For weeks, the only things within my control were my own thoughts. I dreamt of escape, of returning home to my mother in Japan. I would have given my soul just to spend one night in my own bedroom again, rather than wake up in the jail cell of a room I'd been given at the base.

I was allowed my basic freedom, of course. I had privacy to use the bathroom and shower; I was allowed outside the base for a breath of fresh air every day, though I was under constant supervision when I went outside- several soldiers with guns. They kept their distance, and I was grateful for that but I had to wonder if they knew why ten of them had been assigned to keep surveillance over one young woman.

I hadn't seen William for weeks after he escorted me to my quarters on the day I woke up and realized what they'd done to me.

I didn't know what I longed for more; I wanted to see William just as much as I hoped to never lay eyes on that man again. Should I ever see him again, I believed that my rage would be enough to propel me out of the drug's hold and I would be free to kill him with the claws that he'd given to me. To die by his own monstrous creation…no, that would be too fitting an end for him.

The notion came to me that, instead of killing William, I could use the terrible metal things imbedded in me and just scar him so terribly that no one would ever think of him as being human again. If all his visible skin had been slashed off, if he was missing an eye, if he was missing his limbs…I was relatively innocent, but even I knew enough of the world to know that people judged first with their eyes.

William had robbed me of my humanity by turning me into a monster- I could rob him of his by making him what he hated the most: completely powerless.

On the other hand, William terrified me. Imagine if you can, a man that you had grown up thinking of as a second father. A trusted family friend that became a common guest at the dinner table, a man that had attended your grade school recitals and came along on family outings to Tokyo's famous botanical gardens. It was insanity to see William kill my father- they had been friends for years, perhaps even before I'd been born.

William's betrayal was incomprehensible to me. I could never understand how he had changed so easily, sliding out of the façade of our friend and into his true self: a man whose hatred for mutants was so consuming, so intense that he would create monsters like Wolverine and I to use as weapons against them.

William could not see the innocent mutant children, the mutants that would use their powers for good, or even the mutants like me, who were so harmless to others that their mutation barely registered. I did hate William for betraying my family's trust and for killing my father and for what he'd done to me…my rage and hatred for the man was nearly all-consuming.

I say "nearly" because I knew in my heart that something must have happened to William; hatred was a learned behavior, and something terrible in his life must have taught William to hate mutants, hate us so much that he would risk his job, his reputation, his very life in this pursuit to rid the world of mutants. There were times when I could almost pity him, almost sympathize- but then the cold dead eyes of my father would return to me, and I would flex my adamantium, and remember what a monster he really was.

I often dreamt of home, but as is human nature, I became accustomed to the routines at the base and felt that I was never to live a life of my own ever again. There would be no college, no career, no lover, no husband and no children.

I would remain at the base until William decided that it was time for me to kill- it would be forced killing, but the blood would be on my hands nonetheless.

The idea twisted my stomach and at night I would retch at the thought of being forced to kill someone- someone with family, and friends, and dreams of their own. I would no doubt cause the death of dozens of people.

Memories drifted in and out of my drugged mind. In Japan, several of my friends and I had taken martial arts classes. It began as a hobby for me, but I'd trained for years and had even won a few international matches.

William knew this; he'd attended several of them.

I remembered that he'd never taken his eyes off of me when I was fighting- in my naïve infatuation, I'd basked in his attention. How goddamn stupid I had been! Had William been sizing up my merits as a pawn in his war on mutants even then? God! How long had he planned this? How long had he pictured me as his perfect killing machine!

I was a wonderful pawn- no one would suspect violence from such a petite, gentle girl like me. My martial arts training goal had never been to seriously injure my opponent, and never to kill them, although with my years of experience it was entirely possible. I'd never thought I'd use my training outside of the martial arts gym near our home, but I knew that William would force me to kill people.

That sick man…I'm not a killer!

The only man I'd ever even wish to kill was William himself. The reality of my situation weighed heavily on me one day after I'd come back to my room after a thorough examination in the medical lab- they took a full body x-ray and I saw for myself the adamantium was laced all throughout my body, just like Logan. When I went back to my room, I found a sharp business suit waiting for me and a short note in William's handwriting: 'Put this on and come out to the helicopter pad, our work is about to begin.'