A scream pierced the air.
Yet, not a single person had reacted.
One may wonder why, but the answer to that is a simple one!
It was the scream of a baby! A new life, and a special one at that!
Finally, after years and years of trying, Cerul and Jade had succeeded.
They'd had a child! But something was quite odd about him. He seemed to have spiky hair upon birth. And, even weirder, he had black hair? Neither of them had ever had that hair color within their ancestry!
His tail was brown, however. It was very clearly the tail of a monkey- something he'd inherited from his father. But it just didn't make sense! Not a single member of either of their family had ever had brown hair either!
So why was it that their child seemed like such an outlier? Was he destined to be a black sheep within the family? It wasn't until their doctor had returned had their faces paled.
He was, without a doubt, their child.
But he was also a Saiyan.
That meant he no longer belonged to them; it meant he was to be taken and trained.
A mother had sobbed, robbed of her child so soon, her dreams of raising a healthy, strong boy crushed within moments.
A father had wept, robbed of time teaching his very own son how to walk-teaching him how to talk, teaching him to fish, to camp, of capturing his very first steps on camera.
"I'm sorry,"
The doctor had uttered, looking remorseful yet resolved.
"But this is necessary."
In a flash, several soldiers had entered the room.
Once more, a scream had pierced the air.
And heads began rolling.
The Atlesian soldiers had succeeded.
They had secured a future soldier with no familial attachments left alive, even if they had removed those attachments themselves.
And so began their operation.
001.
That's what they had dubbed the boy. The soldiers were not entirely sure why, but that is what their boss had decided to call him.
And it kind of just stuck.
For his first year of life, they had treated him as if he were normal.
Just a baby, enjoying life! Unaware of all the grievances and difficulties that come with it.
He'd begun to crawl at the young age of...4 months.
They noted he was quite exceptional, as he had begun to walk at just six months old.
He'd begun to communicate at eight months old.
By ten months old, he'd begun to attempt speaking and somewhat succeed.
And when an entire year had finally passed? He had already spoken several times.
That was when they stopped treating him as usual. That was when they'd begun his training.
That was when, to them, he was no longer '001, the baby,' but '001, the Saiyan.'
Eighteen hours.
That was how long subject #001 had been training. Everything he did was training. That was their system, train, train, train until the four-year-old drops from exhaustion!
Wait for said four-year-old to wake up, and then do it again!
Whether it be polishing his mental agility or some form of physical punishment, he was always doing something.
And it was in this environment that subject #001 had excelled. His hand-to-hand capabilities were of that of a ten-year-old. One could say he was prodigious, even!
Any Saiyan could be a cut above the rest, but 001? 001 was several cuts ahead. He barreled through any adversity thrown towards him, constantly improving himself.
Plus, he got food when he did good! That was an important factor that had doubled his effort value.
"You've been called in today to inspect subject #001's progress as a Soldier. I would like to hear your report."
The younger soldier automatically responded to the prompting from his senior officer.
"His tactical ability is...unorthodox. When in a physical fight, he actively deploys high-level tactics and maneuvers. It is imperative to note that while he is five years old, he holds about the same strength as an average 10-year old Huntsman hopeful. His skill with hand to hand is, however, several levels beyond that. He could likely match someone who is only a year away from entering a preparatory combat academy."
The younger officer's voice had stayed perfectly even as he spoke of the young Saiyan's progress. Well trained, without a doubt.
The younger officer answered with an even tone of voice. He did not question his orders. He was trained not to, and he honored that training well. The senior officer could appreciate that.
"It was to my surprise that outside of physical combat, he is relatively slower when dealing with academic endeavors. He is still exceptional, obviously, but not to the level that he is physically capable."
The senior officer's face had been as stone-cold as it was when he'd first asked for the report. One had to steel their heart when realizing this was a five-year-old child they discussed.
But this was necessary, and the orders they received detailed so perfectly. They would not fail this mission.
They couldn't let it happen.
At six years old, 001 had begun to question his situation consciously. It made sense that he did, though. They hadn't started his loyalty training and probably wouldn't for a long time yet.
Because they willed it, 001 gained more knowledge and strength. Because they willed it, 001 hadn't questioned his situation before. But it was always because they willed it.
To him, it just didn't make sense. What made him so special that these people would provide this level of training? What made him so important that they hadn't told him who his parents were? Why is it that everything he'd hear is about how Atlas was the greatest-yada, yada.
He believed it was because he was far too young. That, in time, they'd tell him everything. But it's always been the same thing!
They assign him some form of work, wait for him to solve it, and then tell him off for anything he's done wrong. Heck, the best praise he'd gotten out of them was 'As expected, Soldier.'
What the heck was that!?
Shouldn't he be getting some compliments by this point? He may not have been matching the large man who trained him, but that was simply logical!
He was small, and therefore, had less mass and overall strength. Matching him would defy ph- phys- it was physics. That was it!
Before he could continue his train of thought, a soldier had walked into the room. The soldier had held a plate, a plate that emitted the pleasant aroma of meat!
"Your food, 001."
The soldier had stated, and his voice was as flat as ever. 001 had immediately shifted his priority to eating.
When the soldier had set the plate down near him, 001 made sure to act on his best behavior. Bad behavior meant portion reduction, and he could never let that happen again.
001 had thanked the soldier and had waited.
He was ensuring that the soldier had left the room before he began his meal. He was afraid that if he messed up in the direct presence of the soldier, the punishment would be that much harsher.
There was no way he could afford to get smaller portions than before!
A year later
The facility was in chaos. Somehow, in some way, they'd been compromised.
