*Chapter 1*
~DX-0~
Memories can be a curse. True they have their uses, just about everything does. They are a record of all that has happened to a single individual; both failures and successes are remembered for the future. Memories play a role in shaping an individual, they effect decisions and perceptions. But memories can hurt. They fuel phobias and prejudices, the past torments the future. Memories can also remind one of what they once had, now have lost, and will never have again. These hurt the most.
Emotions can be a handicap. True they evolved as a survival tool and can be quite useful. Fear and love ensure survival of the individual and the species. But emotions can also take a dark turn. Anger and hate are destructive. All emotions cloud the mind and twist perceptions and ideas. They rule the individual and the society. They are a part of life. Without them a person is not considered to be truly alive.
Life is short and brutal. A lifetime for an individual is barely the blink of an eye to the lifetime of a planet, just as the lifetime of a planet is short compared to the lifetime of the universe. The life of a living thing is swift and brutal. The need for food, water, and shelter drives all life. Species evolve and become extinct when they cannot change fast enough. The law of survival rules all: eat or be eaten, kill or be killed. Something could be born only to die a short time later. That is just the way things are.
Pain is a constant part of existence. Without pain how can one be sure that one is alive? Pain is a signal that something is wrong. It is a tool that teaches life what is bad. Without pain what is pleasure? In a world without pain what would be used to measure happiness, pleasure? As long as one is alive there will always be pain. If one does not feel pain then they are not alive.
Humans are a paradox. Take one look at history and it all becomes clear. There is a desire for peace yet a love of war. Different sides blame each other and believe they alone are in the right. War after war after war since the dawn of the species this is the norm. Ideologies from every point of view clash with one another and lead to ever greater conflict and violence. People make promises to win power and break them to keep it. They are encouraged to share what they have with others but the greed is how they get more. Being truthful is encouraged yet the only way to get ahead is to lie, to bend and twist the truth. Say one thing but do another that is the way of humans.
These are five things that DX-0 knew to be completely and wholly true. In all his 17 years of life, he had yet to see one thing to disprove these truths. Not that he could say he cared much about it; that was life and he wasn't dead yet so he had to put up with it. Perhaps if he had been allowed to lead a normal life he wouldn't think this way, but anything that could be considered normal in his life ended on his eighth birthday. Not that what happened before was really normal. But that didn't matter anymore. Nothing really mattered. If only he could fully let go of life then everything would end. But something held him back, insisted he live, that he survive. Perhaps in his case the survival instinct itself was a curse.
The only refuge he had was routine. Without it he would have gone mad long ago, or maybe he would have simply died. Damn his refuge then, death was an escape he wouldn't mind one bit. Damn purpose too, that was a reason to live and unfortunately he had one. His purpose, his personal one anyway, was to please his Handlers, make them happy, and do whatever they say without struggle. That's all he really did anymore. All the missions, all the training, it was all to make them happy, all to escape the threat of pain.
Pain, he didn't know why he worried so much about it. If he suffered enough he might die and then he would escape. But pain is a survival tool. When it hurts, he gives in. It's the main way that he and others like him are controlled. Heck it's the way all life is controlled, humans especially. The reason he needed the refuge of routine was to escape from pain, the pain of loneliness and monotony, the pain of his life as it is now. Life is pain, pain is life. That's how the world works, especially DX-0's world.
Funny how he didn't even think of himself with his given name anymore, he was just DX-0, nothing more, nothing less. Or maybe it wasn't funny. DX-0 neither knew nor cared. That name was full of old and painful memories and he avoided any kind of pain, real or imagined. The others still insisted on using their names behind the Handlers' backs, DX-0 never really saw the point. It was a foolish act of rebellion that held no meaning for him. They asked his name once but he never answered. They didn't talk to him much after that, not that he'd ever answered them. There wasn't any point to talking so he didn't unless he was required to by his Handlers.
