Hello again. I am back and with a massive chapter nonetheless.
First and foremost I really am sorry about the wait. I did not intend to take a two month Hiatus, but well as I said, work is a bitch like that.
I also do want to thank all the new followers and people who have read this fiction this past month or so. It's really is cool to see this story still gaining traction despite me not putting out new chapters all the time.
Also I feel that the last chapter was a bit tame in comparison to most of the chapters I have put out so far. Thus, hopefully this one makes up for that by being not only interesting but over 5k words
As per a few of these chapters so far, this is a combination of two chapters into one, as the original chapter just did not have enough in it for me to consider it complete. It is needed for sure, but it was far too short for me to consider putting it out.
This new one I think does a better job of showing you what exactly is going on the mind of Drew, and what he does on a day-to-day basis at XCOM right now. Though it is worth noting this is by far the longest chapter so far so strap in for that.
Again I am sorry about the wait for this one. If I was not working over a hundred hours a week I would have completed it sooner, so hopefully next chapter won't take as long.
As always, if you're enjoying the rewrite, please make sure to leave a review. Cause reasons...
Cheers
Wednesday, May 4th, 2024
2230 Hours
Of all the things I was expecting to feel at the end of my first training day at XCOM, confusion was not very high on my list.
Apparently Lock did not get that memo however, so here I am, laying half dead on my bed, ready to pass out at any given moment, but unable to because I still cannot for the life of me figure this woman out.
"Fuck me." I groaned loudly, turning over again in a futile attempt to find a cold part of the bed to lay on.
On one hand, she is damn good. Hell, it's safe to say she is leagues above even the best soldiers on the field today. Both in terms of strength and overall skill.
But on the other hand, her personality is about as inconstant as a bipolar drunk. She can go from zero to a hundred and back again in less time than it takes to even register the change.
Looking back on her past behaviour as well, it would be easy to simply label her as a bitch and be done with it, but for some reasons unbeknownst to me, that assumption just seemed way off.
Maybe it was how inconsistent her facial expressions were, or how quickly her behaviour fluctuated. But something about her just set off warning bells in my mind. Something about her told me that she was not shallow enough for that assumption to be true.
Now that I think about it, something in general about today just seemed off.
Maybe it was the sheer intensity of the session she lead me through. I mean sure, she is supposed to be training me up, but I don't think almost physically breaking me is the best way to go about it.
True, she started things off innocently enough. Gave me a couple warm up stretches, one or two light flexibility exercises, and even ran me through a short jog "Just to get the blood flowing."
But then, BAM! Out of fucking nowhere she just pumps things straight up to eleven.
And I do mean the "Hey I know about this awesome, gruelling regime of free weight exercises and machines that's sole purpose is to sap every single ounce of strength from your body, and leave you lying flat on your back with barely enough energy left to breath." Level of turned up to eleven.
Ever held a plank until your arms literally gave out from under you? I have. And trust me when I say that it is not as fun or rewarding as the movies make it seem.
Especially not when Lock is still holding strong right next to you.
Oh, but it didn't end there.
See, once Lock had finished mercilessly extracting every ounce of strength from each and every one of my limbs, she decided that now was the perfect time to test and see just how up to snuff my hand to hand combat skills were.
Which is the polite way of saying she beat the ever-living shit out of me for an hour or two, in front of every single recruit and solider who happened to be training.
"But Drew? Why didn't you fight back? Why would you just let her beat you around for a couple hours?"
Well my fine feathered friend, it turns out that arms which can barely move are not that useful when attempting to defend oneself from a trained super soldier.
I know. Crazy, right? Who would have ever thought?
Sarcasm aside though, it really did feel completely unnecessary. We both already knew she was better than me in every sense of the word. She didn't need to literally beat that fact into me for me to remember it.
Now after she was finished toying with her prey, and had soundly beating me into the mats about twenty times, it was deemed to finally be time for the endurance portion of the exam. Which, while simple in explanation, was quite frankly the most torturous twenty minutes of my life.
A four-mile game of cat and mouse, with Lock setting the pace as the mouse.
Easy, right?
Wrong!
Once again, inhuman would be the best way to describe Lock's performance. As despite doing a similar amount of physical work, her energy reserves appeared to be so vast, it edged into the plane of limitless.
Hell, she barely looked out of breath afterwards, meanwhile I was a big pile of human glop, heaving away on the ground in hopes that more oxygen would somehow make the pain in my chest lessen a little bit.
