A/N:

A lot of folks have mentioned how packed the story is becoming, how much is happening at one time.
I believe I've addressed this before, but in case I have, I'll keep it short, and in case I haven't, I'll address it here - I'm aware of it.
Nothing you see in this story will be dropped, and everything that seems to have been dropped will be addressed at some point or another. A lot of the point of this story is to set up and flesh out the universe, much like how TFW set up and introduced Humanity.

That being said, I will work on making TSW flow a bit better, so bear with me, please.

Without further ado,

We're off!

Chapter 19

"Your life shall be a series of trials, one after the other until you attain the glory that is your due at the right side of the Emperor. You shall face the hardest first, so that we know we are not wasting our time."

— Chaplain Sighelm, of the Celestial Lions, Warhammer 40,000

April 20th , 2216

The first thing John S2-15 felt upon reobtaining consciousness was a chilling sense in his veins. It wasn't the biting cold of Sparta's north and south poles, nor was it the gradual cold that came from standing in front of an air conditioner. It was an odd, chilling feeling in his very veins that seemed to counteract the slight heat of the room he was in. He couldn't help but wonder, was this the augmentations acting? Or was it simply a bad coincidence?

Either way, his eyes opened and summarily experienced a brief sensory overload. The lights were brighter, the colors sharper, and the details far clearer than they had ever been in his entire life. John prepared to blink hard, but before his eyes had even twitched shut, they had adjusted, and all was well. He was lying upon a hospital bed, in the same surgery room he'd fallen asleep in, and he was looking up at the ceiling. John's new eyes could detect even the smallest of details upon the ceiling above him, he could see the lines between the sheets of metal, the bolts that kept them still, and even the texture of the metal itself, which was smooth and stained, so as not to reflect his new image back at himself.

John blinked, and after a second passed, he realized he could hear far better than he had used to. He could hear the ever faint hum of the station's reactors working tirelessly to provide it with its precious power. He could hear mechs walking the halls and a faint conversation between two muffled voices, that he couldn't make out the details of. John inhaled deeply, and felt an odd rush within his lungs, as if he'd inhaled much more air than intended, but it felt sublime, as if he should have been breathing this way his entire life. He exhaled, and felt the slightest tingling in his veins, though it quickly went away, being replaced with the chilling sensation.

For several seconds, John lay upon the table, getting used to his new body. After a quarter of a minute passed, John sat upright, slowly. Movement felt much easier now, and John felt more powerful in his movements. He raised his arms up to greet his augmented eyes, and could see the faded outlines from the surgical equipment, that had so meticulously carved into his body and changed it on a biological level. Experimentally, he clenched his fist as tight as he could. He felt much more power in this clench, as if he could crush a stone in his bare fist. He opened and closed his hand quickly, amazed at the speed with which he could perform the actions, far faster and far more powerfully than he could have done, previously.

John looked down at his bare torso, it too bore the scars of augmentation. But upon a second glance on it, and his arms, he realized how much more muscular and developed he looked. He looked like he had the body of a twenty year old MMA Fighter, along with the size of a professional basketball player. In short, he had been transformed from an above-average teen in to a perfect specimen of human physical development. John looked back at his chest, it was far more toned and muscular than it had been before. He clenched his abs and rapped his knuckles upon them, and found them to be harder than ever before.

After a few minutes of examining the body he would have to get used to for the next four years, John swung his legs over the table and made to stand up.

"Ah! Mister Two Fifteen! You have awoken!" Said the Station's AI, before its holographic image materialized like a wave of dust in the air. "How do you feel?" It had a woman's voice and body, wearing a simple Doctor's uniform, with her 'hair' brought up into a tight bun, and a pair of thin rimmed glasses secured firmly on her nose.

John considered the feelings in his clothed legs. He stood up, and stretched his muscles. He tapped his right foot on the ground a few times, and slammed one fist into the palm of the other, before he called forth his biotics. He didn't fail to notice the wide-eyed look the AI gave him when the fiery violet aura enveloped him, he himself was slightly surprised, they were far stronger than they had ever been before, and he actually had to make a concerted effort to bring them back down, it made him wonder where the Alliance had gotten the medical data required to augment his biotics - a field of human biology that had only existed for fifteen years.

