[First time poster, long time lurker. Recently I've been hyper focused on writing a DC Comics universe of my own creation to get my mind off of stress and stuff. Kinda treating this like if DC Comics themselves asked me to make my own alternate universe and gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted.

So the majority of characters are definitely going to be changed in some way or another. Entire backstories and characteristics will be changed to fit the narrative I want to create. Now this doesn't mean if I change a character I hated that character or their original personality. I just figured it would be fun to make some drastic changes and see where they go.

Without further ado, here's a sort of prelude into this universe with: Task Force X]

The air is thick with the smell of blood. Floyd Lawton runs through the building corridor, his wrist mounted guns are still smoking.

A few days ago, Floyd was hired to assassinate the royal family of Markovia by an unknown buyer. And Floyd succeeded.

Now here's the thing about Floyd Lawton. He's a man that never quits. He's self taught, born in a neglectful lower class family. He spent most of his life fighting for scraps. He used to be a simple thief, running in a gang back in Gotham for a couple years or so. But eventually, he found his worth, turning from thief to killer.

Floyd wasn't exactly a professional assassin, but the man knows a thing or two about surviving.

Though fortunately for him, the country of Markovia wasn't exactly known for a strong military. It was a theocracy, think a giant amish tribe. They worship nature and the planet itself, the average person never even heard of a phone. So Floyd was up against a group of soldiers wearing what's basically medieval armor. Floyd tore through them almost immediately. Same with the family itself. Leaving the kids alive

The buyer wanted to keep them for themselves. And Floyd isn't gonna question it.

Task Force X

Floyd sits at a bar in Puerto Rico. Like he usually does after a mark, he chases down the horror of the kill with a drink. Floyd may be in the game for a long time, but he can never get over the killing. It isn't exactly an easy gig, but it makes big cash, and Floyd would take it over gang work any day.

But as he continues downing his sorrows in a drink, he gets a call. The perks of being a hired assassin is the connections. Once you make a name for yourself, the money and the experience comes flooding in. One of these connections is a man named Slade Wilson, an older assassin that Floyd knows. The guy's a bit of a psycho, but he's been in the game longer that Floyd's ever been. So despite all the weird shit Slade tends to tell him about, Floyd at least tunes in cause the guy's been through a hell of a lot more than him

Best of all, the guy's is always in the know when there's an opportunity for a big cash flow. Lucky for Floyd, Slade's got exactly that.

Slade tells him about some recruiter looking for people to take part in some secret mission. They didn't say exactly, but Slade could tell it was government. Floyd's a little wary, cause why would some government guy be looking for assassins for work? If anything it seems like a trap. But Slade assures him that it isn't anything like that. He's been on missions like these before, and almost always the team is written off as some government cover job. Always under the name "Task Force X".

Floyd was going yo reject it at first. But Slade told him the payout:

900,000

Floyd took it. And it became the biggest mistake of his life.

He didn't know how it happened. He was just heading to his apartment, crossing through an alleyway, when he was immediately caught off guard by a shadowy figure. Floyd takes a gun off a holster on his ankle and points it at the moving figure but no matter how many bullets he shot out, he couldn't even graze the guy.

Floyd never misses.

He's incredibly outmatched, constantly turning and shooting, practically dizzying the assassin. Before he can even react he's hit right on the head with what almost looked like the hilt of a sword.

Floyd Lawton wakes up in a room with four other people. As soon as his vision clears, he's almost taken aback. at least half of the people in the room with him are metahuman. He tries to grab his gun, expecting the worse, but he couldn't find it. What he does have is a prison jumpsuit, and a collar on his neck.

Floyd takes a second to look around more clearly.

He takes notice of the behavior of each person. One of the metahumans, a blue skinned woman, sits there quietly. While another metahuman, a man covered in tattoos, the only way Floyd could tell that he even is a meta is his glowing yellow eyes. Almost like two flames are in place of where his pupils should be. Floyd then looks over to the last two, seemingly human. He first takes notice of a black man with a shaved head, sits on the ground, almost meditating.