But of course, she didn't stop there either.
Oh no, that would have been too easy no doubt.
Next on our apparent to-do list was more strength training, and for added flair, the obstacle course.
Thankfully, this time she didn't bring out her paintgun. Instead she opted to simply make me re-run the course every single time I failed to complete an exercise in time, or didn't reach the number of reps required for an exercise.
Which at first seems like an improvement, until you realized that due to the last few hours of exercises, you will most likely fail quite a bit. Resulting in ever more running, and even more exhaustion, and even more failed exercises.
At which point you begin to almost miss the paintgun, because at least those were potentially dodge-able, and stung for a relatively short period of time.
Whereas re-running the course all the time results in my legs feeling like they had hot coals strapped directly to them the entire time.
Trust me when I say it's about as fun as it sounds.
Now by this point, I physically done for.
My arms were shaking, my legs were trying to give out on me, I felt like I needed to puke, and deep down, I knew that any more of this, and I would probably end up seriously hurting something worse than just my pride.
Which is why the decision to immediately test my rifle skills, or rather my lack of them at that moment, was a bit of an odd choice.
But Lock was not to be denied, so off to the range we went.
Let me tell you, it did not take me long to disappoint her.
Dozens of misses, a failed series of multiple position shooting drills, and at least four different breaches of firearms safety due to exhaustion speaks volumes about ones firearm proficiency after all.
Needless to say, she was not happy.
She did finally relent a little though. Hell, she was even kind enough to dismiss me for the rest of the day. Or did I just black out? Can't really remember too clearly at this point.
Tell me though that I'm not crazy for thinking that all that just felt completely unnecessary though.
It was honestly like she simply decided that today was the best day to make me reconsider my opinion that physical pain is much easier to deal with than mental pain.
And this was her argument.
There really wasn't any other viable opinion either. She didn't remember me. That much I was certain of, so she couldn't be tormenting me again. And then even if she did remember me, why wouldn't she have said anything? She not the kind of person to keep quiet about that sort of thing.
No. It is very clear this was a new game altogether.
I mentally groaned, as my head began to throb from a combination of dehydration and information overload.
She had given me too much information to sift through, too many thoughts to analyze, and too many behaviours to decipher. Sadly, it was becoming very clear that she was far too complex of a person to figure out in one night.
"Of course she is," I muttered absentmindedly, fluffing the pillow beneath me again, resigning myself to this fact, and preparing once more for sleep. "Lord knows she can't be anything but a pain in the ass."
I took a deep breath, and shifted one last time only my side. Resigned to at least try and get some sleep tonight.
Thankfully with the physical exhaustion quickly setting in, I knew it was only a matter of minutes until sleep took over and I passed out. Good thing too, else these thoughts of her would have probably kept me up all night.
Soon enough though black was all I could see, and soon after that, nothing at all.
I awoke to the smell and sight of blood.
It coated my uniform and flowed out of the wounds in my legs. Splashing more and more red into the mud below me, no matter how much pressure I tried to put onto the wounds.
Fiery pain ripped thought my body with each passing second, earning a piercing scream from me each time my body shivered or moved even a minuscule amount.
Corpses littered the trenches around me, blank faced and unmoving as they laid there in the mud. Blood still dripping out from their obviously lethal wounds.
"Not again." I cried desperately. Throwing myself forwards despite the protest of my legs, and attempting to crawl towards where I knew my friends had be positioned.
Pain rippled through my body with each movement, but I knew I had to keep moving. I had to try and save them.
"Please," I begged every god in existence. "Please let me make it."
Redoubling my efforts, I crawled for what seemed like hours amidst the chaos and blood.
Finally rounding the corner just in time to see a grenade go off.
"NO!" I screamed, watching helplessly as shrapnel and fire engulfed them both. Tossing their bodies aside like sacks of garbage.
"No no no no". I gasped, crawling as fast as possible to the two of them. "Not again."
"Not again!" I cried desperately, as I neared their bodies.
A soft thud drew my attention to a second grenade, as it landed right next to their prone bodies.
"Not again!"
My body instinctively bolted up, nearly throwing me off the bed altogether in my haste.
I felt a cold sweat break out, and my lungs begin to heave as my body continued to be ravaged by the panic and fear that the night terror had elicited from me.
Night terrors. They tell you about them in therapy sessions once in a while. Explaining a lot of their effects, and how to handle them. Nothing can prepare you for the actual event though.