"I feel…" John noted his voice sounded audibly deeper, "… Taller."

"Well, during your recovery, your accelerated bodily functions did in fact allow you to grow to two-point-one meters." The DocBot informed him. "I have a few tests I would like to run, before I show you to your armory." John nodded in response, and a flashlight lowered from the ceiling above, the tiles separating and rearranging themselves to accommodate the tool's arrival. "This should only take a moment." The bright light shined in his left eye, and then his right; like before, John's eyes adjusted almost instantaneously, to the point where the light barely even blinded him.

"Alright. Follow the lights on the ground, we need to test your physical abilities, make sure nothing has been irreparably damaged." She said.

John walked through the station, following the dark red lights on the floor. He passed by dozens of other surgery rooms, a vast majority of which held sleeping SIGMAs, still recovering from their Preliminary Augmentation Process. As John strode through the station, he still felt himself acclimating to the augmentation procedures' finer effects. His body was much more sensitive to his commands, and more than once he found himself walking far faster than he had consciously intended, and once or twice he found that the SimuSun lights were a bit brighter than they had been before he went to sleep. He also felt heavier, but he had known to expect that, with all that they were doing to him.

After several minutes, John found himself in the station's physical therapy ward, turned into an impromptu exercise wing. There were several practice dummies, many sets of weights, a treadmill, and many other things designed to test John and the other SIGMA II's newfound physical status. The AI, several doctors, and Ducard were all there to greet him.

Ducard nodded, and fired off a salute in response to John's. "At ease." John complied, "the AI already told you what we're testing here. Treadmill first." He nodded at the indicated machine, and John nodded in response.

John ambled onto the treadmill, which looked like it had been optimized to run at a far faster speed than other exercise machines of its caliber. John was instructed to set it to level five, which was half its maximum. John did so, and in just a few moments was jogging at a pace one and a half times the pace he would jog for his morning runs on Sparta.

"Running average speed without any signs of stress."

"Is this the fastest you can run, John?" Ducard asked, John's ears did not fail to pick up on the subtle tones of sincerity in Ducard's voice.

"No sir." John wasn't lying, the treadmill's speed indicator said he was running thirty three kilometers per hour, but it felt like nothing to him.

"Put it up to seven." John did so, and the speedometer climbed up to forty eight KPH.

"Average increased heart rate, slight perspiration."

"John?"

"Faster."

"Nine."

John hit the button, and the speedometer climbed even higher to sixty KPH. Ducard didn't even get the chance to speak, before John said he could go faster, so he was ordered to bring it up to ten, and with the maximum speed of eighty KPH reached, was when John began to feel his augmented heart thumping and his blood pumping. His heart was beating fast, and despite of the fact that he knew his blood would need more oxygen, John only felt the slight need to breathe heavier. John ran on the treadmill for five minutes before he was told to cut it off.

"Next you'll be running an obstacle course. Complete it as fast as you can." John walked to the start of the obstacle course, he could see a dozen obstacles sitting in front of him: the standard tires, monkey-bars, and a myriad of other such things.

Ducard gave the order, and John took off. He immediately noticed he was moving faster than he'd been on the treadmill, it seemed as if his body was adapting to the stress of activity and allowing him to act with more freedom and power. In twenty one seconds, John was at the end of the course.

"Twenty one point six." The AI reported, "fastest yet."

"We want to test your strength next. We'll add weights as long as you're comfortable, but take it easy, it's been several days since you've last tested your body." Ducard advised, guiding John to the weight machine.

John lay down on the machine and grabbed the bar, which already had two twenty pound weights on each side. John lifted the bar with ease, did five repetitions, before he put it back.

"Sir, requesting forty more pounds on each side." John said, and out of the corner of his eyes, and in perfect clarity, John saw Ducard pick up several more weights and add them to the machine. John did several more bench presses, but still found it to be far too easy. He requested a whopping sixty pounds be added to each side, and Ducard delivered. Here was where John had to begin putting effort into his bench presses, with one hundred and twenty pounds pressing down upon him. But still, John eventually found this to be too small scale, so he requested another sixty pounds, which Ducard delivered. Time went on, and John found his muscles being strained the most when he couldn't finish the third repetition of one hundred thirty pounds on each side. John did finish it after a few seconds of concerted effort, and placed the bar back on the bench.

