Edited: 01/18/16

Chapter 5 – On the Principles of Defeat

"Be careful that victories do not carry the seed of future defeats." - Ralph W. Sockman

Ghosting through the arena, IX took the time between opponents to explore the battlefield. It didn't take long for him to realize he was not the first to be tested in the space. Large splashes of flakey rust accented the cement. IX didn't need a closer look to recognize old blood. Delicate looking fingers traced a set of three long, precise cuts in one of the shipping containers. He studied the marks, examining their clean lines. Most of the marks were accompanied by dry pools of old blood.

Now familiar with the layout, IX returned to the high ground, positioning himself near the first two kills. Just as the corpse of the woman had been the downfall of the giant, IX assumed the pair would give the next opponent pause, leaving them open to attack. Light glinted off the small blade held between his practiced finger tips, waiting to find its mark.

"Come on," Cutler growled, opening the holding cell where X was kept when it wasn't being tested. The beast paused its restless pacing before following like an obedient dog. Well, I guess it's better than when it was a zombie, Cutler's disgruntled thought made his lips pull back in a sour grimace. He led X through the corridors. During stage two, when X wore the helmet, it had shuffled along like a dead thing out of a horror flick, at least until it was given the command to kill. Then it moved like quicksilver in a savage dance of death that nothing could stand against. We'll see who comes out on top this time, the animal, or the psycho-kid. When the mind control helmet finally came off, X was more like a caged panther than a zombie. Those predatory sable eyes tracked anything that moved, and even though it wouldn't attack until so ordered, its muscles would flex under tan skin, ever ready to leap into action. It was damned freaky, and Cutler hated the fact that his advanced level of clearance made him the 'prep the weapon' guy.

And now they have this new one, which is even freakier than X. Damned eggheads really topped themselves this time. Cutler didn't know what it was about the kid that bothered him so much more than X. Perhaps it was because when an enemy saw X coming, they damn well knew their asses were toast. But the kid, he was something else. Assassin. That was it. The little bastard was nothing more than a shadow stalker, something any good soldier, even an ex-soldier such as himself, found repulsive. IX wasn't a fighter, he wasn't honorable, and he didn't give his opponents a sporting chance to defend themselves. No one can stand against X, but at least they see death coming and have a chance, no matter how small, to make peace with it.

The second difference between the two weapons that made Cutler favor X was that all one had to do was look at him to see he was a threat. The boy looked so damned innocent. His delicate frame and large green eyes, though blank, were captivating in a way that made a person think of a lost kitten in the woods. Yet any who dared reach down to stroke it, would find poisoned fangs buried in their arm before they knew the danger existed. It was disconcerting to see the fragile young man so effortlessly kill. Damn the scientists anyway.

He paced the small confined space that had become his cage. Each restless circuit did little to blunt his fierce instinct to prowl. The heavy chains on his mind kept the blades that would have freed him secure in his flesh. Instead he paced, waiting for the next time he could hear the blades sing, and let the blood-lust reign free, unfettered by his masters. The endless motion stilled when the heavy steel door slid open with a low hiss.

Scent, the sharp tang of lemon from the soap favored for removing blood, leather from the holster of the useless weapon, the bitter stink of fear, carefully controlled. Brown locked on blue, revealing the creature's insatiable blood-lust as they pinned the guard in place. Natural instinct screamed at the sandy haired man to run, run and never look back even as his spine pricked, already feeling those deadly claws slicing through his flesh. The large scar on his side where he'd tasted the deadly edge of X's weapons tingled from the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. Blue skittered away, even bound as X was by the orders keeping it contained, Cutler couldn't win a staring contest with the weapon. It was too much like looking at his own death.

"Come on," Cutler commanded, leading the way to the arena. He left behind the thick stench of fear all who worked closely with the weapon, especially any who'd had to clean up after it was finished testing, experienced. The new contingent of guards didn't understand Cutler's skittishness when it came to X, but then again, they'd never been hunted by the beast. It was one thing to clean up the mess left behind when X had its fun with a few convicts. It was something else again when you heard those terrible claws wrench through five inches of steal, and knew unstoppable death was stalking the halls.