To feel like you're dying or to be forced to relive your most traumatizing memories again and again, is a hell in of itself.
It's a fate I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Not Lockdown, not my enemies, no one.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted to focus entirely on slowing my own breathing down as much as possible.
Rhythmic breathing as they call it, was one such exercise therapists show you as a way to control the fear that takes over your body.
Ten seconds in, ten seconds out, ten seconds in, ten seconds out. Repeat the cycle until you feel back in control. Simple and surprisingly effective, it was my go-to exercise in the event of night terrors.
Soon enough, the shaking stopped.
Not long after, I began to feel like my body was once again back in my own control. It was an aggravatingly slow process, but eventually I did feel relatively back to normal.
Well, as normal as things get I suppose.
Sadly though, I knew from experience, that the chances of me getting any more sleep tonight were as good as zero.
That left me with two choices. Lay lethargically in bed until it was finally time to get up and get my ass kicked by Lock again, or get up right now and attempt to do something to help get my mind off the dream.
Something mind numbing and mentally exhausting preferably. Something that would take a long time and keep me occupied until morning.
Something like, say, mapping out the strange and massive complex that I found myself in.
I grinned a little at that thought. I had been meaning to explore XCOM little more after all.
With that goal in mind, I began the process of getting out of bed, dressing myself, and retrieving my journal and quietly slipped out of my room with notebook and pen in hand not two minutes later.
Absentmindedly flipping to a new page and beginning a small sketch of the hallway, I made my way away from my room.
Walking with a deliberately slow pace, my mind was quickly consumed by the task at hand as I slowly sketched my way forwards.
I didn't take any notice of the security guard who gave me a funny look, or the scientists who attempted to scope out what I was doing.
Nor did I notice a certain white haired Sergeant as she left her own room, a troubled expression of her own arched across her face.
Something, Something, Something, 2024
(What is time?) Hours
Journal entry 348:
Hey guys. Been a little while since you last heard from me. I am really sorry for writing so infrequently, but it's been a little crazy down here. Well, maybe a little more than a lot, actually.
Right now my scheduled doesn't really allow for too much downtime, as I have physical training and conditioning with Lock for five days straight, then two days of mostly tests and scientific shit. So my free time has been sadly limited.
Speaking of which, I have a test scheduled in about fifteen minutes so I'm going to have to keep this entry brief.
First off, you remember how I said I had been transferred to this amazing new program called XCOM? Well I'm still here, somehow, and the plans and date for my genetic modification surgery have been finalized.
That's right. It's really happening guys. I'm finally going to be able to make a difference. In a little under three months, I'm finally going to be able to follow through with my promise to you both.
Sadly, I still have literally no idea what the process will be like, as Lock and the Lab rats, have been very tight-lipped about the subject. I know it's probably due to something in the contracts they all no doubt had to sign to work here, but it's frustrating to deal with nonetheless.
From what I have been able to gather however, from various documents and snippets of conversations that I sneaked out, they basically used some new material called MELD to splice my DNA with some different alien and animal DNA. Thus apparently generating in me, very specific traits from those specific creatures. Crazy right?
No I don't know what traits they want to manifest in me just yet, but I'm sure whatever it is, it will be AWESOME!
Moving on down the line, training, as usual, has been pure hell. You remember when I first started writing, how bad I said cryo training was? Well this is somehow just as bad.
Lockdown is honestly, the most brutal and aggravating instructor I have ever been faced with. And what's worse is I feel like she's somehow getting worse and worse as the days go on. Hell, even the mental drain from this training is getting to be just as brutal as the physical drain. And yes, it has been getting harder and harder, to keep my emotions in check. Let's just hope she slows down a little in the coming weeks.
I also talked to the Commander again. He apparently wanted to see what I thought of the training and facilities so far, which is a little bit suspicious. I would have thought someone in his position would have at least a dozen more important things to worry about.
Granted, if I am actually as important as he made me seem, I suppose my well-being would be rather high on his priorities. Else that time he used talking to me would be a, waste of lives so to speak.
And before you ask, yes I did end up asking what was up with Lock. As expected though, he didn't exactly answer anything. However, he did reveal to me some very interesting facts, like Lock being the very first human subject to undergo genetic modification.
I know it doesn't exactly explain her bipolar attitude or really anything, but still it is still a rather interesting piece of information.
I'll have to ask her about that sometime, maybe get some more insight into what life with modifications is like, though preferably during a moment when I'm sure she is not going to physically murder me.
