All right, this fic is a re-write of Four Sided Triangle. I have been thinking, and I like my new plot and I know where everything is going to go, plot wise. So, you'll see the differences from the original. If you didn't read the original, don't worry about it. I've grown as a writer and I like this new plot much, much better. Hopefully this one isn't so mary- sueish. Ok so let's get this proverbial ball rolling.

Disclaimer I do not own any characters from Marvel, X-Men or otherwise. I own the characters you don't recognize. I also own the plot.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A man was thrust into a small windowless room. He stumbled and fell into a stainless steel table. The legs wobbled and the glass containers it was holding nearly tumbled from their perch. The thick door slammed shut, imprisoning the man. The shot of sound the closing door made echoed off of the bare and cold walls, making the man's ears ring. His head felt like a sledgehammer had pounded it in. His whole body felt like that, as a matter of fact. The man chuckled nervously as his mind cleared the uncomfortable, foggy feeling the anesthetic created. He didn't like that feeling. He felt unprotected, too vulnerable when he couldn't use his brain to it's full potential. The man's eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dim light a fluorescent tube emitted above his aching head. He could make out test tubes, beakers and various other pieces of lab equipment. His hair, long from negligence, fell in front of his eyes, eyes that were watering from the cause of his predicament. Soon sobs wracked his body as he thought of his family. His wonderful wife and his beautiful girl. He would never see his baby grow into adolescence and become a rebellious teenager. He hadn't been around much to see her mature from dolls to hunky movie stars in the first place. He won't be able to tease her about crushes on those movie stars either. The man was distracted from the pain his heart radiated when the door creaked open and a silhouette of a man stepped into view. The visitor stepped forward, leaving the door open just a crack, probably for the light.
"Oh come on, Clark. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get your ass off of that cold floor." The man addressed his prisoner. "You brought this upon yourself, you know. Experimenting with all those serums and all. Trying to make this world a better place." The male on the floor stood up at the remark, but slowly as if his bones were twenty years older than his actual age, and leaned against the feeble table. "That's much better, my good man. Now I can see how pathetic you look right now." The prisoner racked his brain for an escape route, ignoring his opponent's insults, using his mind to create scenarios on how he could break out of this hellhole. The man named Clark looked his captor in the eye; glaring at those cold, silver orbs as the second man continued to talk. "You know what I want, Clark. You know why you're here." Clark searched blindly on the table for anything lethal to use as a weapon. His hand found and grasped a glass cylinder. He wasn't even listening to the intruder now. "Clark, my little genius. Just cooperate. For your daughter's sake." Clark's rage erupted at the mention of his daughter. His lovely daughter whom he would never see. Who this monster was threatening. Clark screamed, letting his anger loose as he hurled the glass container at the fiend's head. The man jumped out of the way before the projectile made contact, but was pushed over by his prisoner's escape attempt.
"Stop him!!!" The man yelled from the floor as Clark darted out of the door. A scuffle was heard outside as Clark met a pair of guards. He was soon dragged back into his cell and thrown against a wall, being held there by his captor's goons. The man on the floor pushed himself to a standing position and straightened himself out, adjusting his tie and smoothing out his jacket. He smirked at his prisoner, that stupid scientist. He strolled over to the struggling Clark who was apparently trying to gasp something inaudible because of a parched throat. The man leaned down to hear what he had to say.
"Who are you?" Clark questioned the man with a raspy voice.
"Me?" The man shot back as he stepped backwards toward the door. He motioned his head towards the guards, who slammed Clark against the wall and then ambled to the door. Clark slumped to the ground in a sitting position with his chin against his chest. The man continued to back away and just as he left the cell, Clark raised his head to hear the answer. "You can call me by my first name, as you'll be hearing it a lot soon." And just as the door was about to close, the man muttered one barely audible statement.
"Donovan. Go ahead and search your mastermind mind for the meaning of that one, genius." The man named Donovan stepped from the room with a final clang from the iron door.
Then, as he was told to do, Clark hunted in his vast knowledge for the meaning. He chuckled when he found the diction of his captor's name.
Donovan: Dark Warrior.
To Clark, it fit him perfectly. But Clark didn't know how much Donovan's name would dictate his character until he found out what cause motivated this man to such awful deeds. To what battle that dark warrior wanted to fight. Clark didn't even know if he would live to know what Donovan wanted to do.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alright, that was the prologue. Next chapter coming soon, if I get enough reviews mind you. Hope you like it so far... this was just to give a bit of b/g info... sort of. R & R. Pendragon4