations. He'd seen it when they first brought him here, and hadn't found out fast enough what they planned to put inside before they knocked him out and forced him in.

Now, the question was, how long had he been there? For all he knew, it could have been years, as every little motion ached like he hadn't used his muscles in ages. His palms met the perfectly transparent surface of the glass, and he squinted, trying to clear his vision, and attempted to swallow, only to find that the mouth piece had a long tube that had been inserted directly into his trachea. He gagged and struggled, banging on the glass to try to get someone's attention, but no one was there. He panicked, hammering his fists continually against the hard, thick glass, scrabbling at it with his nails, then ham-mering at it again, but simple human strength would not be enough... Inside, he felt something stir, like an enormous, swarthy beast that had come to devour him. The blackness spread like a fog through him, to his arms and legs, and his muscles surged with a power he had never known before. This time, the glass groaned as he struck it, a crack flashing across the surface, growing with each passing second, and each strike of his balled fist. A trail of minuscule, silver bubbles signified the tank was leaking.

A final, powerful blow sent the glass shattering, the water spilling onto the dark, tiled floor, and Cain's fingers clumsily scrabbled at the mouthpiece, pulling on it as hard as he could. He choked and retched so hard his stomach began to ache as the slender tube was dislodged from his throat, and he collapsed on jelly-like legs at the base of the tank, coughing.

When the cough had subsided, his lungs finally drawing the air properly, which was so very different from the nearly pure oxygen he had been given in the tank, he gingerly lowered a leg onto the black floor below. Carefully, he used the wickedly sharp edge of the glass to steady himself, and leaned to swing his remaining leg over the side. His foot slipped out from beneath him on the soaked tile, and he fell, shredding his leg and hand on the broken glass, falling into the puddle below, howling in pain. The shards on the floor were unkind to his bare flesh, and the ungodly cold of the laboratory and the tile combined made the pain nearly unbearable.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he lay there, in a pool of blood, glass, and water, calling for his siblings, for Lilith, for anyone to come to him, but no one was there to ease the pain, and no one was there to hear his screams. Forced to lay completely still, he swept sopping blond locks from his eyes with his uninjured hand, and his eyes scanned the little bit of the room that he could see. What did Krusnik 01 mean? It was right there, on the screen below the broken tank. It said "Experimentation on Krusnik 01 terminated." Is that what they called him now? Not Cain Nightroad, but Krusnik 01, like he was a simple lab animal to be labeled and numbered, set on a shelf with countless others of worthless value. Cain frowned, realizing what Abel must have been feeling. What gave them the right to do what they did to him? He was human just like they were! ...Right?

Slowly, he rolled over onto his stomach, grinding his teeth, and forced himself to his feet so he could get a better look at the screen. Strangely enough... He felt no pain as he strained himself... Beneath the blood on his hand there was no wound now, and his inner thigh was just as intact as it had been before he had fallen. Oh, lord... What had they done to him?!

Shivering with the cold, Cain tapped the keys, allowing him to access the file labeled "Experiment Krusnik 01" It asked for his name, so he typed it, and, lucky for him, it accepted his name and the file opened. Inside was countless numbers of additional files about him, Abel, Lilith, Seth, this lab, and something called the "Red Mars Project." He clicked on his own file, finding a picture of himself staring back at him, a shining smile on his face, his current age of fourteen as of... Well, that must be today's date (meaning he couldn't have been in that tank more than a month and a half), his height, weight, hair color, eye color, and a calendar with the past month that he had spent inside the tank outlined on it.

Deciding to start with the day he was placed inside the tank, he read through all the notes, finding only a few things of interest here and there, such as the testing on his genetics and the influencing of certain dominant genes to make him more resilient. They had taken notes on everything, and it was here that he discovered that the genetic alteration made him more resistant to injury and sickness, though if he was injured or sick, he would recover in a matter of minutes, to a few hours, or as long as a few days depending on his condition. Cain was deeply interested in what they were doing to him, so he continued only to be saddened by the very little information presented. Until he reached two weeks prior to today.

Creation of a "Krusnik"

by Dr. Daniel Putzkammer

"Oh... God..." Cain clapped a hand over his mouth, blue eyes wide as he found himself staring at a photograph of a corpse, though whether it was male or female was difficult to determine with the state it was in: it was mangled horribly, flesh falling off of bone as if it had started to decompose at an alarming rate, blood turning the alabaster sheets of the hospital gurney a ruddy shade. Leather straps kept the corpse fixed tightly to the table, cutting into the deteriorating flesh. Immediately, Cain began to scan the text on the screen:

All experiments with the nanomachines have ended in failure. All subjects with the nanomachines introduced intravenously suffered from extreme aggression, followed shortly by insanity, internal hemorrhaging, and death by either suicide or blood loss. The case shown here was particularly unique; the subject reacted violently and showed an increase in speed, strength, and shortened reflex, but the nanomachines seem to function as a living organism, attacking the subject's defenseless immune system. His death came two days after injection.

