Genesis [Chapter 1]

The beginning is nothing but a blur in my memory. It all happened so fast. I didn't even know what was going on. All I knew was that I was in danger, and I had to get out of it. These people weren't my friends, but they weren't my enemies either. We had to stick together to survive, whether we liked it or not.

Yes, this is where all this began. This is where the nightmare starts. If I had known what would happen by then I would've denied their offer. But I was too naive; too foolish. They gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. The ultimate gift: life. Had I known the price for this exchange... I wouldn't be telling this story.

---

Amy woke after what seemed to be a lifetime of sleep. Her head was ringing and her eyes took almost a minute to adjust to the artificial light shining in her eyes. There were people standing all around here, their faces covered with medical masks. They were poking and prodding her, checking her eyesight, the lining of her throat, and whatever else. It was not pleasant, but for some reason she couldn't resist it. She felt as if she wouldn't have the energy to even lift her arms.

"She looks good," one of the lead doctors said. "Check out the other three right away."

All the doctors left to work on the three others except for one. She had a syringe in one hand, full of a clear, but potent, liquid. The needle was inserted into Amy's arm quickly, and the solution entered her bloodstream. Within moments, Amy was filled with the energy she had been lacking. She could move her fingers and legs again. It was wondrous.

As her eyes adjusted she noticed that she was sitting in some sort of pod-like chamber, the front of it opened. It was obviously filled with some sort of liquid beforehand, as Amy could feel the dampness in her skin. The other three were sitting in the same type of pods, each lined up orderly-like.

"Step out of your medi-chamber," the woman-doctor said to Amy after doing her last checkups. "Let's see if that vitalizer is working."

Amy obeyed the request and stood up, looking around the room. It was a rather plain place, the walls colored by a pallet of various metallic blues. The artificial lighting in the room was bright enough that it lit the entire area, but didn't blind you at the same time. There were a few doors on each wall leading to various areas of this laboratory. Numerous computers and scientists or doctors were set about, making Amy feel a little less like a human and more like a test subject. That probably wasn't far from the truth.

"She's reacting well to the vitalizer," the woman-doctor said to the others around her. "It's a success; use it on the other patients. The other doctors did as they were told and they awaited for some sort of reaction from the three patients.

"What's... what's happening?" Amy asked, still feeling a bit sick from whatever was done to her. "My head hurts and I can't remember anything."

"Just wait until your comrades awaken," the female doctor answered, smiling kindly. "It will all be explained in due time."

Images swam through Harvey Clayton's head like a wave but was so scrambled he could make no sense of them. He thought he spotted a snowy wilderness, a log cabin and a warm fire, the image of a dog, and an axe buried in a tree stump. Somehow it all seemed foreign, and they were only glimpses after all, perhaps mere fantasies. Before his eyelids flashed a bright light, bright enough to wake him from his long, dark slumber. His eyes slowly opened, blinking. Blurry figures stood before him, stooping over as if examining him.

As his vision cleared, he knew then that they were indeed examining him. He likely would have jumped from the table and backed into a corner... but he was oddly rigid. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. There were no straps holding him down, from what he could tell, but it was as if his entire body was paralyzed and numb.

He could see the white-coated doctors speaking, their mouths moved behind surgical masks. Slowly but surely, his ears seemed to be given life, noise flooding in as low drones. It was all quite incoherent. Shutting his eyes, he wished this would all end, he was completely naked... it was obscene to be honest. And yet, all he could do as they went about prodding, poking, and examining his body was lay there, unwillingly mute.

But noise came as quickly as sight it seems, as the low drones of the doctors started to form into bearable speaking.

"His vital functions are at 100%, feeling and pain should be able to come back within a few minutes. It'll be as if he never died." One of the doctors, a women, said.

"Died... I died!? When, how!? The last thing I remember is.... the last thing I remember...is..." Harvey strained to think. He couldn't remember anything.

"He should be able to move soon. Give him the vitalizer."

Harvey watched as a long needle pierced through his numb skin... a clear but gelatinous liquid was pumped into his body - what it did, he didn't know. He started to wonder if this was some form of inhumane torture. All thinking subsided when a rush of feeling overcame him. He could feel everything, numbness subsided. He could feel the cryogenic-like capsule he lay in - the sheets or upholstery beneath his body. He could feel the sudden pinch of pain from the doctors withdrawing the needle from his pale skin. It was as though the nerves all over his body screamed to life, bringing back the wonderful feelings of pleasure, pain, and touch.

"You may get out of your medi-chamber, Harvey Clayton." The kind voice of the women said to him.

He did as he was told. Upon sitting up, his head pounded. Putting a hand to his forehead, he gritted his teeth.

"Wh-where am I? My head is killing me...."Harvey finally spoke in a hoarse voice. He tried to clear his throat, but it was quite dry. It was hard to swallow.

"If you can, walk around, please. Those uncomfortable feelings will pass in due time." The woman doctor replied.

Harvey staggered for a moment, but managed to stand. One of the doctors by him handed over a robe, which he gladly put on. Stumbling, more than walking, he made his way around his medi-chamber. He saw one other patient in another chamber next to his. There was a woman standing over by hers, she looked as though she had gone through something like him as she was pale and sickly looking. He wanted to say hi, but he felt that in his present state, he would only embarrass himself. He wished he could remember if he was good with women or not.... he couldn't remember a thing.

Harvey gave the woman doctor a look of confusion, obviously he was seeking answers. She merely smiled kindly and addressed his feelings.

"Don't worry, Harvey. Everything will be explained soon."

The second patient finally awoke. Amy looked over at the man, wondering if he was thinking the same things she was. He was rather tough looking, his hair shortly cropped and a light goatee on his chin. Before this he was probably a rather confident fellow. But now... no one was the same. What had happened to them? From what Amy could gather from the banter between doctors, they had previously been killed in accidents. It simply didn't make sense. No doctor could revive the dead.