He was the Handlers favorite. Perfectly obedient and unquestioning, say jump and he'd jump. He didn't give them trouble like the others did. He was the 'Good Boy', he never misbehaved. The Handlers were a varied lot, some were cruel, and others were kind. They were chosen because they were skilled, loyal, and unquestioning, like he was only with personality. Some tried to get a reaction out of him, they teased, taunted, and tormented him but it never did anything. Others seemed to pity him, they acted kindly towards him but again it never did anything. They'd all given up long ago.
There was a knock on his door. DX-0 wearily picked himself off his cot and stood at attention waiting for the Handlers to either come in or call him out. He didn't have to wait long. The plain steel door opened slowly with a faint creak as his Handler, Juli, entered. She'd been in the military before she was injured and now she worked here. That's the story of most of the Handlers, they got hurt and this was one of the few options left. She studied him with icy precision, looking for anything amiss. She'd never liked him, why that was he didn't know, but she always looked for the tiniest reason to harass him. But he didn't care, not much affected him anymore.
"[DX-0, you are to report to the recreation center for your 'free time'.]" Juli snapped; she was probably angry that she found nothing to harass him with.
DX-0 simply nodded and proceeded to follow his orders however pointless they may be. He traveled down the colorless corridors with his Handler a few steps behind. It was time for their 'free time', a few hours each day where all of the DXs went to the recreation center to do just about whatever they wished. DX-0 didn't see why he had to go, he never did anything except sit and watch. The whole thing was most likely set up for the others to help keep them in line; he'd never had such a thing when he first came. He was DX-0, the first Mutant collected, everyone else came much later. He was the best Mutant that his government had to offer, highly trained and obedient, that's why his number is 0.
But despite being called the best he had been sent on the fewest missions. The most likely reason for this was his appearance. All the others looked perfectly human; they could pass for one without batting an eyelash. He did not look human, not at all. If he walked out of the Facility without any kind of disguise he would be instantly labeled a demon or monster and run out of human society. Maybe he wasn't a Mutant at all but a demon instead. Not that it would affect him. It would only affect those around him. People who still were completely alive inside.
All too soon he and his Handler arrived at the doors leading to the recreation center. Juli left him at the door as he entered the spacious room. His entrance killed any conversation between the other Mutants. They regarded him with wary disgust, watching him as he sat on a worn out couch. DX-0 then fixed his empty gaze on the small TV, numbly watching some infomercial about cook-ware. Once they were sure he wasn't paying attention to them they began to talk again. That's how it always went, he came in, they shut up, he watched TV, they began to talk again, and it never, ever changed. This went on for three hours until the Handlers called them back to their 'rooms' or off for some training.
His life hadn't always been this way. He had a life once outside of this sterile government Facility. But no more, it had all ended on his birthday nine years ago. Even if he could find his way back home they would only find him again. And if for some reason they left him alone what kind of life could he live? He didn't look human, beyond his foster family who would accept him? Who could? He'd never find a job, who knew what level his education was at, and people hated Mutants. There was no getting around that fact. And after living in this soulless place for so long he doubted he could fully function in the outside world. True he could put up a decent act of normalcy when the situation called for it, but how long he could keep it up was the question.
The hours drifted by, DX-0 eyes never left the TV screen, and the other DXs never stopped talking. They would sometimes laugh at some joke or funny story but mostly they would speak in quiet tones as if they were afraid of being overheard. DX-0 thought that was pretty stupid thing to worry about, of course their Handlers and Superiors were listening. So what was the point of trying to hide what they were saying? He didn't see one. But maybe his view was due to the fact that he didn't really care anymore. Before he could think up anymore depressing thoughts there was an interruption in the routine.
"[DX-0 you are to report to General Grün's office immediately.]" The loudspeaker blared. For the second time that day all conversation ceased and all eyes turned to fixate on the Mutant in question. Despite this sudden surprise DX-0 calmly rose from the broken-down couch and silently made his way to the door. The only reason for such a summons was that he had a mission to complete. Oh well, I guess things won't be routine for a while. Verdammt.