Thank God above that the damned eggheads finally got control of it, at least now we don't have to worry about it going ape shit any time there's a hiccup in the power, Cutler thought when he opened the door to the arena, and ushered his charge into the room with one final command "Don't kill this one," he said firmly. It was the first time X had been given such a command. He was a search and destroy weapon after all, but it wasn't Cut's problem if the weapon didn't get it.

Unlike previous subjects, Cutler turned and ran for the stairs to the observation station. No way in hell he was going to miss this battle. Let the brat face something he can't off in one hit, that'll put him in his place.

Cutler was a betting man, and he'd already laid down a twenty that X would wipe the floor with IX, no way could the boy win. Then again, he hadn't expected him to take out the last convict with such ease. It doesn't matter, IX's never faced anything like X before. The thought caused Cutler's foot to hesitate on the stairs. Was it true? The way the kid moved, how well he handled those knives. It was impossible for someone to throw a blade with that kind of accuracy without a lick of training. What had the scientists done to create IX? It was clear after the last two demonstrations that it hadn't just been the boy's body altered in the green goo. He shrugged, even if they designed to tell him what they'd done, it would probably go over his head.

X stalked into territory more familiar than the little room they always returned him to after the killing was done. His nostrils flared. The scent of fresh death caused his blood-lust to surge, darkening his vision when he tasted the hot liquid lingering in the air. Fresh blood, fresh blood that hadn't been spilled by him. A low snarl curled his lips when he realized another predator was stalking his hunting ground. Shink, six glistening adamantium claws tore free, eager to cut the trespasser down and paint the walls red with his blood.

A predatory lope devoured the space between X and the downed prey. He'd get the spoor of the invader there. The heavy metallic scent of blood hid the subtler scent of the one he sought, but the other predator would have had to close with the prey to kill it. The scent would be strongest at the kill. It wasn't long before X entered the small clearing bracketed by four large containment units. There two bodies laid in an unceremonious heap. Blood formed a thick, congealing pool beneath them, but they weren't torn apart like X's victims often were. There was something almost clinical about the deaths, both precise and indifferent. Another snarl dripped from his parted lips.

The clawed man paced closer to the dead as he sought out the scent that didn't belong to either corpse. A scent, more subtle than the wind, and as implacable as shadow curled through his nostrils when something tangled in his thick hair. Before X could react to the unexpected attack, the almost light touch became a fierce jerk when the hand twisted, securing its grip. Small feet crashed into the larger man's back, and the hold on his hair yanked even tighter, forcing the mutant to his knees with the long line of his neck exposed to IX's dagger. Without hesitation, the sharp blade lashed out. The screech of metal on metal squealed through the arena when the dagger screamed off of the adamantium sheathed spine. A fountain of blood gushed from the bone deep wound, even as X's healing factor began repairing the damage. The large man toppled forward, choking on his own blood as it poured down his severed windpipe. IX leapt nimbly off the broad back, landing with feline grace a few feet away from his latest conquest.

Jaded green eyes studied the clawed man, making the connection between those long blades and the marks that littered the arena. Something akin to disappointment flashed through those flat orbs before it faded back to blankness. He'd expected more from someone who'd been tested more than once on the killing field. With an indifferent shrug, IX snaked back up to the top of one of the containers. His bare feet found purchase on the metal, and he'd learned long ago that he who had the high ground often proved victorious. They would be releasing the next target soon. Perhaps they will release more than one, IX hoped.

A low rumble snapped IX's head around to stare at the not so dead man.

Dark fury tore through X, growing with his returning strength. The pain of the blade, delivered before he'd even realized he was being stalked, spurned the beast and with a roar X leapt to his feet. A crimson tide of his own blood, so rarely spilled in this arena, painted his chest and dampened the already stained pair of jeans that sheathed his lower body.