Amy was handed a medical gown after a few moments. She was surprised that she didn't notice she was fully naked. It would've been fairly obvious before. It had to have something do with what happened to her. She just felt so out of it despite the boost that vitalizer gave her. Amy looked over to see a bit of a commotion between a few doctors by the last two patients.

"Three and four aren't responding," one of the male doctors said audibly. "They aren't reacting to the vitalizer and their vitals are failing."

"Are you joking?" one of the senior members said in disbelief. "There were no mistakes made. One and two reacted quite well. What is the problem?"

"Something must've happened during Reconstruction," a doctor observed. "There's no other explanation."

"Lock them back up then," the senior doctor said. "We will work on them later. We've got other things to do."

The doctors nodded and attached various instruments to the last two patients before closing their chambers and filling them back up with whatever liquids were contained in them. It was apparent to Amy now that they were test experiments. Were they even human anymore? What has been done to them?

Before Amy could muster the courage to say anything, the woman-doctor came up to them. She was quite young looking, sporting thin black hair held back in a ponytail. Amy was guessing she was older than she looked due to her profession, but she could've been wrong. The doctor wore a friendly face and gathered Amy and the other awake subject together.

"Amy, Harvey," the doctor said to them, looking down at her clipboard for a moment. "You have responded well to our experiments. It's difficult for me to explain, but you two are scientific phenomenons. There is no one on this earth like yourselves. Come."

The doctor gestured to them and led the two through the door out of this room into a very large room. Scientists and doctors were positioned everywhere around them, many making experiments on various subjects, and multiple tests made on robotic humanoids. It was quite fascinating with all the activity happening in such constant flow that Amy couldn't help but stare at a few of them.

"This is the Resurrection Project," the female doctor said to them, turning as she walked. "We have spent countless of years studying the human body for a process that we call Reconstruction. This process is essentially geared towards bringing people back to life. You two are the first that have been majorly successful. There have been... other subjects, but we won't discuss them now! They are unimportant."

The doctor led them both out of the loud room through the doors to a smaller room, with only a couple other scientists there. There was various weaponry laying about, at least one of every kind imaginable, from assault rifles, to swords, to pistols. As the doctor was about to continue on, she suddenly changed her subject.

"I'm afraid that I have not yet introduced myself," she said, smiling. "It was easy for me to forget after investigating both of you for so long. You may call me Elizabeth. I am a lead doctor and scientist here, and currently the leader of this project. Of course, I have my higher ups, but I'm in charge down here."

"Um... Elizabeth?" Amy asked, her words not coming out completely clear due to her body still getting used to movement again. "Wh-what exactly are we going to do now? Do we get to go back... home?"

"This is your home now, my dear," Elizabeth replied, smiling sadly. "Well, not for long. Within due time you will be shipped off to the the facility of the company that funded our research for combat training."

"Combat... training?" Amy asked, her eyes wide. She wasn't sure if she was ready for such a thing. She tried to think about her past to justify her feelings against it, but couldn't recall anything. No memories she could recall, actually. Maybe it was all just part of the recovery?

"Yes, combat training," Elizabeth said. "You will be trained by the very best and taking part of state of the art programs, including virtual reality soldier training and nearly real life scenarios with top of the line artificial intelligence. You will become the warriors of the future. I do not know what they will use you for, but I assume it is for good purposes."

"I don't know..."

"Do not fret, my child," Elizabeth said, suddenly taking a look at her watch. "I'm afraid I have to take my leave for now. I do not know if we will see each other again in person. For that I apologize. If you have anything you'd like to ask or say to me, say it now. But soon I'll have to hand you over to the men over there so they can gear you up. Okay?"

Harvey walked alongside his new comrade. As the doctor named Elizabeth walked them out from the medi-chamber room and into a much more large one he looked to her. Her name, which he caught from the doctors, was Amy. She was a bit younger than himself, perhaps 2 or 3 years, and quite attractive. He wondered what accident brought her to this place, he felt sad for them both.

As the room opened up to them, his mouth dropped a bit. The room was filled with racks, shelves, and crates of various military grade gear. Everything from assault weaponry to combat-ready armor just sat... ready for use at any moment. An odd sense of familiarity flashed over him, but was disregarded quickly. He had never used a weapon before... nor killed anyone... right?

"Excuse me... Dr. What exactly do you expect us to do?" Harvey asked, scratching his head with confusion.

"I expect you to do everything that these men ask of you. God knows you both can pull of the impossible... I mean, you're standing before us now."

Harvey made to say something but could think of nothing. So they were indeed just mere lab rats. Pawns for some sadistic game of life or death... or death and life. Some sense of anger welled inside, but he bottled it up and made a straight face. Suddenly, a question came to mind.

"Dr... how do you expect us to... to kill anyone. I'm sure that neither of us have done such a thing before. I can't do th-" Harvey started but was promptly cut off.

"You can and you will. And you of all people... should have no trouble pulling the trigger. I expect you will be quite adept at it, in fact." Elizabeth retorted with that same smile. "Don't worry, everything will work itself out, Harvey."

Harvey fell silent again. One of her comments confused him... he of all people? What did that mean? He'd be adept at such a thing? Hiding his interest with a talent he didn't know he had, he put on a poker face until Elizabeth prepared to leave them with the men who would... take control of them.

"Please be cooperative," Elizabeth said with a sad smile as she walked up to the exit. "They just want to help you. If... If there was another way, I'd take it. Believe me. But I'm afraid this is the price we have to pay. The price that you have to pay. Good luck. I know you'll make us proud."

With that Elizabeth left the room, leaving Amy and Harvey by themselves with the two other men in the room. Amy was a bit nervous. Would they really be out killing people, or was this some sort of cruel joke? What was happening was almost dreamlike, but she couldn't wake herself up from it.

"Over here, you two," came the gruff voice of one of the men. "We've got some things to go over, and it'd be nice not to talk across the room to you guys."

Amy looked over at Harvey, nodding slightly, and moved towards the two men. The diversity of weapons all around the tables and walls was astounding. Everything from pistols, grenade launchers, sniper rifles, and any other modern weapons could be seen.