He scrolled down, finding more text, and continued to read:

Recent experiments on subjects Cain Nightroad, Abel Nightroad, Seth Nightroad, and Lilith Sahl have lead us to believe that, because of their enhanced genetics, their bodies will hold up to the introduction of the nanomachines, and experimentation will begin at once. We will be receiving Cain next week.

Then, there was another entry, from yesterday:

Experiment Krusnik 01 successful. He has shown a remarkable increase in sensory and motor skills, and his physical abilities have heightened one hundred percent. The other three have been given different levels of nanomachines, subject Krusnik 02 the most, and it seems the physical increase in power is completely dependent on the amount injected into the bloodstream. We have had to increase the sedative doses to five times the normal amount in subject Krusnik 01, as the nanomachines have become increasingly efficient at removing foreign substances from his body and increased the healing process. Further experimentation may yield disastrous results, as those back in London have already had a rather horrific incident with Krusnik 02, resulting in the deaths of three men. Further experiments have been terminated, and Krusnik 01 will be monitored for the next few days.

Well, that hardly explained why they weren't here now. But perhaps he was still being watched? Cain looked around for any sign of a camera, but realized that just because he couldn't see it didn't mean it wasn't there. He finally settled on running since he had the chance, bolting for the door, his feet splashing in the water on the floor. He wasn't going to allow them to do those awful things to him anymore, and it was their own fault that he was getting away now.

The door clicked and swung outward, and the blond boy bolted down the hall, shocked by how much colder the air was out here compared to the room he was just in. Considering the fact that he was naked as the day he was born and soaked to the bone definitely did not help him. He sprinted down the hall, the artificial fluorescent light above him hurting his eyes and made him squint, but he ran on, stopped only by an enormous pair of solid steel doors, a small, dark screen on the right hand side.

Cain approached the screen, his breath quickened by his running, and touched it to see if anything would happen. A green light passed beneath his fingertips and he jerked his hand back, staring at the screen. It stayed blank for a while, and then turned green as the locks inside the door clanked and shifted heavily, and the doors split down the center and slid to the side, allowing him to slip through.

Lucky for him, all the running kept him warm, but the tips of his fingers felt like they were encrusted in ice, and he could hardly feel his toes. Goosebumps had formed where the chilling air still bit, and it worsened as he skid to a halt in front of a wide window, the only one he had seen so far. Outside, there was an enormous cylindrical tower with a pointed, cone-shaped cap. It was painted bright white, and fastened to a metallic, scaffold-like structure that was nearly as tall as the tower itself. Cain recognized it instantly.

"A rocket?" he muttered. He was currently being trained in rocketry, or had been before the incident that landed him inside that glass, water-filled prison. He was the top of his class already; most of those that took the very same class did not reach his level for several years, where it had taken him merely three months. He pressed his nose to the icy glass, gazing in wonder. What on earth could they need the rocket for? His training has also extended to piloting some sort of ship and he knew Abel, Seth, and Lilith were following a similar program. Maybe the rocket was part of that? Or... Maybe not. It looked a little old...

Cain continued down the brightly lit hall, walking this time, and wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. It did very little, and he doubted there was anywhere nearby where he could get a blanket.

After what felt like hours and hours of endless hallway, Cain was shivering so hard he had to find a place to sit and rest. He found a tight corner, and this time did not feel the bite of the floor or the walls on his pale skin as he huddled tightly against them. His knees were brought to his chest, his arms around them, his formerly wet hair now dry, but the water had already done its damage and sapped precious heat away from him. His eyes closed and his brain began to swim in his body's numbness, drifting off into space with his brother close by. He smiled, resting his forehead on his knees, and fell asleep.

Cain awoke finally, but did not open his eyes; the sun shining through his window was too bright and bothered them. He sighed deeply, finding his arms wrapped securely around a fluffy pillow, Cain himself covered in soft, warm blankets. He felt the strangest urge to roll himself up tightly in the blankets and never let go, considering the coldness he felt in that dream last night. Or was it a dream? He was still naked beneath the sheets, and he never remembered sleeping like that, and this bed was small and without Abel, and he never slept alone either. Unless he and Abel were still fighting and the apology had all been a dream too?

A set of footsteps caught his attention, and he did not get up, but listened to them. An unfamiliar voice met his ear.

"Are you awake, boy?" the man asked him in German, "You gave us quite the scare, running off like that. Anette, get this boy some food." The nurse beside him nodded once, and strode off. Cain sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, the blankets dropping to his waist.

"What... What have you done to me...?" he asked, a worried frown set on his lips, "And Abel? You did it to him too, and he killed someone. He hates you people..."