I should also mention, that I finally got around to retrieving the files that the Commander had lent to me. And yes, I do mean the files which I so brilliantly forgot to bring with me after our first meeting. Not my finest moment, I will agree with you on that one. However they are now safely stashed in my apparently lockable desk, waiting for me to delve into their pages. More on that when I get the chance to actually you know, read them.
Now I hate to say this but I really do have to run. The lab rats hate to be held up. Especially Mat. Fucking creep he is.
Hope you're all doing well, and I'll try to write again soon.
Cheers
Today's Date, 2024
Way to late Hours
Journal entry 371:
Hello again
So today was my "day off", and instead of wandering around and mapping more of the facility with Lisa like usual, I decided to sit down and finally read through those files the Commander lent to me a while back.
Turns out they were exactly as I suspected. Meticulously detailed, physical and mental files of all my future squad mates. Who while I have now met once or twice, have sadly been on active duty or away from the base, for the entire time I have been here so far.
I really wish you guys could meet them though. Would make it a hell of a lot easier, to explain what I mean when I say that these people are absolutely the real deal.
Though I guess I can try and give you a quick run down of them anyways. Lord knows you guys are probably bored of hearing about training and XCOM non stop.
Anyways, lets start with the squads second in command, Shane.
Shane Ace Weaver
Rank - Staff Sergeant
Nationality – Scottish
Height - 6'5"
Age - 51
Eye Color - Pale blue
Weight - 206 pounds
Build- Tall, Solid, Brick shit house
Hair – White, natural
Facial hair – Short, cropped beard, white, natural
OK so this guy is the definition of bad ass, old man. His military record shows that he participated in several combat tours at the start of the war, before being picked up by XCOM about a year ago.
What it doesn't tell you though, is that he has been participating in missions classified above top secret for almost his entire career. Apparently most of those previous tours he did, were long term behind enemy lines kind of shit. So you know he has a lot of combat experience to fallback on if shit hits the fan.
The crazy thing though is when I met him, he seemed like the most stable of the bunch. Which makes some sense as he is second in command, but is also a bit disconcerting. I mean for a guy who has lost about three squads worth of men and woman, he certainly seems relativly normal. Or maybe I just completely misread him, and he's as bat-shit crazy as the rest of them.
Either way, I really don't want to piss him off.
Holly Closure White
Rank – Specialist
Nationality – Australian
Height - 5'8"
Age - 22
Eye Color - Green
Weight - 171 pounds
Build - Lithe, lean, athletic
Hair - Pixy cut, blonde with brown streaks
This girl is actually insane. Seriously. She was all smiles, laughter and good cheer when I met her, yet her combat files reads like the rap sheet for a notorious serial killer.
Multiple breaches of conduct, several instances of insubordination and one instance of bringing an aliens head back as a souvenir. Hell, she was literally kicked out of the army for being too extreme in her killing methods.
And now she's somehow at XCOM, and has been given free rain of their armory. What could possibly go wrong right?
Granted, that all said, knives, shotguns, explosives, anything close quarters, she is your girl. Probably the single best CQB expert I have ever laid eyes on. Even if she is a tad bit mentally unstable.
Park Chip Ma
Rank – MEC Specialist
Nationality – Japanese
Height – 5' 11"
Suit Height -10' 2"
Age - 25
Eye Color - Light brown
Weight – 240 pounds
Suit Weight - 2240 pounds
Build – Compact, MEC
Hair - Short cropped Black
Jeff Psycho Hall
Rank – MEC Specialist
Nationality – Egyptian
Height – 6' 6"
Suit Height - 11"0"
Age - 32
Eye Color – Grey
Weight – 322 pounds
Suit Weight - 2423 pounds
Build - Massive, Larger than life, MEC
Hair - Short buzz, black
Nicknamed the Bash Brothers, these two monsters are the front line tanks for the team.
You want a building gone? They will literally demolish it in a matter of seconds. You need a shield? They will tank hundreds of rounds without even flinching. Just ask, and you shall revive.
On missions, they are, and I quote, "An unstoppable duo of mayhem and destruction". Off the field though, they hail from completely different worlds.
Jeff was apparently a former convict, and the first MEC pilot in the world. He was a death row inmate who apparently expressed interest in redeeming himself for the crimes he committed.