Some slight sound, the scuff of a bare foot on metal, or the gentle rustle of breathing, drew the deadly gaze of the predator to the slight form hanging by fingers and toes to the edge of the container. The illusive scent, so startlingly free of fear, called to X, challenging him to try and defeat it. Green chipped ice locked on fiery brown and held. Alien thoughts twisted behind those poison green eyes, so different from blue, and brown, grey and black. They held none of the rage, the determination, or desperation that prior specimens offered. Even the most coldly calculating gaze could not sustain composure after the first altercation revealed X's unique talents. But deadly green, flat and lifeless just watched him, offering none of the prey instinct that made the chase so delicious.

Primitive thoughts raked his mind, acknowledging that this was the first true predator he'd been presented with. The others, no matter how strong or aggressive, had all been prey in the end. Animal instinct recognized what the other humans in this pathetic place failed to. Size was meaningless, what mattered was the potency of one's bite, and X recognized a fellow deadly creature at a glance. Primal excitement coursed through the weapon. After all the worthless creatures that fed his blood-lust, here was a real challenge. With another roar, X leapt.

Saber-like claws sank deep into the metal side of the container IX clung to. A delicate, palm length blade lashed out before X could get his balance, slashing the tendons of the left arm. Silvery metal glinted when the blade scored down to the bone, revealing just how indestructible his opponent was. Still, fear didn't flavor his scent, just cold acceptance. The hand went limp for the few vital seconds it took for IX to dart up to the top of the container. Screechhhh, claws tore through the place he'd been a second prior. Effortlessly, IX rolled to his feet and ran, leaping from container to container as he formulated a strategy for dealing with the threat.

Behind him, growling like a hell hound, X gave chase. His longer legs ate the distance between them at an alarming rate, and IX ran full out towards the edge of the last container. As the edge neared, IX calculated the distance before leaping. His slender body turned cat-like in the air, twisting so that he faced the container. Fingers darted out, catching the edge. An explosive grunt escaped the small body when his momentum attempted to yank him free of the container.

Just as X leapt after him, IX turned again and clung to the metal surface with one hand. A bare foot lashed out in a brutal kick to the side of X's head when his leap took him past IX's new position. The blow sent the elder weapon careening into the wall three feet away, and would have proved fatal to a lesser creation. IX kicked off the side of the container, and pulled both daggers as he fell. His slight weight was still enough to cause X's breath to explode in a pained bellow when IX landed on his exposed stomach. Using the fall to his advantage, IX drove both blades into X's large chest, shredding heart and lungs in one ruthless twist. The beast below him bucked hard enough to send IX flying into the wall. One of the daggers caught on adamantium sheathed ribs and was wrenched from IX's grip.

Another bellow escaped X, fury erupted when the slight male drew his blood for a second time. He tore the blade free before throwing it to the side. IX sprang to his feet, the second blade held in a reverse grip as he lashed out with unstoppable speed. The honed blade tore through X's abdomen, but instead of spilling his enemy's intestines as IX intended; the wound healed almost as fast as it was made.

Sometime during the chase, X's claws had retracted. The order not to kill clamped down on his mind like a choke collar. IX's attack brought him too close, and a large fist slammed into his side with enough force to bounce him off the wall, sending him to his knees. A muffled gasp was the only sound IX gave while he rolled with the force, and brought his leg up to slam a heel into X's knee. The bone didn't give, but as X stumbled back, a snarl curling his lips. IX knew he'd torn ligaments.

Wasting no time, the small assassin darted to his feet, a glint of silver was the only warning X had before one of the throwing knives buried itself to the hilt an enraged brown orb. This time, X keened in agony. He ripped the blade free, blood and thicker fluids gushed from the wound, but the pain was pushed aside. X launched himself at IX. The deadly shink of claws tearing free caused IX to turn, bringing the last dagger up in an attempt to block the blow that fell too fast to dodge.