Grimm. It was supposed to be just some Grimm. Nothing too overwhelming, something you could deal with using your average military power!
But it wasn't just some Grimm. Of course, it wasn't.
A soldier let out a cold, shuddering breath as the Grimm wreaked havoc among the facility.
'How unfortunate.'
He'd thought to himself, weakly. He took this job with dreams of ascending to grandeur at some point and look at him now. He could almost chuckle at how a younger him would have never expected this sort of outcome. On some level, he should have seen it coming.
It was a throwaway branch where they'd discard the lesser soldiers to 'recruit' their other 'soldiers' into the upper-echelons of the army.
When it came down to it, he wasn't considered essential to the army.
Just another soldier. Just another average person. Just another disposable pawn, he supposed. What a fool he must look like after committing so faithfully to the job.
He'd even kidnapped a child for this! He'd robbed him of his childhood just so the army could have one more highly skilled soldier. He'd taken the boy's parents, too.
In the end, what had it all equated to?
Had it all ever mattered?
He was afraid because he couldn't find the answer to that.
'When had the line between soldier and monster become so indistinguishable?'
Pain! The adrenaline must have run its course. He would die soon.
'How many times have I crossed it?'
What had led him to this point? His parents hadn't raised him to end up performing acts such as these. He could imagine them now, appalled and disappointed.
'The answer is...too many.'
Oh, how it hurt so, so much more than anything else!
Perhaps he had it in him to do one final good deed of his own volition.
He began to force himself upwards, gasping in pain at every minimal movement he forced himself to make. When he'd reached his knees, his vision had darkened significantly, and when he finally stood tall, he'd began to feel lightheaded.
With great effort, he forced himself to take a step forward. The moment his foot made contact with the ground, his knees almost buckled. But he stood stalwart, in conviction, and continued on his way.
The man refused to fall now, not when he'd finally found something he truly wanted to do!
It was an agonizing walk down the hallway and to the one reinforced door in the entire facility.
It stood out clearly, an untouched gem. Everything around it had been tainted in some way while it stood unaffected by the chaos around it.
As he approached the door, he recognized some attempts to breach it. None of them had succeeded, by the looks of it.
Good. It had done its job.
He could still get 001 out of there. That was perfect.
With a shaky hand, he keyed in the code to the door. The door later slid open with a silent hiss. Inside, he saw, for the very first time, a 7-year-old child.
One that looked up at him in fear, yet with eyes that held the curiosity of a young boy. That was right! The boy had never seen his face before- actually, the boy hadn't seen any faces before.
It was probably jarring to him to see one for the very first time.
Regardless, they didn't have much time before the Grimm noticed them. So he spoke.
"001. You are released from captivity, effective immediately. If you have any questions, please direct them to me right now. As of now, you are no longer 001."
The boy had reacted differently than he thought. Rather than jump in joy, he just sat there, confused.
"Then, what am I? If I am not 001, then who am I?"
It was jarring to the old soldier that the boy would react like this, but it was just another wake-up call. It was just another testimony to what his blind faith had caused him to do. Because he realized then, the boy had no other identity than 001.
Then he'd have to give the boy an identity himself, wouldn't he?
"You are a Saiyan. The peak of monkey Faunus'. You are 7-years-old. You are capable of going toe-to-toe with people twice your age in Hand-to-hand combat. You are Son Goku. Remember this."
The man beckoned the boy along as he walked out of the door. The boy followed, of course, curious to learn more about himself.
"Son...Goku?"
The soldier then walked directly to his right and left the facility through a hole the Grimm had, without a doubt, torn open.
"Yes, that is your name. Now go, child. I will not be able to speak for much longer."
Once they had made it outside, there was a forest directly to their left, and the destroyed facility lay in ruin to their right.
"Go where?"
The man gestured to the forest to their left and had pointed.
"You will walk directly in this direction. Food and water may be difficult, but this pack I will provide you should last you two days at the very least."
The soldier had pulled a survival pack out of a hidden container, locked within the walls of the room earlier. He'd handed it to the boy, to Son Goku, and told him to go.
"You will stumble upon a dirt path. Once you do so, follow the dirt path by going in the opposite direction of wherever there are signs. If you follow the path, you will find a large village. There, they will teach you all you need to know."
It was finally time.
However, the boy asked an interesting question.
"What's your name?"
The man had frozen for a moment before turning to the boy, his eyebrows raised in shock. He should've expected the question, but he hadn't. What was his name? For the longest time, he'd gone by his moniker.
He thought long and hard, trying to discern whether or not he had, at some point, had a name before.
And then he remembered the day his mother was wishing him well, the day his father had told him that he was so, so proud he had made it into the army. They called him-
His name was-
"Son Gohan. That's my name, my boy. Now, get on out of here, will you? It's time you find out what it means to live your life to the fullest!"
Son Goku had smiled brightly at him because, for the first time, he knew a name!
That was the closest to a friendship he's gotten so far!
So, to keep his friend happy, Son Goku followed his instructions to a T.
Son Goku followed orders and sprinted in the direction pointed out for him.
And eventually, behind the many trees of the forest, Son Goku disappeared from Son Gohan's view.
And Son Gohan finally allowed himself to fall to the ground.
'Mother...Father, have I finally made you proud?'
With a final thought, Son Gohan drifted into eternal peace.
If anyone had come here from FLW, I'd like to apologize? Kinda? This is what I'm doin' to get the creative juice flowin'.
In any case, hope you guys enjoy this!
Any sort of criticism or reviews would be appreciated.
Peace!