Well, zero reviews on a third chapter is odd for me, I guess I'm used to more lively fanfiction, but I suppose since this is my first MGS fanfic I shouldn't be surprised…I've been doing alright, or at least bouncing around cool ideas in my mind; it's been quite fun.

As for these weird new characters, don't worry, all will be explained, slowly but surely.

Well, anyway, let's start the show.

Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear or its characters. Konami does, and they rock. Who else could create someone as kickass as Revolver Ocelot!

The island of Lihin, South China Sea

Unknown Location

Heinrich Nox frowned angrily as he stared at the odd-looking Japanese man looking him up and down almost critically.

He'd always been used to ridicule or aversion, being completely albino, his pupils red, his skin almost as white as the paper of the Communist propaganda he had been writing in the early 1990s.

But the affliction had only struck him a decade or so ago. He remembered the slow decline into madness as his skin became discolored, as his eyes grew wild and dead, and as his mind fell into horror.

Indeed, he remembered it, he thrived off of it, and Wako's staring eyes only made Nox's returning gaze even more intense and unflinching.

Wako simply nodded satisfactorily to himself and stepped backwards, adjusting his prim tan uniform.

Nox smirked.

Another fool, another deluded imbecile believing in the "cause".

Wako was another holdover from the "glory" days of the Japanese Red Army, the current leader, a stocky, bald, insignificant man, who like all his men on this island, was mainly part of an unknowing farce.

"So, Comrade Nox, how are you and your Brigade doing? I trust you find the compound satisfactory."

Nox nodded, simply grunting, apathy that gave the appearance of subservience.

Wako slowly sat down, offering Nox an empty, cushioned leather chair, and then pulled a small flask of whiskey from behind his desk, pouring it into two empty glasses.

"But, comrade, I did not call you hear for simple pleasantries."

Nox almost yawned, but then nodded, not going for his glass of liquor.

"I have been informed recently that a great hero to the cause is arriving! Revolver Ocelot, Shalashaska of the old Ocelot unit. We heard great things on his work for your motherland. Is this true?"

Nox stiffened, holding back a sigh.

This was not good news. He hadn't expected this level of meddling from the Committee, not with the young Snake already here overseeing him.

He could've handled everything on the island himself, but not Ocelot. Not alone. Ocelot was a horrendously treacherous type, a fast shot, and a quick slaughterer of men.

He silently cursed to himself, not appreciating the new variable about to enter his equations and then simply adopted an artificially calm and serious tone.

"Yes, Comrade Ocelot…a great, seasoned man in the cause. He will do us well."

Wako seemed please and Nox simply smirked.

He'll do you well after he puts a bullet in your back, idiot Jap…

Wako was as good as dead, either by the Chinese Philosophers, by Ocelot, by Solid Snake, by the Brigade, or if worse came to worse, by Nox himself. But the time had not come for that, not yet.

Unknown Location

Revolver Ocelot stared forward, a calm, collected look. A group of dark obelisks surrounded him, looming over him ominously, but he seemed unaffected.

Why am I still here, dammit?

He was used to long and lengthy discussions with the Committee. He hadn't a choice, really, but he was getting tired waiting at the silent whim of faceless gray obelisks.

Finally they spoke.

"And one more matter remains in this incident, Ocelot."

"Yes?"

"Brittle Snake…"

Ocelot's eyes widened in confusion.

Snake? Brittle Snake? It sounds like some joke…

Suddenly a video screen appeared, floating in front of him in the darkness, shimmering as images played on its screen, black and white, apparently from some sort of security camera.

It showed a classroom, a regular American classroom, Ocelot figured, although he'd never had the privilege (or disadvantage) of serving in the American public school system.

The image simply showed what seemed to be around twenty teenagers, possibly ages around seventeen or eighteen, high school seniors, sitting behind their desks as an old man with balding gray hair and freckles made slow gestures and seemed to be teaching them calculus.

Ocelot stared at the screen, sighing in the silent darkness, feeling horrendously bored as what seemed like hours passed by.

Then suddenly, something broke the monotony.

Ocelot almost coughed in surprise.

He hadn't noticed the young man at all. He'd simply been another nondescript student, a young man in the corner of his vision sitting down, clad in a somber black coat.

The student stood from his desk, unexpectedly, and drew what seemed to be a Luger, He fired it once into the chest of the teacher, then spun around, drawing another pistol, and beginning his work.

Ocelot's eyes widened at the massacre, not out of horror, but out of awe at the young man, who was firing bullet after bullet efficiently, almost mathematically, without waste, a single bullet per student's chest.

No one survived.

"His original name has been erased from the records. He has a long history of severe anger disorders, and coupled with the side-effects, both mental and physical, of cloning, he is quite…easy to trigger. Quite brittle indeed. "

Ocelot nodded, his voice echoing as he spoke.

"So that school massacre was simply-"

"It served quite admirably in quickening the censorship of video-sensory games and entertainment. The media was informed to blame it on video games once more."

"And not only that, Shalashaska, but it also served to bring him into our control. He disappeared from existence, away from punishment and any sort of control other than ours. It is perfect."

"He is young, he is of Big Boss, of the cursed Snake line, the freshest production of the Les Infants Terribles project, thought to have been halted so long ago by those fools at Philanthropy, and indeed by you I assume."

Ocelot nodded, silent, his mind enraged at the development occurring unbeknownst to him.

"You must oversee him, attempt to mature him into a proper servant to our cause. And simply help him oversee the situation in Lihin, make sure everything comes down without misstep."