XCOM, recruited him to become a test subject for the MEC program, and after having all his limbs removed and replaced with SUIT link-able prosthetics, he was given two options. Either go back to death row, or fight against the aliens alongside XCOM, for as long as he lives. Seems he wasn't a big fan of sitting around in a cell waiting to die.
Chip on the other hand has a very cut and dry story. He volunteered for the MEC program after finding out he couldn't join the regular army due to some physical restrictions.
Once his training was complete, and he was deployed however, he went on an absolute rampage. Racking up a record number of enemy kills in a matter of weeks, and showing himself to be one of the best damn MEC pilots the world had ever seen. He was recruited into XCOM after only two months in the normal army.
So. Hopefully that gives you both at least some idea of who I'm joining up with. I'll explain a few of them more in detail next time, but right now I gotta run.
Lock just knocked and apparently the lab rats want more tests done. The greedy bastards they are.
Anyways until next time, Cheers.
Fuck everything, 2024
Who gives a shit Hours
Journal entry 394:
Fucking Hell, I am mad.
She finally did it. She cracked my shell.
After weeks of her practically torturing me, running laps around me like they were nothing, and humiliating me again and again, in front of the lab rats, security, Lisa, and even the janitors, she finally got what she wanted.
I finally, fucking, snapped at her. And yes, it was as bad as it sounds.
The entire thing happened yesterday, while we were running through the re worked obstacle course for what felt like the billionth time that day.
See recently, she's taken a liking to running the course with me, which is all well and good until she decided to apparently turn and spartan kick me off the damn thing for falling too far behind.
I don't know why, but for some reason that was the last straw in my mind.
She had been lording her physical superiority over me for long enough, so I snapped at her. Right when she came down to help me out of the pool.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I bellowed, practically shaking from trying to contain my anger.
Lock, to her credit, had the decency to look even a bit confused by my words, though that was probably due to the fact that she hadn't seen me talked back to a superior officer since that incident with the Commander when I first arrived.
"You let your guard down." She stated slowly, eyeing me cautiously as she spoke.
"Of course I did! Right now I barely have the strength left to swim properly, let alone defend myself! What exactly did you expect to happen after five days of this shit?!" I screamed into her face, feeling my fists clench hard and harder together as I yelled. "You're my commander! I trusted you to not be a complete asshole! And what do you do?! You fucking round house kick me off for being a second too much behind you!"
Her eyes opened a little at the mention of trust, but I was too far gone to notice the subtle change.
"You know full well you're stronger, faster and overall superior to me! You know I can't physically keep up with you! So what actual the fuck is your problem, huh?! Do you get off on being better than me?! Do you enjoy lording your superiority over me?! Is that it?!" I raged, watching as her expression turned colder and colder, with each word I bellowed.
"That is enough Private." She coldly stated. Her posture going ridged, as she snapped back into her Leader Persona as I call it.
"No," I growled, clenching my teeth as I spoke. "No it is not. You do not get to just stand there and judge me when you know nothing of the pain you have put me through."
I felt the temperature drop around us as her glare deepened. "What did you just say, Private?" She snarled out, her own fists beginning to clench.
"I said You. Know. Nothing. Of. Pain." I rumbled, matching her glare and abusing my height, to try and tower over her as I spoke. "Your modifications make everything so god damn easy, it's sickening! You've probably forgotten what all this bullshit even feels like to us normal people!"
"You," she screamed. "You don't know shit about me!"
"You're right! I don't! Not because I don't want to, or haven't tried to learn, but because you refuse to tell me shit!" I hollered right back. "But! I do know that if you had even the slightest clue of how much pain you're responsible for, you wouldn't treat anyone else like this. Anomaly."
A spark of recognition flew through her expression, and her glare softened just a fraction.
I let out a deep breath, before turning away. "When you can prove to me you know pain like I have, then you can talk to me."
I left immediately after that. Haven't seen hide nor hair of her since either, so no doubt tomorrow morning is probably going to very weird. I guess it can't be helped though, it was bound to happen eventually.
Also I think she may have figured out where it was we met before. I mean her old nickname was one hell of a hint after all, but who knows for sure with her. All I can say is, if she did remember, then hopefully she has the decency not to bring it up again. That was a bad time, and lord knows the further away from it I can get, the better.
There is some good news from all this though. I only have a few more weeks till the gene modding is ready to go. And well after that she is stuck with me, till death do us part. For better or for worse I suppose.
Lord knows she can do a lot of damage in a few weeks though, so I guess we will just have to wait and see.
Here's to hoping.
Cheers.