"That's all I can do, sir."

"Alright." Ducard nodded, and helped the SIGMA Teen to his feet, "good job." Ducard's change in manner was jarring beyond words for the Two, the change from cold-hearted, brutal Commander to this thing that actually seemed to care confused him; was this perhaps a test? John decided not to let his guard down, lest Ducard decide to personally test his combat skills. "There's one more test for you, specifically." John didn't tense up, but he stared at Ducard intently, ready for anything. "Biotics." He gestured to the dummies, as John let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Break them. We've got this room shielded, so you won't damage the station."

"Are you requesting any specific attacks to destroy the dummies, sir?" John asked, to receive a shaken head from Ducard.

John nodded, and inhaled and exhaled deeply, preparing himself. He looked at the nearest dummy, and the farthest dummy. There were six, and the farthest one was just two meters away. He made his plan just as his feet propelled him forth. In an instant, he unleashed a debilitating warp that sailed forth at high speeds, to slam into the most distant target just a second after John's fist hurtled into the face of the closest one. The relative mass of John's fist, combined with the speed of his blow, and the strength behind his new muscles, simple destroyed the dummy's head. Using Vi-Contactus, John was at the next dummy in a second, and both of his palms were slammed into its metallic chest, putting a dent in it that could be visibly seen from the other side of the dummy. John roared forth to the next dummy, sending a Flare at the last, as he side-kicked this one in the chest. The flare exploded brightly and powerfully, as John's mass-increased foot slammed straight through the metal dummy.

John wrenched his foot from the dummy, and inspected his handiwork. The Warped dummy's head was torn apart, while the Flared dummy was simply missing its upper half. The dummy he was standing next to had a boot-shaped hole in its chest, while the Vi-Contactus dummy's chest was caved in. The first dummy he'd hit was missing its head, making for a veritable battlefield of destroyed dummies.

"Good." Ducard nodded, a slight amount of pride in his voice. "Now follow the AI, she'll take you to the Armory, where you'll be outfitted with your own, optimized Titan Armor." He said, as the door swished open, and John saw William S2-612, of Alpha Company, enter the room. The two exchanged a brief nod and a grin, and John passed him, as the AI's hologram guided him to the Station's armory. John knew that the armory had never been as filled as it had been for this event, and likely wouldn't be this full again until their Primary Augmentations.

John entered the Armory and saw that it was lined front to back with enormous armor pods, each one containing a set of Titan armor, optimized for the II's current physique. As opposed to the OD3 Heavy Powered Infantry Assault Armor, and the N7 Light PIAA, Titan Armor was as much a powered exoskeleton as an ape was a intelligent - that is to say, it wasn't. The uniquity of Titan armor came in how it augmented a man's strength - Jason McGraw had designed it specifically around SIGMA Augmentations. Whereas other powered armor suits would use servos and motors to augment a person's strength, and as such could feasibly be used by anyone, given the proper training, Titan armor did not use those machines to augment strength and as such could not be used by anyone. The synthetic muscles that Titan armor utilized were a technology that had existed in the early twenty first and twenty second centuries, but had been abandoned for various reasons, before finally being picked up again by Jason McGraw. In short, the Titan SynthMuscle suits augmented strength in such a way that punching through steel could be done with as much effort as ripping apart a piece of paper. The only problem was that wielding such power was, in a word, dangerous - even twitching the wrong way could pulverize one's skeleton if it wasn't reinforced like a SIGMA's was; as such, SynthMuscle tech was only available for use by SIGMAs, and it was largely the sole reason for many of the rumors and legends of SIGMA strength and prowess on the battlefield.

John found his armor pod after a few minutes of searching, and took a moment to marvel at its brilliance. It wasn't at all what Barton had explained that Titan Mk. 2 would look like, but John knew that the Mk. 2 was exponentially more powerful and more advanced than Mk. I, and as such it was very likely that the suit he was staring at was an optimized Mk. 1, and that the II's wouldn't see the Mk. 2 at all until they hit eighteen and had their primary augmentations. John stripped himself of his outerwear, and began the process of putting the armor on.