The dagger was nothing in the face of X's enhanced claws. They cut through it like a laser, and as they continued their decent unhindered, IX's eyes locked on the shadow cast by the container. If only I were like the shadow men and could walk through the shadows, IX thought philosophically while death descended on him. Warmth tingled along the back of his spine, and before the blades scored his flesh, IX vanished, reappearing in the deep shadow cast by the container. He didn't hesitate, or question how, IX simply continued his assault. Minuscule blades flew, striking several vital points on X. Each was brushed off as bothersome mosquitoes, the wounds healing without care for the fatal nature of the placements.

"What happened?" The Professor snapped, he'd been seconds away from giving the order for X to stand down when IX vanished into thin air. Up until that point, the Professor had been quite pleased with the progress IX made. There was no doubt that if it wasn't for X's mutation, the weapon would have been defeated in the first altercation, or in any of the following ones. But, that was the terrible beauty of Weapon X. It continued on, relentlessly, until the target was destroyed. So far, of everything they'd thrown at X, IX had lasted the longest.

"Got him! He's behind X and continuing the assault," one of the techs exclaimed, pointing at the slender shadow, now lurking in the deeper shadows where little arrows of death winged out of the darkness and pelted the larger weapon.

"They work," Dr. Cornelius chortled after examining a readout that scrolled over his computer screen.

"What works?" The Professor demanded. His eyes didn't twitch in the doctor's direction, too focused on the battle below to risk missing a single move.

"The nano-technology. It funneled the power generated in his brain stem up to the higher level so that he could access it. I doubt he has any control over it at this point, but the technology is functioning properly, and with further testing we will learn the full scope of the subject's mutation." Dr. Cornelius said. He digested the data, his mind already working out further tests and concepts to try. This was the first time the subject had teleported, but if the initial reports were correct, then he could also create fire, and heal himself. The mutation was the most unique one Cornelius had witnessed, and he had little doubt that the green eyed mutant had more in store for them.

"Excellent."

X stood frozen for the space of three heart beats. The little predator had vanished, leaving a near intoxicating scent of thrumming power behind. It was like the shadows were streaked with lightning, and somewhere inside the beast recognized a power greater than itself. The sharp scent of smoke on the wind which heralded a wildfire that would drive even the most ferocious before it. Thump…thumpthumpthump. Stabbing pain cut him, but his mutation was already adapting to the attacks, each cut healed faster than the last until only a small trickle of blood showed where the cuts marred his flesh. Shaking himself like a great beast coming out of the water, X turned to attack the fleet footed predator nipping at his heels.

His fist skimmed IX's slender jaw before IX vanished again. This time, he re-appeared in the shadows of a container twenty feet away. X snarled and gave chase while IX attempted to wear the other out before his own energy was spent. Five jumps later, and he knew the plan was a failure. Whatever power permitted him to shadow walk wasn't limitless, and the tremble in his limbs warned him that jumping was too expensive to use recklessly.

He tracks me by scent, IX realized when those fierce brown eyes locked on the container he'd been resting on top of while he tried to regain his breath. IX managed to slink off the container before X reached the top. With silent steps, he ran between the narrow junctions. Slender fingertips traced over the three remaining knives. Without fear, he pulled one and slashed a shallow cut along the edge of his palm. Seconds after the ruby liquid began to flow, a maddened roar echoed around the arena. IX smeared blood along the edge of the container before running, leaving a long trail of crimson drops behind him like bread crumbs.

Faster than he'd expected, X burst out in front of him. His brown eyes wild as his nostrils flared with the heady scent of IX's blood. The scent was more vivid than color in that moment, and X's mind roared with fury that he hadn't been the one to score that first mark against the younger male. A guttural snarl twisted X's face into something beastly but, IX's scent remained fearless, utterly clean of all the emotions that usually filled his prey. It was exhilarating to leap at one who didn't flinch back, or flee in blind terror.

