"Then let us start where all stories must. The beginning"

She was silent for a moment, Mycroft wondering whether she had decided to go back on her prior decision until she let a small breath pass her lips and began to speak, never knowing how her next words would affect the man before her.

"We start before my conception; it is easier to comprehend the truth when you know what was suffered before. Baskerville had decided to carry out a new sort of testing, a desire to create a weapon that no other could ever comprehend, one that could move freely without ever being thought as suspicious. A human. The government was more than happy to back the notion in secret, the idea of such a weapon all too tantalising. Before me, there were a total of one hundred and seventy-two test subjects, each varying in age, race and gender, from children as young as five, taken from orphanages under pretence of a new life, to men and women aged fifty. Each subject died due to the horrendous experiments they were subjugated too, their bodies incapable of handling such pressure.

And that was when Dr. Meredith Bower came forward with a new idea, one that no other had dared to think of before due to its questionable ethics. Impregnate her with the next test subject, alter and manipulate the genes of the unborn child so that, once born, it's body would hold a natural strength to the added pressures. That child would later prove to be me"

Nova's fist clenched upon the arm of the chair, Mycroft hearing the wood splinter beneath her strength as she thought of the woman she sadly knew to be her mother. It was a small mercy to know that she would never have to see her face again.

"I was born on June 16th 1985, at approximately 8AM. my mother instantly gave me up for experimentation, not caring for me in the slightest. I was merely a means to an end for her to hopefully see a successful conclusion to all the experiments and mutilations they had carried out. From the moment my first cries were heard, there were needles and drips placed into my flesh. I was given no name, only known as subject 173, because of how many had died before me. There was only ever one person who gave me a name of my own, shared only between us as a sign of his care for me.

My mother was granted the privilege of being the one to carry out the majority of my torture, due to her part in my birth and the gratitude of the other scientists for her success in her plan. When I was older and more capable of understanding, she expressed to me how much she enjoyed causing me pain, admitting that she had never had any love for children in general and that I would never be any different. She took great happiness with pumping the chemicals into my bloodstream, hearing the screams of sheer agony I would give as she forcibly enhanced my muscle mass, delighted in how she would mutilate my immune system, the structure of my cells that controlled the heal rate of my flesh before injuring me to see how well her experiments had succeeded"

Mycroft felt an anger begin to burn within the pit of his stomach at Nova's words. What mother could do such a thing? Weren't mothers meant to have an inbuilt mental faculty that caused them to protect their children at all costs? But then, he had met Dr. Bower in the early days of his career in the government, apparently too late to stop such an experiment, she had been a truly awful woman. Concerned only with her career and how to climb the ladder. There was nothing she wouldn't have done, no matter who she hurt, to succeed.

"At the age of twelve, it became apparent that my ability for… let us call it hyper regeneration, was fully formed and in no need of further improvement. I could take stab wounds and bullets without fear, they could mutilate me beyond recognition and my skin would simply stitch itself back together as if I had never felt the kiss of a blade or the sting of a bullet. From there, they began the process of my other faculties"

Pointing towards her right eye once more, Mycroft understood what she meant as she carried on with her story.

"I was fully conscious, Mr. Holmes, when they removed my eyes and began the process of making them bionic, a procedure they then adapted for my hearing. Why offer me the peace of drug fuelled sleep when they need not fear me going into hypovolemic shock from the pain and blood loss, death ceased to be a factor of concern. My comfort meant nothing to them.

Due to the procedure, my eyes can predict your movements, even your expressions, before you have fully decided upon them, I can see you fighting the urge to clench your fists by the miniscule twitching of your knuckles, can read the rage you fight to hold back as you listen to me speak by the single crease upon your brow. My eyes are almost like a computer, there is very little in this world that they cannot process into data.

I am not a human being anymore, I doubt I ever have been. You questioned how I was able to reach you so quickly when you fell on the treadmill, it's simply because of my muscle enhancements. My strength is beyond what my body should be capable of, concrete becomes like butter beneath my fists. I can hear and see more than your human eyes and ears ever will. And I truly hate it"

She chose that moment to stand, allowing him to see her in the new found glory of the information she had given him and, for a reason he could not decode, she appeared more beautiful for her reality. Perhaps it was the weariness he could see in the tragic smile she gave him, or maybe how she still tried to hold herself with pride even though it was clear that she truly didn't feel it. Either way, he found himself standing also, towering over her deceptively small height as she finished what she wished to say.

"I have quenched your curiosity, Mycroft. But there is more to be told than what I am truly not ready to share. The things I have told you are ghosts that I have long since laid to rest, but the personal matters are a very different story… Ones that I am not ready to face yet"

He nodded. Yes, he could understand her need to keep some secrets but that did not make him any less curious.

"For what it is worth Miss Nova, I will always view you as a human being. You are not a test subject any longer, you have your own choices and free will, I will never take that from you as so many others have done before"

"And, for what it is worth Mr. Mycroft, my name isn't Nova. Call me what my only friend knew me as: Hazel"

And there it was again, that worrisome warmth that spread through both their beings as she finally gave him a smile that meant something, his returning one feeling strange upon his own face as they took their seats once more and began the process of small talk.