"As of now, you belong to Avalon, the group that funded your rebirths," a bearded man said. "As such, you will need to become prepared for the work we'll fit you out for."

"You will be tasked with various missions that no other people are prepared to carry out," the other beardless man said. "Many would refer to them as suicide missions, but death is not a problem for you two. That is why you are so special. No matter how many times you are killed in action, we can bring you back to life for more. It's wonderful."

Amy was a little startled by this. She was given the impression that death would be a common thing on these missions. Sure, they'd be brought back to life, but it would no doubt be painful, both mentally and physically. It was a disturbing thing to think about.

"Now for the most exciting part of the hour," the bearded man said, turning to the racks and tables of weapons. "Picking out your weapons. There are a variety to choose from, so pick wisely. What you pick here is what you'll be using for the remainder of your training. I'd go with choosing two or three weapons, but it's up to you."

The two men stepped away and left Amy and Harvey to themselves so they could choose their weapons. Amy hesitated for a moment, but stepped forward and peered down at the guns laying about. It was strange, picking your preferred instrument of destruction. She wasn't sure what would suit her best. If she had the choice, she wouldn't pick any weapon and just walk away, but it was clear that wasn't an option right now.

As she was passing by the tables she noticed a pistol that attracted her attention. It was a Jericho 941, often called the Baby Eagle. It was a simple looking weapon, but also looked quite powerful. She tested it in her hands. It felt right. There wasn't any other reason for her picking it. Next to it was a ballistic knife with a few extra blades. It was the perfect accompaniment. Now she'd probably need a more heavy duty weapon. Taking a look at a few sub-machine guns, she picked out a P90, a weapon that was both effective and portable.

"Excellent choices, if I may say so myself," the bearded man said, walking up to Amy. "I'm glad you picked weapons of diversity, though it still seems you will be mostly a close ranged fighter. This will determine what kind of training you will receive, and I guarantee you will be taught much in the ways of CQC."

"CQC?" Amy asked, puzzled.

"Close Quarters Combat," the man replied. "It's mostly taught in the military, but we can provide training as well. It deals with everything up close and personal, often dealing with that knife of yours."

Amy nodded, still a bit unsure about all this. Close quarters combat sounded kind of intimidating, but she couldn't deny what they had to teach her. She was sure there wouldn't be anything good happening to her if she resisted. There was a certain threatening aura she felt from these two. She was definitely being forced into this. Amy looked over at Harvey and wondered what he was going to choose. She wondered if he had previous experience with these kinds of weapons, as he had the physique of someone in the military.

Harvey listened to the men talk to them. They seemed a bit more gruff than Dr. Elizabeth was, but it wasn't too unexpected to him. He looked over to Amy and watched her pick out her weapons before he even made a move. He was quite aware of the men watching to see what he would pick... and when he would do so. Harvey tried to relax, he still felt a bit sluggish from the drugs that the doctors had given them.

Walking by some of the racks, he really didn't think of anything. He found himself stop by the sniper rifles. Looking down, his eyes seemed trained upon what was named an CheyTac Intervention. As his hand clasped around the breech of the rifle, images flashed behind his eyes and through his mind.

He saw himself - a young 23 year old soldier - he was neatly shaved and wore all the gear a soldier might wear. He was somewhere in a desert, but alone atop a high hill. He was looking through the scope of a sniper rifle much like the one his body grasped. The image flashed again to the horrible sight of a man falling lifeless - in the background the noise of a sniper rifle's shot rang out... it was his. He saw himself in a cold, arctic climate - he was wearing a white camouflaged gillie suit. Slung at his back was the sniper as well as an assault rifle of some sort. Just as the piercing wind blustered about him, the image changed to a lone log cabin in the middle of nowhere.

What the hell did he just see? Harvey came back to reality with a jolt. The visions had stopped, and he was still standing over the sniper rifle - his eyes bulging and his expression one of intense strain. His head had started to pulse with pain. Removing his hand from the Intervention, he put it to his head and closed his eyes.

"Mr. Clayton, is everything alright?" Asked one of the men, their tone was odd... something akin to an observer during an experiment.

"Yes... yes, I just have a headache." Harvey diverted.

For some reason, even had he not seen those visions, he knew that the Intervention was meant for him. As he gripped it, it felt almost... natural to him. It felt right. Checking for the strap, he slung it around his shoulder. The weight of it upon his back somehow felt familiar.

Moving down the racks again, he came upon the pistols. Something about the Heckler & Koch HK45 seemed familiar as well. Taking the grip, he found the holster and seemed to meditate on where he might put it if he were a soldier. Relaxing his hand at his side, he found that the best place to holster it would be at his left leg. Strapping it around, he slid his pistol in and buttoned the strap over the back.

Finding his third weapons seemed as easy as the others. Glancing upon the M4A1 Carbine seemed to hearken back to his visions as that other weapons slung upon his back... or the back of whomever was in those visions. Attaching a strap to it, he found that he could slid other custom attachments onto the rail system. Grabbing a Reflex sight and a hand grab, he slid them on without much trouble and slung that upon the same shoulder as his sniper.

Walking past a mirror, he gazed in and a last vision flew through his mind. He saw himself, standing in front of another mirror in ceremonial military grab. He seemed to have many decorated pins upon his breast. He attached a purple pin to his jacket - his face was not one of happiness. The vision had started to fade just as it began.... when he came to, he was still standing there before the mirror. The confused look on Amy's face seemed to read that she saw him have his odd vision... he must have had a weird expression.

Walking over to her, he looked to the men who awaited him.

"Looks like I found my weapons of choice."

"... Interesting. Quite interesting indeed, Harvey." One of the men said in a pensive voice.

Unsure of what that meant, Harvey awaited their next direction.

After the two had chosen their weapons, the door to the room suddenly opened, Elizabeth walking through once more. It seemed this wouldn't be the last time they'd see her after all.

"Excuse the interruption, but we have a new guest," she said a bit apologetically. "Another test subject has awoken properly and responded to the vitalizer. He'll need to pick out his weapons as well. Please come in, Sean."