First came the torso of the Smart Skin Suit, which contained within its two layers the SynthMuscles that would give John his strength. After the torso came the feet and the gloves, and John waited a moment. The second the suit registered that he was wearing all of its pieces, is began to grow upon him. The torso piece's arms extended out to his gloves, and sealed onto them, as his pants sealed onto the feet and the torso. Then the suit compressed onto him, to make it as form-fitting as his own skin. The armored suit weighed several dozen pounds, due in part to the light armor plating that adorned it. But as John stretched, he found that it wasn't at all constricting, far from it, it felt as natural as his own skin. On a hunch, after doing a few stretches, John took hold of the suit on his left wrist and pulled, miraculously, the suit unsealed itself and uncompressed, acting as a sleeve now. John let go of the sleeve, which resealed and recompressed itself.

After he stretched in the suit, he gave the air a few light jabs, and immediately understood why so few Ones ever took them off - even in his slightest movements, he could feel the power rippling through his body. It felt almost euphoric, he thought, before he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, the more important thoughts were ran along the lines of how he would have to be even more methodic with his movements than he was before - not even considering his other body parts, he had the power of a jackhammer in his fingers, which meant that any movement could damage either himself or whatever was around him.

How will I even hold weapons, with a grip like this? He thought, idly wondering if there was a safety feature to keep him from crushing his weapons, as he leaned inside the pod and found his new, size-appropriate, fatigues.

John put the new fatigues on, starting with the pants, skipping the socks and boots, and fitting his shirt and overcoat on. The familiar black and red digital camouflage pattern might have seemed somewhat brutal to anyone else who saw it, but to John it screamed of home, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Now, as opposed to before, he didn't look like he was nude save for the solid black skin-suit, he instead simply looked like he would normally, the primary difference being his new height and the exposed bits of the suit on his neck and hands.

With everything back on, John could now begin the process of putting on the armor. Much like the suit it was designed after, the Optimized Mk. 1 looked fairly similar to a suit of armor one would find a medieval knight wearing, the only real aesthetic difference being the black and red color scheme, and the gas-mask helmet; John was aware that the Mk. 2 looked fundamentally different from the one, but he only had Barton's word on that. First to be fastened to his body were the boots, and John immediately began to piece together how deceptively simple it was to manipulate things with the skin-suit - it read the most minute electrical signals running through his body, so as long as he didn't really want to start smashing things or testing the durability of his armor, he just had to be gentle. After the boots came the shin and leg pieces. The Cod-Piece preceded the torso armor, which came before the tactical vest and the arm guards. Finally John slipped his fingers through the gauntlets, and reached for the helmet. He put it on, and the suit began booting up. First came the HUD, which immediately showed him his suit's primary functions. Within seconds, his Shields, bio-comm, motion tracker, and various other systems came on. It even synced up with the pistol, magnetically attached to the suit's thigh, and showed him his ammunition readouts.

John inhaled and exhaled deeply, before he picked up his boots and socks, and looked for a mirror. He found it, and marveled at the sight before him. His armor was thick and protective, and in the gaps between the leg plates and arm armor, he could see his fatigues peeking through. The mask shrouded his age and his face from him, and gave him the look of a cold professional. He hadn't truly considered what he would expect when he looked in the mirror, but what he saw filled him with a sense of pride he couldn't describe: Here he was, a fully armored, half-armed, and combat ready fourteen year old child, ready to slaughter untold thousands, for the rest of his life. John was a SIGMA II, fresh from his first augmentations. He felt like he was unbeatable, even now, before he received the Bio-Mechanical Augmentations which would make him unstoppable.

John nodded to himself, ready for the first time in his life, to fight for the rest of his life.

John spent hours in the Hospital's cafeteria, still clad in his armor, as he ate food that, while he'd heard on Earth was reputed to be horrible, was still better than the slop he was fed on Sparta. It felt like, somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd had better, but he couldn't remember when, and when he tried, the back of his head throbbed.

While his body was shoveling food into his mouth on auto-pilot, John's mind was focusing about other things entirely. He knew that, very soon, he would have to select SIGMA Teens to join him in Alpha Team, and that the best of those who remained would be a part of Omega Team. His very first instinct had been to select Justin and George, George could be more geared for heavy weapons and suppressive tactics, while Justin could be their Designated Marksman, with John being their all around fighter, close, medium, and long range wouldn't be outside of his range. They all complimented their strengths greatly, and made up for their weaknesses, but he knew that choosing his closest friends would be seen as weak, it might very well be the wrong decision in the long run.