"Yes, I know. Don't worry about your brother, he's safe, and so are you. And you're all right. We just changed a few sings is all. No harm done." He was smiling. Cain shook his head,

"No... You've done something terrible. I read the notes."

"What? You read my notes?" Apparently this was Daniel Putzkammer.

"Yes... All of them. You said Abel killed some people... And this experiment you did... I was injured, but it healed. Right here, see?" he held up his formerly injured hand, and now there wasn't even a scar there.

"Oh, my... It seems you have taken to them even better than we expected you to. You see, the nanomachines are my experiment. We found them on Mars years ago, and tried them on many people."

"It's not something you should be proud of, you know. Those people were tortured because of you. Why did you do it?"

"My boy, it really is not so bad as you make it sound. They were unimportant people," he waved a hand nonchalantly. Cain jerked his hand back, his brows knitting,

"Unimportant? No, everyone is important, no matter what they do or don't do with themselves. Everyone means something. You can't say that some lives have no value, because we all do. Now, I want to go back to my brother, because it sounds like you've given him an even worse time than you gave me. Abel would never hurt someone unless provoked, so you must have done something awful." Dr. Putzkammer looked slightly astounded.

"Hmmm... Amazing. You managed to keep all of your personality and cognitive abilities it seems. We were afraid that you would lose some of that lovely brilliance of yours to them. I wonder if 02 faired the same?"

"His name is Abel. Stop calling him that. He's not just some pet, and neither am I." Dr. Putzkammer chuckled,

"No, of course not. I was mistaken. I apologize. You are, however, a valuable asset to the Red Mars Project." Cain could remember seeing a file on the computer with that name. A shame he hadn't clicked on it too before he ran... Then he'd know exactly what they were planning to do with the four of them. But he hadn't thought it was very important until now.

"What's that?"

"The Red Mars Project? Oh, we'll get to that. You'll know soon enough."

"I'd like to know right now. Why are you doing this to us? Does it have something to do with that project?"

"In essence, yes it does," he smiled, "But, that's all I can tell you for now. You'll continue your schooling for aircraft and spacecraft piloting, earn your official military rank, graduate, and the four of you will be sent on the journey of a lifetime. Lucky for me, I'll be joining you. I'd love to meet the other three. Are they anything like you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't know that... Did you know that you were exposed to the nanomachines before this?"

"Yes, but—" Anette returned with a tray, set with silverware, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a hot roll that was lightly buttered, and a mug of hot cocoa. She smiled, pulled out a table that extended over Cain's upper legs, and placed the tray on it. Over one arm, she was also carrying his clothes, and she left them on the foot of the bed.

"There you are. Anything else, Doctor?"

"No, thank you Anette. I'll call you if I need something." She nodded and gave the pair of them some privacy. Cain picked up his spoon,

"But they did different things with us... And I guess it wasn't so many of them, the nanomachines, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. And that group was—dare I say it—incompetent. Their methods were crude at best, causing more harm than good to the four of you. Their primitive facilities are nothing but a pile of rubbish compared to our top-of-the-line laboratory, wouldn't you agree?" Cain nodded, sipping the hot soup. It felt lovely on his insides, making him forget all about the numbing cold of last night. He tore off a piece of the bread and dipped it in the broth.

"They were terrible to us, treating us like rats... They turned Abel into a beast, and he was always in a bad mood. I hate seeing him like that," he ate it, "But the lab in London had a problem still, didn't they?"

"Ah, yes... They did, and that was part of the reason we stopped our own experiments," he watched as Cain stared blankly into his soup before taking off another chunk of the bread, dipping it in again and consuming it, "That, and we feared that you may lose consciousness to them. Those men were careless, not realizing what a valuable individual you really are..." He reached out and stroked a single strand of Cain's flaxen hair affectionately, causing the boy to pause in his eating and eye the doctor skeptically.

"What do you mean we could lose consciousness to them...?" He started on his soup after taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

"You see, the nanomachines are an aggressive entity, and they try to completely take over their host. We feared we'd lose your brilliant minds to their carnal ways, and, though the chances are very slim that you'd actually end up succumbing to them, we don't want to risk it. It's not worth it, you see."

"Oh... Okay... So... Like your notes said, they're like an organism, but they're machines?"

"Yes, that's correct." Cain stared down at his soup for a long time before actually taking another bite. A few bites later, just before Dr. Putzkammer left, Cain spoke again,

"So, what will you do with me now?"

"Since your testing is finished, we were going to send you back up to meet your brother and sister. Is that all right?" Cain brightened slightly.

"Of course it is. I want to see them again, especially Abel."

"Then I'll have you back by tomorrow, as soon as I can find your clothes again..." he stood and scratched his head a few times, shaking his head. He turned, patted the blond boy on the head, and left him there to finish his lunch.