"Oi, what are you staring at all us before, huh?"

Floyd's gaze moves from the black man to that last person in the room; a scruffy, brown-haired, man with an unkempt beard. He's looking right at Floyd

"You got any idea why we're here?"

Floyd shakes his head. If there's one thing he's learned over the years it's to keep his mouth shut before he figures something out. Besides that though he doesn't exactly know anyone in the room, the more information he can keep to himself, the better. But what really bothers Floyd is the fact that he recognized these guys. He's seen there faces.

But where?

Oh.

Floyd is trapped in a room with a bunch of criminals.

But now that Floyd realizes it, where was Slade?

Someone walks into the room. A tall, muscular, man strapped to the tee in military gear. Floyd tries to get a good look at the man's face, but it's hidden behind a chrome helmet.

Think Cobra Commander from GI Joe? But just the mirrored mask part all over his head.

This guy right here is Christopher Smith. And as he addresses the mix of human and metahuman criminals he makes it crystal clear that he isn't here to play around. Christopher is here to keep them in check.

He isn't a part of their team. He's their wrangler.

Floyd's no stranger to the type of person Christopher Smith is. He's dealt with people like him before. Back in Gotham, while on missions, even as marks. These guys aren't the type you fuck around with. And if Slade was true to his word, Christopher Smith's got government power to him.

And as Floyd brushes his hand over the collar around his throat, he has a sinking feeling as to what any of the five people in the room would do if they tried to question Smith.

He had a feeling the others picked up on what Floyd realized and they kept their mouths shut. The brown-haired man from earlier, a bank robber called Denny "Digger" Harkness, opened his mouth for a moment. But eventually he could read the room. Christopher Smith just smirks, knowing he's got their attention.

The man's used to getting his way.

After giving them their gear, Christopher gets them into a projector room. He tells them they've volunteered for a search and rescue mission. Should be simple enough. All they need to do is travel into Russian territory and rescue a politician's daughter.

The group is almost relaxed. Search and rescue? Going into foreign land might be a little iffy, but at least it's fairly straightforward. Floyd was agreeing with the group's sentiment, but that was before he listened to what the meditating man from earlier, Benjamin Turner, muttered under his breath.

"Why'd they need a group of criminals for a rescue mission."

Christopher tells the team about the facility they plan to break into, going over the schematics of the building and the possible ways to get inside. Only problem is, these schematics were made almost a decade ago. While he doesn't think they've made any major changes, it's obvious to both him and the group that there's plenty of unmarked territory they don't have.

Smith says he doesn't know about any updated security measures or the kind of weaponry they'd have protecting the facility. All in all, they're going into blind.

By the time the briefing is over, the team is sent to individual rooms for rest. But as Floyd laid in that stiff brick of a bed, he couldn't help but think about what's happening to him.

How Benjamin Turner questioned the use of criminals to save a politician's daughter. How Smith is sending them into Russian territory without much information. How he woke up with a bomb collar around his neck surrounded by criminals. How Slade Wilson of all people convinced him to be part of this mission and didn't even show up himself. As he goes over this information again and again in his head, Floyd freezes.

This isn't an easy payout. This is a suicide mission.

They're sending them out for a slaughter.

0500 hours. Floyd, in all his gear, sits in a helicopter along with the rest of the criminals. It's silent, no one speaks a word. Just the muffled sounds of helicopter blades rotating in the air.

"I'm Denny by the way. My mates call me Digger."

Everyone looks at Denny Harkness in confusion. But go along with it. They're about to die aren't they?

The metahuman man covered in tattoos speaks up

"Chato Santana"

"Hey I heard about you! A mate of mine said you worked with him on a drug deal. Hell of a power you got there mate. Real pyro shit, eh?"

"Yeah. It's not really something I'm proud of."