IX used the blood scent to drive X to greater heights of fury while he ducked and wove around each attack. His slender hand snaked out to sink into a pressure point in X's armpit, the limb went limp before he followed it up with a sharp jab to the throat, but even those delicate bones, so easy to crush in a normal human, were too resilient. The force of the blow split the skin of X's throat, and dainty adamantium sheathed bones grouched small chunks out of IX's knuckles.

The arm IX thought incapacitated sprang to life, and a fist buried itself in his midsection with enough force to cause him to fold around it. Agony tore through the assassin when the blow knocked the wind out of him, and left him gagging while his body rebelled. Before he could react, X slammed him into the wall and held him up several feet above the floor with a single paw-like hand. IX's breath came in short harsh gasps. His eyes flashed before he's hand snaked behind him to draw one of the few knives he had left.

X bared his teeth at the small male in his grasp, but it had no effect as the blade lashed out. The strike was surgically precise, slicing through muscle and tendon to lodge between the delicate bones of the elbow with a grinding crunch, causing the arm holding him in place to seize, releasing him. IX crumpled when his legs hit the ground, not fully recovered from the last hit. Before he could stand, a foot lashed out to catch him full in the face. IX blurred out of existence before the blow could land.

He reappeared in the shadow of the container closest to the corpses. Exhaustion made IX's steps falter. His magical core, still young an unused to such strain, was drained. Fear of death was obliterated during his training, and IX didn't hesitate to continue the battle even though his strength was flagging, and his opponent was unbeatable with the tools present. It didn't matter, all that mattered where his orders to kill. He would do his upmost to fulfill those ordered, even if it cost him his life.

Swaying, IX knelt and jerked the large dagger, which was a sword in his small grip, out of the stiffing hands of the huge corpse. An instant before X reached his new position, IX scrambled to the top of the original container to wait.

For the second time X stepped into the small clearing made by the four containers. His predatory gaze lifted just as IX made his move. The massive blade was held in a doubled handed grip when he launched himself off the top of the container. This time, X was swifter. One hand reached out and caught the blade, which had been poised to lop off his head, in an unbreakable grip as the other plowed into IX's right side.

Darkness ate at IX's vision after his body was smashed with brutal force into the cold cement. The thud of his skull against the unyielding ground reverberated through the arena. Before the scientists could react, X had the young male pinned beneath him. IX's concussion blurred eyes managed to lock on predatory sable, still fearless, still defiant…still so much more than any other's. And so much less. A low growl thrummed deep in X's throat before he tore IX's black shirt, exposing a well-defined, if slender chest blotched by deep bruises.

"Sir? Shouldn't we stop him?" Dr. Hines asked, her face pinched in worry while they watched the defeat unfold. The memory of the gaping wound in a guard's throat flashed behind her forest green eyes. She knew better than most how it wasn't just the blades one had to worry about when fighting Weapon X.

"No."

"I'm not…"

"No." This time the tone would tolerate no argument. The Professor watched the drama reach its panicle. He'd given the order not to kill, and the Professor, ever curious, wanted to see how well his new pet was trained. If it happened to kill IX? Unlikely, but if so, it only proved that weapon IX was inferior to begin with.

X's head dipped down, nuzzling the exposed flesh. His tongue trailed over IX's muscular shoulder, tasting the sweat and exhaustion, deliciously free of fear. The flavor was clean and sharp, exciting his predatory instincts in a way that prey never could. Another low rumble vibrated his massive chest when a blade tore his liver to shreds. Even now, beaten and at the end of his strength, the smaller predator fought him.

Teeth sank into flesh, unleashing a wave of exquisite blood that made his lips tingle with phantom power. IX hissed, arching against the pain. The blade gave another savage, if futile, twist, soaking him in blood but did little to dislodge X. Instead of the ripping pain he'd expected when the teeth lodged in his shoulder, they retracted, and a tongue lapped languidly at the free flowing blood.