So he began thinking of how he would see the analysis reports of the other Companies, see the others' grades. He knew he would need a Tech Person who could specialize in closer-ranged fighting, so putting George as his Second - while plausible - wasn't too wise, as he just above average with Engineer based work. He would also need an excellent Sniper as his third, and while Justin fit the bill for that, he was impatient and brash at times. Ducard had done an amazing job at hammering patience into the teen, but the simple fact of the matter is Justin may act unaccordingly in some situations, and that wasn't something he could afford.

John's Sniper would have to be someone who would be willing to lie absolutely still for hours, days even, to get the perfect shot. But Sniper would also have to be great with reconnaissance work, and a beyond amazing marksman. He knew of a few in his company who had the patience required, but their marksmanship lacked slightly. He had heard of a Hotel Company soldier who excelled greatly in his marksmanship and sniper trials, if John remembered correctly, the teen's designate was S2-82.

For his suppressive/tech man, John would need a SIGMA who was optimized for strength and close-quarters duties, but was amazingly efficient with tech and machinery. George was good, and John thought he might very well choose the man, but he had heard of a Charlie Company SIGMA who had reprogrammed a Turtle mech, wirelessly, to work for them during a training exercise, John didn't even have to try and remember which two it was - he knew that that one had been Designate S2-1, the SIGMA II's very own John Doe. This wasn't entirely a good thing, because it could suggest a reliance on tech that John didn't want. John wanted an Alpha Squad that could fight completely unarmed, and unarmored, against a superior force, and win, if the need arose. George was definitely big enough to fit that bill, and John knew for a fact that the only other SIGMA II out there that could exceed George's improvisational skills was John himself.

After finishing his meal, and staring deeply into the frosted golden visor of his helmet for several hours - time just melting away as he thought intensely - John eventually decided that he would test 82 on the required skills of a Sniper, and would make George and Doe-S2 compete on a Tech/Heavy test.

"John?" Came the familiar, deep and accented voice, though with his hearing now far better than before, John only now realized how much the big man's accent had dulled in recent years; Ducard would be proud.

John turned around and smiled a genuine smile as he saw George striding towards him, with a big, warm smile. George had gotten the luck of the draw in the size part of the augmentations, the big man had to be eight feet tall with the build of a mixed martial arts fighter. He wore his own optimized armor, the same as John's, but John noticed that the big man wasn't wearing any of the fatigues above his waist, as John saw the skin suit and not the black and red camouflage. John would have thought on the issue, but after only a moment's thought decided that everyone was entitled to their quirks - and if Ducard or any of the officers pressed it, George would put the coat on without a moment's notice.

"George." John smiled, getting to his feet and bringing his friend into a hug that would shatter the spine and pulverize the ribs of a lesser man, but was merely tight for the SIGMA Teens. "How long have you been awake?"

"Two hours." George said, after releasing John. "Was released from the Gym thirty minutes ago." George looked at his armor, and then John's. "we're soldiers now, John." He said, "doesn't that mean we can kill people?"

"It does." The horrific reality of what the fourteen year old boy had just said was completely lost on the both of them. "What do you think they're going to have us do?" John asked, glad for something to briefly take his mind away from the Alphas.

"Likely SERE exercises, or extended war scenario against the Ones."

"I've been assuming they would just toss us at the Rebels, do or die."

George shrugged, "wouldn't surprise me. Literally throwing us in to a battlefield is something they've only done to you." He grinned slyly, looking around as he did so.

The cafeteria was packed full of more than half of the SIGMA II's. In other, smaller stations, they would have had to begun spilling into the other recreation rooms, but Titan Med-Station was meant for enormous occupancies, the cafeteria could easily service seven hundred people. More II's were funneling in every quarter of an hour, almost routinely, but one thing that both John and George had noticed was a severe lack of Justin's presence. Usually, during one of the joint-activities with the other companies, he could be found chatting up the members of the other companies, forming groups to talk tactics, and so on, but right now, he was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Justin?" George wondered.

"Likely recovering."