Amy wondered what the new person would be like. She did not have a good look at the other two subjects when she left the room, and her eyesight had been blurry from medication. Would he be another tough guy like Harvey, or maybe someone a bit more casual like herself? She'd know soon enough.

The two men got out their clipboards and started to jot down a few notes and check off which equipment Amy and Harvey had grabbed. Their load-out was approved and they put both of the forms into an envelope.

"Sean, we would like you to come and choose what equipment you will be using for your training," the bearded man said. "I assume Elizabeth has already filled you in about what's going on, so we'll just get right to business. Feel free to choose whatever feels right."

"That she has, mate. I'll take a gander, see what you lot have." A heavy Irish accent replied as the man strode rather nonchalantly over to the racks. Ignoring the other two for the time being, he casually, although carefully, browsed the aisles of weaponry at his disposal.

Let's begin with the small stuff first, he thought, immediately traipsing over to the section. As he surveyed the combat knives at his disposal, his eyes wandered to a certain one in particular. Picking up the blade, he examined it; the blade was black, much darker than most other blades in the selection. Upon closer inspection, Sean noted a 'KM2000' chiseled into the lightly serrated blade, along with a brighter, steel-colored edge. Observing its angled, blocky form, compared to the rest of the blades, he began balancing it. Tested a few maneuvers with the blade, Sean smiled in satisfaction. He liked this blade. Finding the correct sheath for the blade, he strapped it to his lower leg and sheathed the KM2000.

Next on his list was a pistol. No matter what primary equipment he was to take, he wanted to ensure that in a close quarters or covert situation, he had the tools necessary to fight up close and personal -- or stealthily -- if the situation called for it. Wandering the aisle, he again stopped on a German weapon. Grabbing the HK45, he smirked his content when he noticed the HK hallmark on the side of the Upper Receiver. Confused as to this reaction, Sean move onwards to balancing and wielding the .45 caliber pistol. Adjusting it with a weaponlight and suppressor, he again balanced the pistol in his hand. Finding it sufficient, he fixed a pistol holster to his belt and slid it into the holster, moving onwards.

Continuing foreward, he skipped over a few aisles until he came upon a weapon that caught his eye. Picking up the Designated Marksman's Rifle, Sean inspected the weapon carefully. Noticing a tag that had been on the rack he had picked the rifle up from, he read 'Knight's Armament M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System, 7.62x51mm'. Picking up the weapon, he loaded it and attached a few accessories. The first he noticed was labeled 'Harrison Swivel Bipod', it was to no avail what its purpose was, quickly being connected to the undersling of the barrel. Next were two optics - a Leupold 3.5x-10x Optic, and AN/PVS-14 Night Sight, both of which he adjusted properly onto the weapon's top Picatinny rail. Balancing the weapon firmly into a comfortable position, Sean strapped the weapon across his back, moving onwards.

Finally was what Sean enjoyed most - finding a Grenade Launcher. It had been on his mind since he had been introduced to the weapon assortment, and he was no more eager looking through them now. Grabbing one of the larger pieces of equipment, he read the tag, listing the weapon as the 'Milkor M32 Multiple Grenade Launcher, 40mm'. Grinning from ear to ear, he winced slightly as he remembered something. It hadn't bothered him before, but he now noticed he was over-enthusiastic about explosives; maybe it was a lingering part of his past self? He had been told they had wiped his mind of memory, however he had no idea if it affected what he himself acted like. Attaching a sight that read 'Armson Occluded Eye Gunsight' onto the top of the Grenade Launcher, and a handgrip, he finally walked back over to his teammates and two other men.

As he arrived, one of the men quipped "Very Intriguing choice in weaponry, Sean. I don't think I've ever seen someone pick up both a Sniper Rifle and a Grenade Launcher. Your training will be interesting; Demolitions Training and Long Range Combat. Something tells me you'll like the former." To this Sean grinned deviously, -- although he still had no idea why besides enjoyment -- himself remarking "I like explosions as much as the next bloke."

Obviously, the man noted the sarcasm in his voice, looking faintly concerned as he jotted down information. Sean shifted his attention to his teammates: a male and a female. It was odd, how the bunch looked so different; the female seemed your average commuter, whilst the male appealed to a more militaristic demographic. They seemed like an interesting bunch all the same. Even then, he was told there were others who seemingly didn't respond well, suggesting possible others to add to the squad.

Amy noticed that Sean seemed to take this a little more enthusiastically than they did. He had a carefree attitude about himself that seemed odd to her considering the circumstances. Instead of just submitting to what people said he seemed to play around with his replies. It was refreshing to her to see someone with this attitude, as she did not have the courage to do so herself.

The final forms for Sean were written out by the two men and put into the same envelope as before, ready to be taken to Avalon for admittance. Because of their diverse interests, Amy was guessing they wouldn't be taking their entire training together. Sean and Harvey would obviously be doing some sniping duties together, but the only thing they would all three be doing at once would likely be pistol training.

"Excellent choices, everyone, excellent," the bearded man said, putting down his clipboard. "So it wasn't that hard after all, was it? I'm sure after a while you will all start to enjoy this if you aren't already. No one else will be getting these kind of privileges. I hope you feel special."

Amy sure did feel special, but not in a good way. She felt like a test experiment simply because she was one. She did not really feel human anymore because of what was happening. It was a strange feeling that she would likely be dealing with for the rest of her life. Maybe this training would help get it off her mind. She'd have something else to focus on.

"You will all be sent of to Avalon's training academy for around a year," the bearded man said. "It will not be easy, and the training will be non-stop. There you will learn skills and hone them until you are all masters of your professions. You all have no family or friends to worry about, so it shouldn't be too hard to focus on your training. I expect top effort from all of you."

"What's keeping us from just giving up?" Amy asked. The bearded man chuckled.

"You are all under a contract signed by your past self," he said. "There are a variety of rules on the documents you signed. If you do not follow them, you will be punished, or worse. It is possible that we can 'delete' you for good. You may be able to get by simply death, but our doctors can shut you down if you really can't cope with the stress."