The taste was addictive. X gave a deep rumble of satisfaction. It rolled through him even when IX's form blurred for an instant. The sharp lightning like scent flared higher before fading. The small body went limp, unconsciousness sweeping the defeated Weapon into darkness.

Dr. Hines face burned beat red when X's vitals began to flare in a way she'd never seen before. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what the readout was eluding to, but the mere idea made her feel ill. The readouts had to be wrong, of course. The swift clatter of keys drew the Professor's attention. "Dr. Hines?"

"I-er…there seems to be…" The numbers were the same, she hadn't been mistaken. "It…well…it appears…." She stuttered, unable to voice the words.

"What is it?" Each barbed word cut into her, refusing to tolerate anything but a clear concise answer.

"It would appear that X is…experiencing a physical reaction to IX," he hedged, not sure how to report her findings without being crude.

"Don't be daft woman, he can't experience…" Dr. MacKenzie began to snap.

"If you don't believe me look for yourself!" She snapped back before he could finish. The laptop was thrust in his direction, and it didn't take long for Dr. MacKenzie to confirm her speculation.

The Professor left the children to their squabbling. His slate grey eyes were locked on the actions below while old plans were discarded, and new ones rose to take their place. X stood, his body showed evidence of his attraction, but training overrode anything as mundane as bodily reactions, and his weapon was waiting for further orders now that IX had been neutralized. Still, there was something about X's gaze, lingering on the fallen form, something almost protective in the way he stood over the unconscious male that the Professor found most informative.

"Be quiet both of you," he said before he turned to face them. "This is to our advantage."

"What? But, he…we can't have our weapon, f-fornicating with the other one!" Dr. Hines protested, disgust clear in every word.

"Be silent," the Professor said, the words laced with ice. Dr. Hines snapped her mouth shut on further protests, knowing they wouldn't be heeded.

"They will not, as you so eloquently put it, be fornicating. We stripped X of his humanity, and one of the benefits of creating a beast is that it behaves as such. I've wondered if X would react to any of the female convicts, and he's already proven uninterested in them. Even the one I made sure was ovulating at the time garnered no reaction." Dr. Hines gasped at the admission.

"Now, unlike a human male who takes his pleasure as he will, a beast is triggered by biological cues. Just as in nature, there are those rare parings between males of monogamous species. It appears that X shares this trait. That is to our benefit, because X has fixated on IX, we don't have to worry about it fixating on some weak female or another male not in our control. Furthermore, IX will never respond to the overtures. He won't give off the scent cues X requires to inspire mating behavior. As you see, this is only to the benefit of the program that X focuses his baser desires on IX." Truly he couldn't have found a better solution if he'd planned it this way. The Professor gave his razor thin smile. "I believe testing for the day is done, Dr. Hendry if you would tend to IX. Dr. Cornelius, work up a plan for developing IX's mutation. That is all," he finished, dismissing the staff.

Magic was limited only by the caster's imagination, and unfortunately, the government's imagination was limited to destruction and infiltration. Magic was also a fickle thing, and if the caster believed something, it would often bend to that belief even against all logic and demonstration to the contrary.

"Try it again." Dr. Cornelius said to the young man standing in the middle of the large empty training room. IX didn't huff or grumble like someone else might have when told to attempt something impossible for the eleventh time. Empty green eyes focused on the bright, shadowless area. Warmth tingled along his spine, but nothing happened. "All right, the nanos are functioning, and the power is flowing but it is being blocked. Hmm, well I believe this is a dead end. It would appear that your teleportation ability is limited to shadows."

Dr. Cornelius wrote up the results of numerous tests in IX's file. In full light, IX was incapable of teleporting. It appeared that he had to be standing in a shadow, and the area he reappeared in also had to contain shadows. Secondly, he didn't have to see where he was teleporting to. But he had to have been there prior. Another unique aspect was that the mutation seemed to sense if there was a shadow to land in or not. During the course of experimentation, he'd found that if he turned on a light in a room IX couldn't see, the subject was unable to execute the teleportation.

