Sherlock awoke, but not to the world he once knew. He was reborn in to the heart of World War III; the heart of a raging hell.

He traveled to Canada in search of the only familiarity he could muster. He traveled the trampled lands, digging through the rubble in search of the war machine he met so many years ago. Unable to locate her, he took a job with a group of scientists working on advanced mechanics and war machinery. He had seen enough of Cyntax to know the basics of her engineering. He worked for years, going though endless drafts; every machine sub-par, none living up to his expectations.

He worked with two other scientists: Dr, Reed Cunningham, and Dr. John Yung. Together, they redefined the term Cyborg, creating biotechnology; robots powered by Human hearts. They had the appearance of Humans but the durability of robots. They named them Cybots. Each is unique; programmed with a different skill. Finally in the year 1597, the perfect robot was born. CybotGX97 model number 0014

Cyntax+.

When her photoreceptors flickered on to stare up at her creators, there was no recognition in her mind; no emotion. Programmed to kill, programmed to engineer; emotionless. That was the way she was meant to be. Sherlock knew that. There was nothing he could do.

After she was deployed, Sherlock lost the will to pursue robotics. Having abandoned his job, he was hunted by the US government. They were occupying Canada at the time and were the ones who had commissioned his weapons. He fled for some time but eventually gave in to his hunters. He had been in the war too long. It started to ware on him. He started to see why Cyntax+ was discussed by the Human race. He began to feel that way. So he surrendered.

They experimented on him, using a new genetic enhancing serum that was supposed to make him superior to the rest of Humanity. It did. He became a super soldier. Sherlock developed the strength of 10 men; speed of a horse, and near immortality. He was close to indestructible.

They called him Khan; an ancient word meaning war hero. And that's what he became. For many years he vanquished. With every passing day, his crew grew larger, his body count higher, and his heart colder.

The same words kept replaying in his head: "When you wake up and see the hell I've raised. Well, then you just might kill yourself. Do me a favour and make it something flashy. Like jumping off a building."

His soldiers pretended not to see when he hurled himself off of buildings. Every day, he tried to desperately to escape the hell he was forced to endure. Every time he woke to do it again.

Is this what you wanted Jim? Is this the hell you planned for me?

As blood pooled in the streets and stained the tattered uniforms of the genetically altered soldiers, fighting for one government wasn't enough. They became tainted with bloodlust, turning on their government, but never each other. United, they vowed to slay any and all who crossed their path despite country of origin. They became one unstoppable force bent on watching the world burn.

Seen as a threat, the crew was perused and one by one sent to the same fate, the only thing that could subdue them. Cryogenic sleep. Khan, being the strongest and most intelligent, was the last to go. He watched for years as the only people he had left to love were taken from him. By the time it was his turn, he didn't struggle. He was just happy to be free of this world. He slid in to the familiar dark space of the Criotube, praying that, this time, he wouldn't wake up.

The war raged on, the Human race dying out and rising again like a Phoenix from the ashes. Centuries passed, all along Khan and his crew sleeping beneath the earth.

Until they were discovered.