"But I bet they need you to use it, huh? Barbecue some folks. Maybe blow up a couple tanks and shit?"

Chato just gets quiet. Floyd isn't the type to empathize, but he couldn't help but stare at Chato Santana's face. It was a face he's made many times, especially after a real awful hit. A face of mourning.

Before Denny can say anything else, Floyd notices the blue skinned metahuman, Caitlyn Snow, flinching. She looks up at the rest of the team.

"Anyone hear that?"

Floyd wasn't sure what she meant at first, but that was before the helicopter was hit by what felt like a giant rock. And the entire group starts hurtling towards the ground.

Floyd doesn't have time for any second thoughts. Most helicopters should have parachutes in case of an emergency, and he's not going to waste a second. He gets out of his seat and rushes towards a locker at the end of the copter. Shooting the lock on the door, he swings it open and grabs a parachute. Floyd turns around and rushes towards the door of the helicopter, noticing that everyone else is following his lead. And as he jumps out the helicopter, he tries to move in the air, making enough distance from the helicopter to make room for the parachute. And he pulls the drawstring.

The parachute opens as he glides down towards what looks like a village.

A village?

Floyd didn't get a chance to look closer though. He sees a blonde-haired woman flying towards him. Flying. He aims his wrist mounted guns at her, shooting her full of lead.

Well it should have riddled her with bullets. Nothing Floyd throws at her works. He notices Caitlyn shooting a stream of ice at the woman, who slaps it away like a fly. Denny, who was struggling with his parachute earlier, gets a good shot in at the woman with a boomerang. It explodes in her face, and she flies right through the smoke. The team gives it their all, trying to take her down. And while it distracts her, they can never actually hurt her. The only people who don't even bother to join the fight are Chato and Benjamin.

"Oi! You counts better help us before she pops our heads!"

"No thanks! I'd rather not piss off the flying, invincible, woman!"

But before Chato can say anything else, he shakes violently. The collar begins to glow as Chato looks at it in fear.

In the chaos, Floyd realizes in horror that the collars were not bombs. He thinks of the village again, the woman. This isn't a search and rescue, it wasn't even a suicide mission. As Chato seems to pass out, he immediately snaps back into place. These collars aren't used to keep them in check.

They're to control them.

Everything goes dark.

Floyd wakes up to flames all around him. He didn't know how it happened or why, but as he gets up from the ground, he can finally get a good look at what he was looking at earlier.

It was a village. And it was burning.

Dozens of what he assumes are natives to the village run around in fear. Burnt bodies lying all over the place. He sees Caitlyn, her snow white hair has singe marks at the edges, and then sees Denny, passed out.

And as Floyd walks through the destruction, he finds Chato. The man was kneeling in front of what looked like a crudely made doll. But as he got closer, he realized it was a corpse, a small corpse. Floyd leaves Chato just as the tears started leaking down his tattooed face.

And as Floyd tried to regroup with the others, he sees Christopher Smith, his mirrored helmet has a streak of blood on it. The soldier just looks at Floyd, and nods. Next to Smith is a platoon of soldiers, and kneeling before them, handcuffed, is the blonde woman from before. The handcuffs glow a bright green. Floyd doesn't know what it is, but whatever it did it affected her heavily, she's covered in bruises and scratches. And as Floyd walks towards the platoon, he feels a hand grab his wrist. Benjamin Turner, a bruise on his cheek, looks at Floyd.

"That's no metahuman is it?"

Floyd looks back at the woman, she tries to bite one of the soldiers, but they simply hit her with the butt of his gun. He shakes his head.

"I thought so. Smith's lying to us. Whoever he represents is lying to us. You gonna let them do this?"

Floyd just looks at the burning village in front of him. The pain, the misery, the blood. He didn't know why they used him, or what this place was. But this is government work

If Floyd knows anything about government work, it isn't something worth fighting against.

"Not my problem."

Like I said before. Floyd knows a thing or two about surviving.