Amy was beginning to understand now. They were practically enslaved by their previous selves into a lifelong servitude to this Avalon group. Their intentions were unknown, but they obviously wanted to do something along the lines of combat missions. Who they would be fighting was unknown to her, as she wasn't even sure what current factions existed on this earth. She couldn't even remember what year it was.

"Follow us," the bearded man said, opening to door to the next room. "We're almost finished, don't worry."

Amy followed, looking behind her to see if the others were following. She was assuming they'd probably get to know each other later when they weren't all confused and disoriented. Right now, however, wasn't the time. They'd just have to stick together and get through these final steps.

The next room they entered had a few computer monitors hanging down from the ceiling and a table with a strange instrument on it. It appeared to be some sort of electronic stamper connected to a wire that led to a nearby computer.

"This step will be simple and easy," said the bearded man, walking over to the stamp shaped instrument. "I'll have you go one at a time and then implant a device into your forearm with this."

"What device?" Amy asked, wanting to know what was about to get inserted into her arm.

"It's what we call a Tracer," the bearded man replied. "Once it's inside you, it tracks your every movement so that we can't ever lose you on the field. To add to that, it also will track your vital systems and give us on the fly updates about your health, as well as notifying you when you are near death, as rushes of adrenaline can somewhat blind your judgment. So please, take a seat. It will take mere seconds, I promise."

Amy was a bit hesitant, but stepped forward and took a seat at the table. The man beckoned her to hold out her left arm, so she set it on the table and awaited for the Tracer. The man set the device on her arm and pressed a trigger, a sudden stabbing pain going through Amy and ending in a second, causing her to yelp a bit in surprise. The man removed the instrument to reveal a rectangular shape that could be seen through her skin, glowing a hint of blue. There were a few numbers and statistics that could be noticed that she did not completely understand. She got off and rubbed her arm, it still sore from whatever happened there.

"There, it wasn't that hard, was it?" the man said, turning to Sean and Harvey. "Next up, please. We don't want to take all day with such a simple step, do we?"

Harvey sat down and put his forearm out. He had noticed some old tattoos on his arm already, symbols of which he did not recognize - so he figured that the pain would be somewhat similar. When it stamped down into his arm, he felt the pain immediately, however he didn't wince. They would likely be in more pain, judging by the type of missions they would probably be taking on. This was nothing to him.

Looking to his arm after getting up from the seat and joining Amy, he noticed the chip that was stamped into his skin. It was some kind of microchip, extremely advanced and gave off a faint blue glow. He wondered what kind of information it would provide to the scientists... it couldn't just be what the bearded man said.

A quick flash of a vision went through his mind, however only one. It was of him - he was younger again and dressed in military fatigue. He was reclined in a chair at a tattoo parlor. The image of that symbol was being etched into his skin. It vanished from his mind quickly and only seemed to leave more questions.

Looking to Amy, she looked ill. But then, all of them did - even that new Irish guy. Looking at his own skin, he was rather pale. Once they got into the sunlight and out of this... facility... hopefully they would take on a more healthier color. At that, he introduced himself.

"Hey, I'm Harvey Clayton. This is.. quite a place, huh?" Harvey started. "I wish I remembered how we got here - or how we died in the first place..."

Sean cringed slightly at the prospect of having some microchip implanted into his arm; something unnatural just below the skin. It didn't move, but he couldn't help but correlate it to some crawler beneath the skin, or something just as unsettling. He was hesitant at compliance at first, however he noted he had no choice; they were to comply with everything or risk dieing. This time for good. To be honest, he didn't enjoy the idea of service for life with this corporation, but at least he wasn't dead. Everything had its pros and cons, however.

Sean was the final person to sit down. He quivered slightly as he set his arm down, however it was over far to quick to cause him any actual distress. Feeling a slight jolt of pain that made his fingers twitch ever so slightly, he rose from the chair, inspecting this new chip.

It slightly bulged under his skin, however the only notable sign anything was there was the faint illumination of the Tracer's light, and the barely visible silhouette of the chip itself. Sean moved his attention to Harvey, whom was starting small conversation, a much needed break from the tension of this process.

"Yeah, quite the place, if I do say so meself. Blokes did some fine work 'ere..." He wandered, his voice trailing. "Name's Sean Ardghal, by the way-- Sean 'Luck' Ardghal. Blokes used to call me that, all I can remember o' that, really. Nice ta' meet ya." Luck explained, holding out a hand to the other two.

Harvey walked over after receiving his implant, starting conversation. Amy was very relieved that this had happened, as the minutes of keeping to herself were almost getting unbearable. Starting conversation was very hard for her to do right now because of all the conflict in her mind.

"Nice to meet you, Harvey," Amy said to him. "I'm Amy Watson. I'm sort of wondering a lot of those things myself, though I don't really want to know how I died. I feel so strange whenever I think about, thinking about the fact that I'm just a dead person walking..."

Sean came over soon after, looking as curious as they were about the Tracer now inside their arm. Things were happening so fast around here that Amy could hardly handle it. These people clearly were only up to pure business and nothing else.

"I'm glad you can at least remember your own name, Luck," Amy said to Sean with a smile. "If there's one thing we can hold on to, I guess it's that. Pleased to meet you."

"I appreciate that you all are making friends with one another, but please, let us move on," the bearded man said impatiently. He almost had a threatening tone to his speech. Amy looked to the others briefly and then decided it was best they cut this short and leave the chatting for later.

The bearded men led all three of them through the next door. The room was dark and Amy could hardly see anything. All she could hear were muffled cries coming from somewhere in the room. The bearded man flipped the switch and revealed three men kneeling down in a row, their backs against the wall. They all had gags in their mouths and had cuffs on their hands and feet, restricting a lot of their movement. They were completely helpless, fear in their eyes, expecting something that Amy was not aware of.

"What is this?" Amy asked, a bit horrified by what she was seeing.