The fire was something Dr. Cornelius was still leery of. It only took a few tests to ascertain that there was something unearthly about the flames. They didn't require fuel to burn, and if IX's focus wavered in the slightest, they began to grow out of control.

IX's mutation was the most unique form Cornelius had ever studied. The mutation wasn't limited to any fixed feature like most were. If he had to classify it, the best he could come up with was that IX had the power of energy. Even that was too vague, because it was a type of energy that couldn't be measured or properly documented. They'd learned early on in the testing that his power and electricity did not function well in close proximity. So the doctor was forced to be creative, and dew inspiration mostly from science fiction.

"This time, try and shape a wall around you. I'll throw ping pong balls at you, and we'll see if you can stop them." Cornelius said, and snatched up three of the small white balls. The guards protested when Cornelius stole some of their recreation balls, but he didn't care. It was better than starting with actual weapons. "Ready? Okay, here we go."

IX pictured an adamantium wall between him and the doctor. Even though the little balls were harmless, he still attempted to form the strongest wall possible, knowing that if it worked as the doctor wished it, harmless balls would only be the beginning.

The doctor, like most men in his field, wasn't the most active person when it came to physical exertion. The first ball fell short of where IX had placed the wall. He said nothing when Cornelius blushed and blustered before throwing the next one. This one flew true, and bounced off an invisible wall a foot away from where IX stood. "Brilliant!" The doctor shouted, excitement making his wide waist jiggle when he gave a little hop of triumph.

By the end of the week, they found that IX could shadow walk. He was proficient at creating and containing the unusual fire, and could create a spherical shield five feet in diameter around himself that could stop everything they dared throw at him. The shield only functioned if he stood still, and he could maintain it for an hour at top strength. He could hold it longer if he lowered the strength level, but there wasn't a level low enough for him to hold while moving. They learned that locks also yielded to his strange power, and if he focused he could move completely unnoticed through a crowd.

"Yes, sir," the Professor said, uploading the data from the last round of testing. Both subjects were performing to the Director's specifications and beyond. In the past month, the pair became a devastating team that even the best trained soldiers couldn't stand against. Pride flared in every word the Professor spoke while he touted his success.

"Both subjects have adapted well to each other, and IX is fully in control of X during missions. This permits IX to make decisions at critical junctions in the field that would have been a large limitation to Weapon X if it was deployed with verbal commands alone. The nano communications system was successfully implanted in IX, and I've forwarded you the up-link and security codes. I believe the pair are going to be the most potent weapon the Department has ever wielded," he finished almost breathlessly. IX and X were the crown jewels of the Professor's career. No military in the world would be able to boast such advanced weapons. Bombs were too destructive in this day and age, but IX and X could act as a scalpel to cut out troublesome groups without causing structural damage to the area around them.

"All that is left is field testing, sir," the Professor stated, finishing his report.

"Your work is superb as always Professor. I will arrive within the week to start the next phase of the project."

"Next phase?" The Professor questioned, but the line had gone dead. Fear crunched in his gut like dead leaves under foot, but he pushed the sensation away. The Director was, as ever, tight lipped, doling out information in dribs and drabs. This was no different.

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Emerald eyes snapped open in the darkness when the voice crackled in his mind. "Commencing operation Deadwood, I repeat: operation Deadwood," the stern voice echoed silently in his head while details of the operation were uploaded into his brain.

IX stood, liquid grace flowing with each movement. He didn't require light, having memorized the confining space that held him when he wasn't being tested. Off the bed, two steps forward, seven steps to the right.

"Open," he whispered, the word clean of emotion; lacking even the excitement that would have coursed through a lesser weapon in the face of his first live mission. The lock released under the insistent nudge of his magic.

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