"I… Possible, but -" George was cut off when the lights in the station suddenly went black.

"What the hell?!" Demanded a II.

"Is this some kind of test?"

"Everyone arm yourselves!" John shouted over the slowly rising din, his voice carrying over the sudden many people who were beginning to talk at once, and easily permeating through the augmented hearing of every recently augmented Child Soldier present. John snatched his helmet off of the table and settled it on his head. The HUD booted up instantly, and laid a bluish white outline over the environment, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He saw everyone around him, even without the help of the HUD, as it marked them all in green outlines. He noticed, just before the emergency lighting turned on, that the familiar humming of the station's reactors had ceased. He realized, just as everyone was bathed in dark red light, that a station's reactor failing almost never happened. Even if it was a training exercise, they still would have heard the reactor, the power simply would have cut off. The gravity would still be present, but the power cut off.

John tested this theory, and lo and behold, after he slammed his right foot into the ground, he was propelled upwards. George noticed this, and upon grabbing his arm, he shouted "gravity's down!"

John, upon hitting the ground and activating his magnetic boots, spoke loudly and clearly, "we're under attack! Form up your squads, our priority is getting to our brothers still in recovery!" John grabbed George and searched for an ID Tag in his HUD. After six seconds he found it, "Eighty Two! Craig S2-82, front and center!"

In an instant, the SIGMA Teen in questioned launched himself through the gravity-less room and landed in front of John and George. "Reporting."

"I'll give you the quick version. Before we went under, I was made Squad Leader of SIGMA II Alpha Squad. Yes, the Alpha Squad. Consider this your trial by fire, we're hitting the armory." John ordered, "George -" George snapped to attention, "- I want you as our Heavy Weapons." George saluted in response, "Craig, you're our Designated Marksman. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" Came both of their voices.

John decided not to mention that none of them even had ranks, yet. "Don't use names over the radio, only ID Numbers." The two Alphas nodded, "let's go! Form up on me -" He cut his voice to broadcast over the SIGMA Comms, "the rest of you, the armory isn't big enough to equip us all. I want all of you moving as your squads to assist and protect our sleeping brothers. After hitting the armory, Two-Eighty Two, Two-Sixty Six and I will look for Commander Ducard! Maintain anonymity, whoever is attacking - be it testing SIGMAs or unknown enemies - cannot know our names." John was met with a rousing round of acknowledgments.

In mere minutes, the SIGMA Teens that were all awake and moving, were quickly making their way through the powerless Titan Medical Station. John, George, and Craig were using the lack of gravity to their advantage, and were literally soaring through the station as freely as a bird in quarter ton power armor. They all kept eyes on their motion trackers, as while they were making great time and, in just a few minutes, had traversed half the station, they knew that whoever was attacking would likely be using the same tactics as them, for travel, thus: they would be big targets on the motion trackers.

What was interesting for John, was that it wasn't the motion tracker that tipped him off that there was a presence around the corner they were hurtling towards - although it did help after a split second had passed and he checked it. In reality it was his newly augmented ears, that had picked up the ever-so-light clunk of magnetic boots hitting the ground. Obviously whoever had sealed himself to the ground had done so with stealth in mind, and must have been doing so with SIGMAs in mind as well, as John had almost not heard it; but almost was the operative word.

With a single hand-motion, John ordered his squad to get down to the ground. To do so, John - lightly - slapped the ceiling above him, and oriented his body so that his feet would be touching the floor. Upon contact, his magnetic boots activated and kept him anchored. It was an odd feeling, being in complete zero gravity, but it wasn't entirely unfamiliar, John and his company had done Zero-G training before - if push ever came to shove, the enemy's position was down.

John had his weapon out in his right hand, and had his suit's integrated Smart Watch set ready to fabricate a HardLight weapon on a single motion's notice. The SIGMA Teens slowly, carefully, and silently crept forward. They made it just a few feet before the corner before John ordered them to freeze, the enemies were moving.

The enemies rounded the corner, and for barely an instant there was silence. They could obviously tell someone was in front of them, but they couldn't see the SIGMA Teens' finer details. The SIGMA II's, however, had their augmentations on their side, and saw everything about them.

George spoke first, "Rebels!"

John spoke next, "open fire!"