"This is your first real test," the bearded man said with a slight grin. "Avalon requires your complete loyalty, and we have to make sure you'll be able to do whatever we tell you without hesitation. Even if it means... taking a life."

"You're asking me to kill someone?" Amy asked, surprise evident on her face. "I don't even know who they are!"

"They are criminals, if you really want to know," the bearded man replied quickly. "They are each guilty of at least one count of murder. The one of the left is a child molester and killer. The middle one was a slaver. The one on the right is responsible for brutally murdering nuns and priests in a church and burning the establishment to the ground. Do you really think they will get a peaceful sentence to jail? No one will miss them. You can treat this like you're dealing out justice."

Amy gritted her teeth, staring at the man in front of her, apparently a slave trader. Even if these men were convicted of their crimes, she couldn't just shoot someone. It was so sudden, so wrong. But did she really have a choice? Obviously not. They would just "delete" her if she resisted. Even if they attempted to mistake with all this weaponry they'd just get killed by guards and turrets from the ceiling. Not to mention the Tracer was already put in them. There was literally no realistic escape.

"Go on," the bearded man said. "We haven't got all day. All it takes is the simple pull of a trigger."

Amy felt for her pistol on her hip, but didn't take it out yet. She didn't like this one bit. Her arms were a bit shaky. What was happening was almost too much. She wasn't even sure if she'd be able to aim straight. Amy glanced towards the two others to see if they would take the first shot. She didn't want to go first, that's for sure.

Sean muttered faintly under his breath as the man cut their conversation short - the man didn't seem to notice, or he just didn't care. Ignoring the incident before, he quietly followed the man as he lead them to their next destination. As they were lead into the room, it didn't take Luck long to clue in to what was about to go down. Muffled cries from the other end of the room hid a much more sinister intention for this dark room. When the lights were switched on, Sean almost winced at the sight of the men on the other end of the room.

All doubt was removed as the men were revealed as their targets: criminals whom had killed someone at least once in their lifetimes. They needed to be put down, and this corporation wanted them to do it, in the name of their everlasting loyalty. Sean could understand this - you could never be loyal to a cause if you were afraid to get dirty for it. They also had justification - the blokes were killers, they had no redemption in sight. Worthless. Sean almost winced as he heard 'child molester'; the name set ablaze a hidden fury that he did not realize he had.

Was this some recursion of his past? He felt no memories coming to him, only feelings, instincts, small quirks that hinted himself in his past, free-from-obligation life. It was a curious development, something that crept into his thought process multiple times; covertly, enigmatically. The occurrences held little meaning or revelation, however they stimulated sides of him he felt he either no longer knew existed, or had never felt before.

However the feeling was there, -- the urge to pull the trigger -- burning with great fervour. Without so much as a single command, his hand quickly sprang to his holster, leisurely although firmly ripping the HK45 pistol from its resting place and aiming at the child molester. He thought he heard himself mutter slightly "Burn in 'ell, scumbag." As he pulled the trigger, the fire in his eyes dying down as the man dropped dead, all movement and struggle ceasing as his body fell limp.

Regaining conscious control over his actions and emotions, he slightly recoiled in shock. Almost backing slightly away from his hand as if it were an entity of its own accord in disgust, he slowly slid the weapon into its holster. As he let go of his pistol, he wobbled slightly - had he just gone into a rage? He never remembered thinking of killing the man; in fact, all he remembered thinking of at all was that fact the man was a child molester. It was as if there was a-- gap, gap in his mind: an intermission of thought, as if a scene removed from a film without proper editing. A blank spot.

Was he really like this? He looked over to the others, whom were likely staring at him with concern. He noticed Amy was rather perturbed by the prospect of killing, and it showed as clear as day: her face screamed reluctance and an overwhelmed shock, and her arm wobbled in defiance of squeezing down on the trigger.

Harvey smiled to Amy, who recounted that she remembered nothing as well. He wasn't the only one. After all their introductions and small talk, Harvey was about to tell them of his visions... perhaps fragments of his past memories - however, he was cut short by the bearded man. As he led them into a dimly lit room, and flicked the light, they stood before the three prisoners. As the man said, they were criminals - likely on death row as it is. Their task was evident, clearly put before them without the faintest asking of any of the men. All they did was inform them of the prisoners, and stand there waiting eagerly with their clipboards.

Harvey started to meditate on what he should do. He stood before the proclaimed slaver - a murderer, rapist, and human trafficker. By all counts, he believed that if those crimes were indeed true, the man did deserve to die - or at the least to rot in prison for the rest of his life. In fact, he would have rather preferred the latter option. But, as much as that wish stuck out in his mind, he knew it was abundantly clear that was not a viable option for them. Even if he couldn't remember anything, it was plain as day to see that this was a test to see their loyalty to the company, and their indifference toward killing. Killing others seemed to be a major part of their business coming back to this world.

"What kind of screwed up deal did my past self make with these bastards?" Harvey thought with revolt.

Stepping forward, he knelt down before the prisoner. He wanted to make sure he could talk to them before doing what he was about to do. The prisoner had been beaten, the bruises made that rather apparent. He looked up into the face of Harvey, his sour expression seemed to alleviate.

"You're here to kill me, right?" The prisoner asked.

"Yea." Harvey found it was the only thing he could say then. "Do you have anything you'd like to confess?"

The prisoner seemed almost grateful for this chance.. something that the men behind them seemed to have not counted on. Sitting up straighter, the prisoner spoke. "Yea, I want to confess that I did do those crimes. I'm sorry for them, I never should have done anything as terrible as that. I regret everything..." The prisoner wasn't lying, the tears streaming from his hardened eyes held the truth.

Harvey backed up and drew his HK45 from its holster at his leg. Making sure it was loaded, he prepared to do what he had to.

"Listen... death isn't so bad. I've been there."

Harvey's arm went up quickly, and as if it took no trouble at all, in one move he aimed and shot. The room flashed and all noise was drowned out from the ear-splitting pop of the gun. For some reason, Harvey didn't seem that effected by the noise. He still stood, his pistol arm still stretched outward toward the prisoner - now slumped against the wall. A fine hole bled lightly right at the center of his forehead. The man died within seconds of the shot being fired. Tears still streamed down the man's face... as if he wept in regret even in death.