"The JRA are deluded, nothing to worry about, but I have sent a data file on your personal computer on the Pyesetz Brigade, its members and its history. They must be watched, quite closely, and be made another subservient Foxhound, another fooled Dead Cell. You've done this well before, even when the original Philosophers existed. The trust remains, Adamska, now continue it."

Ocelot nodded and then sighed as the obelisks shimmered off into the darkness, leaving him alone in the silence.

The island of Lihin, South China Sea

Unknown Location

Nox smiled as he watched the small transport helicopter land in the clearing in front of them, kicking up dust and wind as Brittle Snake and Hanzo Eagle stood silently at either side of him, as they stared at the helicopter.

Out emerged three figures, hoisting a wooden coffin upon their shoulders, the first man visible seemed as if he had been carved from stone.

His codename was Granite Cougar, and indeed it seemed to fit him squarely, his features cut and jutting like stone, his body bare except for long green camouflage pants, the shirtless state showing off his bulging abdominal muscles.

His figure was not grotesquely muscular, but instead seemed like some cross, something perfect in between the ungainly muscles of a bodybuilder and the efficient taut muscles of a runner or swimmer.

Strapped to his back was a huge, thick, solid club of wood, nice and long, and mottled all over like a scarred old dog with notches carved into it.

Nox smirked as he watched Cougar descend, knowing full well the meaning of the notches.

Now, Granite Cougar would've been more than enough to carry the coffin, but at either corner of the opposite end was a figure, bearing the coffin against his shoulder.

The one on the right hand side was a hulking mass, a hunched over figure, odd in comparison to the taut, Greek figure of Granite. Instead he seemed hunched over and wrapped in a thick gray cape, or possibly more than one drab garment, all wrapped around him and flowing, framed by a dark green gasmask covering his face that mainly made him look like some sort of pseudo bag lady.

The figure on the left hand side was a tall, lanky, slender man dressed entirely in black with a black fedora. In fact, it seemed like he was taken off of a screen full of black and white cinema, since he was covered from head to toe in ebony except for his pale, almost completely albino skin. Even his eyes were a pale, light, lifeless gray. But in the end, he was no albino, Nox knew very well his different warriors, and Plague Hyena was no albino.

The two odd figures bearing the end of the coffin slowly halted and stayed back, silent, as Granite Cougar let the coffin slam against the ground with a thump of dust and dirt, clapping his hands to wipe off the grime, and then turning to Nox, his eyes almost twinkling as he spoke in his familiar, deep voice.

"We have the cargo."

Nox smirked as Cougar reached down and ripped the top of the coffin straight off with one hand, despite the fact that it had been nailed down tight, revealing the cargo within.

It was a pale, almost effeminate man with ivory hair and pale almost handsome features. There was evidently dry blood on his slowly moving chest.

"I trust you didn't have to rough him up that bad?"

"No sir."

Nox grinned wide, a true expression for once, odd on his pale face as he examined the unconscious face of Raiden.

Hah…the trap has been sprung, the game begins. Now I have the ultimate bait and bargaining chip. The Committee will pay for their leniency…Speaking of that grizzled bunch…

Nox turned to see the expression on Brittle Snake's face but then realized, with a raised eyebrow, that the young man had simply disappeared from the crowd without anyone really noticing, a dark, shrouded figure shimmering off into the jungle.

Unknown Location over the Pacific Ocean

Ocelot leaned back in the large cargo plane, staring at the laptop sitting on his lap.

All around him were elite Tengu, armed with katanas and P90s, the same sort that had been at Big Shell.

The Committee has graciously lent Ocelot a division of the super soldiers, and Ocelot couldn't help but smirk, having memories of the Ocelot unit flood back in his head. This would be the new Ocelot unit, it made him feel slightly nostalgic.

But he brushed the foolish memories of Sorrow away, staring at the laptop in front of him and slowly clicking on the data files that had been uploaded by the Committee.

He watched as the one labeled "Venom".

It showed a small picture, a lean, lanky man of Asian origin, the file saying he was Chinese, his name unlisted. He seemed muscular and healthy, but there was another image next to him, the image of a huddled mass of cape, a hunched-over man, stooped over with a gasmask over his face and that drab brown fabric covering his entire body and flowing down, like the garb of a monk.

Under that picture there were the simple words, "Venom Lamprey".

And then more text, which Ocelot read aloud in his mind, tired but intrigued.

Captured by the Chinese army at Tieneman Square, listed as officially killed after attacking government troops…later experimented on with multiple poisons and venoms of the world by the Chinese Philosphers. This left him with…numerous scars, madness, and more side-effects still not recorded, as well as immunity to all poisons in the world…inexplicably survived testing…went on as mercenary for various terrorist groups in China and Vietnam before meeting Heinrich Nox and joining the Pyesetz Brigade

Ocelot sighed, exiting the file, his mind already flooding with plans to use the information listed on his computer to his advantage.

But for now, he was tired, drifting off into sleep as his Tengu soldiers remained alert even in the safety of the cargo plane.

Revolver Ocelot, otherwise known as Shalashaska, couldn't have known however, that by then Solid Snake was on a very similar cargo plane heading towards the same region, of course if he had been, he and the entity inside of him would've been quite pleased indeed.

Yeah, yeah…short chapters…But it's not like it matters right now since barely anyone's reading this…

Once I get this story zooming along, the chapters will get longer and longer…

Well, see you next chapter.