Harvey lowered his arm and holstered his pistol. He avoided the others' eyes and faced away from the prisoners - the last one looked horror-struck at what had just happened.

Amy watched in awe as Sean and Harvey got over with their jobs one after another. They dealt with it so simply. It was clear to her they were a lot stronger than she was. She couldn't stand the thought of taking a human life. It was so foreign to her, but it had to be done.

"I'm very pleased, gentlemen," the bearded man said with delight, clapping. "Excellent performance, if I may say so myself. Now Amy, it's your turn. If they could do it, you can."

She looked ahead of her at the man she was designated to kill. It's not like she was killing an innocent person after all, right? This man was obviously evil. He was... a burner of churches. This man killed nuns and priests. There was no redemption for someone like this. The only thing that awaited him was Hell.

Amy suddenly felt angry and disturbed all at once. She was simply disgusted that this man was still living before her. He was a blight of this world and even God could not cast his gaze on him. The blood of devils ran through his veins freely. It had to be quelled. Amy did not want to get to know her enemy before she ended him like Harvey did. This heathen needed judgment, and he needed it now.

She took out her Jericho 941 after a few moment of contemplation, aiming it at the prisoner, the man crying in fear. She pulled the slider back, the gun now ready. It was a powerful weapon, truly a great gun. Amy glared at this man, imagining the very crime he committed happening at what seemed to be a place she could hardly recall. The church was burning, women were screaming, people were--

Amy pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the man's chest, causing him to yell in pain. It was not enough. She pulled it twice more, the two hitting him in the stomach, and finished him off with a blow to the head. The wall behind the man was covered in blood, dripping down to the floor. Justice had been served.

Amy's eyes flashed and she came to a realization of what she had done. For some reason hatred took her over, leaving her confused and scared. The same had happened to the other two. It seemed some deep, unlocked hatred flew beneath their veins, possibly some remnant of the past. Were the doctors aware of this flashing symptom?

"Job well done, Amy!" the bearded man said, sounding very pleased. "I knew you could do it. It was... a bit of an overkill, but very good, very good indeed. You have all proven that you have the endurance to work with Avalon. I think they will like the lot of you very much there. I trust you will not be getting yourselves into trouble, because now you know the consequences. You've been warned, children."

The bearded man checked off multiple things on his clipboard and looked back up to them, ready to move on to whatever was next. Amy was getting tired already from all this, and their most recent "test" was still scaring her. She couldn't help but glance every so often at the three dead bodies in the room. After a minute or so a few custodians dragged the bodies away and started to clean the wall and floor with heavy duty tools.

"I'm proud to say that you are all ready to move on to Avalon's training academy," the bearded man said enthusiastically. "Please step out this next door and you'll all be loaded up for transport."

Amy followed the man out the next door into the sunlight, the bright light blinding her for a minute or so until her eyes adjusted. This was the first time she witnessed a real light after her death. The landscape about them was very dusty and hilly, a few groups of trees and bushes every so often. It was not unlike that of Africa, or what Amy knew of Africa before she passed away. The truck they were supposed to get in looked very military. It was colored a dirty looking green and had a cloth covering over the back of it that looked like it had seen better days.

"We may meet again sometime, my friends, but I'm afraid not anytime soon," the bearded man said, sounding quite depressed. "Good luck on your training, all of you. I know you'll pass it. The truck awaits, so we must end this chatter. Get inside the back and they'll take you to your destination."

Amy nodded and entered the back of the truck, now under the shade of the cloth covering. there were no other soldiers in the back, but the two people driving the vehicle could be seen through a window. It's not like they needed to keep guards on them when they had these chips in their arms. Running away was just a stupid idea now.

Amy leaned back on one of the rough seats, tired from this long day. It all happened so quick. There were no comfortable transitions within, it was just one task after another. But the final event scarred her the most. Now she had a death on her hands, and she was hardly herself when she took the life. Something had taken her over, like an impulse. Was that who she was going to be transformed into after this brutal year of training? Amy shook her head and awaited for the other two to get in so she could talk to them. It comforted her when she could speak her mind.

Luck was surprised as he read Amy's sudden reaction. After the two had killed their own targets, she seemed to have concentrated much harder on her task; however there was something more. He could see it in her eyes, the familiar flash of anger -- possibly she was highly religious -- that sent her into a outwardly cold and almost trance-like state. She pulled the trigger quite like the other two, however Luck couldn't help but cringe.

He wasn't the most solemn, or scared, over killing. As far as his instincts told him, it was a dog-eat-dog world, and it was a necessary evil. He didn't enjoy killing, however he saw its use far too much to be hesitant, or contemplative. It just didn't affect him too much - however what Amy did shook him. Whilst Sean and Harvey used precise, one-kill means, Amy likely permitted her rage to undermine her a bit too much. Cruelty showed its face as the man took multiple impacts from the Jericho 941 that Amy packed, her finally ending it with one final shot to the head.

It was ruthless, a waste of ammunition, and just corrupt. He could see instant kills, however there was something about the slow agony of non-lethal (At least not immediately so) that made him feel lines had been crossed. There was a... Personal, almost, reason for this, he could feel, however also a moral one. It just didn't seem right. Luck ignored this as he noticed the bearded man moving them along to transport.

Luck's eyes readjusted to the warm natural light; it was in stark contrast to the sterile, cool fluorescent lights that the building they were put into had along its halls and rooms. He felt no attachment to the facility, however; looking behind him to see the facility gave him a sense of relief, like an animal held captive being set free from its cage. He chuckled, realizing just how much the metaphor fit the situation.

Trying to settle into the truck as best he could, Luck was the first to spark conversation, as he noticed Harvey enter. "So... How is it?" He inquired, attempting to spark conversation.

Harvey watched when Amy took her stand against the prisoner who was a proclaimed church arsonist. He half wished that she wouldn't shoot so she could preserve her innocence... that purity that comes with never having taken another man's blood. However, deep in his mind, he knew she had to; otherwise the men would just shut her down or worse. He caught her sudden movements, and the three shots to the prisoner. He was shocked by the blind wrath that seemed to envelope her being. How could one transform from a rather passive, even non-aggressive young women - to a cruel, hate-driven killer? By all rights, she could have just put a bullet in his head and would have been done with it - but she took the long way... it disturbed Harvey. Something wasn't right here.

He himself had been curiously stoic as he shot his own prisoner. If he was indeed a soldier in the past, he definitely would have been trained to become numb to killing - but only as long as those he killed had a reason to be killed. That semi-indifference seemed to have come back to him then. Now he felt angry - the most being toward the men who were manipulating them to fulfill their own deeds.

The bearded-man had started to shuffle them off to the exit. Leaving the facility was a welcomed sentiment, however the stark green loneliness of the covered truck didn't seen like much of a comfort either. Nonetheless, he followed Amy and Sean to the back and climbed up onto the truck. Sean was the first to say anything, just as the engine came to life and the flap at the back was closed, leaving them in a slight darkness.

"So... how is it?" Sean asked him.

Harvey thought for a moment. He wanted desperately to tell them of his visions... the feelings he was having. He wanted confirmation that he wasn't the only person having such odd flashes. Harvey felt as though he was going insane. Suddenly getting up from his seat, he started to look around the truck for anything that would allow the drivers or the scientists back at the facility listen to them. He was sure this wasn't something to discuss with them... After finding nothing, he sat back down and looked to both of them.

"We shouldn't have had to do that." Harvey stated. "I mean, I'm all for punishing crime, but who the hell said we were executioners? I don't trust this company. I'll work for them only because I have no other choice. The truth is; Amy, Sean, we are just mere puppets now." Harvey said. "And what's worse is that... whatever they did to me back there... I keep having flashes - visions in my head. They happen right in front of my eyes! I... I think they might be mine..."

Harvey fell silent. He had spoken too much, and now he was coming off as some kind of psycho. He only hoped that the other two were having similar experiences...

The other two seemed to be about as troubled as Amy was, so now she didn't feel as alone. What was going on here was obviously wrong. Avalon's true intentions had not been revealed and she didn't expect them to be. They were a shady corporation, and probably not up to any good. Nonetheless, they'd have to listen to them no matter what if they wanted to live.

But was it really worth it? They were essentially slaves now. There was no escape from this life that they had just submitted to. Would it not be easier just to rest in peace for all eternity instead of being in this living Hell?

"I... I think I know how you're feeling, Harvey," Amy said, not looking up from the floor of the truck. "I had... strange things pop into my head as well. I suddenly felt like that man had personally wronged me. It was disturbing. I was like a monster when I killed him."

Amy sat silent for a few moments, thinking a few things over. The doctors and their higher ups probably didn't know about these flashbacks. A flashback was, of course, the evidence that there still was some memory left, right? With the proper amount of prodding you could probably get your full memories back. Their memories weren't erased, they were just pushed back into the recesses of their mind.

"Harvey, Sean..." Amy said, looking at them. "These strange 'flashbacks' that we're all getting... I don't think we should let the others know about them. I believe that they think our minds are completely wiped clean. We shouldn't ever discuss them around everyone. Is that something we can all agree on? I know I want my memories back... Even if they don't want me to get them..."

Sean scratched the back of his head as the other two spoke, readjusting his flatcap onto his head as Amy finished her proposal. "Ah, can't say I've gotten any proper flashbacks yet; I mean sure, a few things 'ere 'nd there, but I've noticed a lot o' quirks, you know. Little personality traits ah mine that I see pop up every so often. I agree on yer plan too - they'll pro'lly do something mighty nasty if we let 'em know whats going on in our 'eads." He remarked, nodding.

Avalon wasn't a very trust-able company, he admitted. There was something about it that didn't set well with him at all: hell, most everything he'd witnessed today had only given him a wary insecurity regarding it. However it was not their place to question their 'masters'. As much as he hated to think of the metaphor, it seemed all too fitting. They were dogs, hounds for a man, an entity -- in this case, Avalon -- for which to hunt down game and foes. They were slaves to their will because they owed them, quite literally, their lives.

Luck couldn't help but look at the positives - they had been saved from death. The great unknown - something no one or no thing knew about, nor something anyone had ventured to and from. With this sparing from eternal silence, they were, to but it quite bluntly, enslaved. They had to work for Avalon for the rest of their lives -- however long they were going to be now -- no matter the reason, need, or prospect.

"Also, m' name's Luck. I know Sean is me real name but... There's somethin' 'bout Luck that I almost prefer." He spontaneously stated, looking over at the others solemnly.

Harvey thought for a moment. Would the doctors love to know what was going on inside their heads? Yes, they likely would - any defect had to be taken care of right? That was the kind of ethic that this company - Avalon - seemed to resonate. Therefore, just as Amy said, they would not tell Avalon of these developments. At the very least, for the sake of their remaining humanity and indeed their sanity, Harvey wished to confide his visions with both of his comrades.

The sad, cold truth was that Harvey no longer had a family. He didn't remember them of course - what they looked like, their memories from the past. A cold feeling overcame him as he thought of his family - perhaps it was a sign that he had none... If they did remain, they likely believed him to be dead (as he rightly should be), or had just fallen from the planet and faded away. It was not the nicest sentiment. To be honest, Harvey yearned for that which he did no longer know.

Looking to both Amy and Luck he told them of his visions so far -

"Listen, you two are the only people I think I can trust... or relate to I suppose. I need to talk to someone about my visions - I think they might actually be pieces of my past. I've seen myself... many times younger. In one flash I think I was wearing military gear - which oddly enough is about the same as what I have now (except this medical robe). In another, I... I shot someone - then I was training. I see all of these things for maybe a few seconds, and they all fade as if it were a dream. How about you guys, what have you seen... or felt?" He added, looking to Luck.