The year 2090. Black facility 47.
"The subjects experienced lethal hemorrhaging in the brain, and those that didn't couldn't handle the increased neural activity, leading to several psychological problems including psychopathy, retardation, induced autism, and- "
"So what you're telling me... is that it failed again."
"...Yes sir."
"Sigh..."
The head director sighed after receiving the report from one of his officers. He then stood up and walked to a window where he could oversee a few dozen capsules containing adult males. All of them were either sleeping or undergoing surgical operations.
This was black facility 47. It was a top secret base whose purpose was to carry out the super-soldier program.
This program was supposed to create and engineer enhanced soldiers that surpassed human limits and worked alongside machines, creating the perfect human weapon. This consisted of extreme training, genetic engineering, and cybernetic enhancement. However, despite having the program ongoing for nearly 5 years, the results were dismal. Hundreds died under the experiments and tests, and those that didn't were almost always hurt or disabled in some way.
Black facility 47 was, in fact, one of the few remaining facilities that still ran the program. There used to be 50, but when information leaked about the projects to the public and soldiers started mysteriously dying or disappearing, many facilities were shut down. Only the more successful ones, like facility 47, stayed operational. But that success was starting to disappear, and the looming threat of shutting down was nigh.
If he wasn't careful, the head director might also 'disappear' along with the facility's shutdown, something which had happened to other directors for the sake of keeping information under wraps. This was a dangerous job to be in, but risk came with reward, and if he could find a way to succeed, he would enjoy walking one of the highest paths in life along with the elites.
This dilemma made the director anxious, desperate, and scared, but also hopeful. He never lost sight of gaining status, and by now, he was willing to do anything to achieve his goal. That fire was starting to grow dim though. It had been a long time since he had heard good news.
Fortunately though, today was one of those rare days.
"We were able to find something though, sir."
"Hm? What is it?"
The director turned his head back to the officer giving the report. This officer was one of his most trusted aides, and he would never give false hope.
"We think we might have narrowed down the best candidates. You see, we've consistently had better results with younger subjects, especially those at least under the age of 24. There was recently a recruit that I pulled who was age 16, and he-"
"What?! You pulled a minor as a subject?!"
Suddenly, the director flew into a rage. Doing something like that was a huge violation of protocol. Just the fact that this officer went over his head to do something so risky almost made him pull his gun and shoot the man. His trust in this officer though made him hesitate, and that gave the officer the chance to hastily explain himself.
"Please let me explain, sir! Yes, the recruit was age 16, but he was an orphan from a school in the slums. There's nobody who had any connection to him, and I left no trace of his kidnapping."
"..."
"Besides that though, this subject showed the best results yet! Sir, he was able to get through all the preliminary trials without injury. We were even able to move onto phase 3 before he showed signs of rejection to the treatment."
"..."
The director stayed silent, and eventually removed his hand from his holster. The officer sighed and continued.
"Sir, I think we've found the answer. Younger subjects. Their adaptability far outstrips older soldiers, both psychologically and physiologically. They're the key to creating supersoldiers. If it's with them, it can be done!"
"...Do you know what will happen if word of this leaks?"
"Yes, sir. But if we don't succeed at all, if we don't take the risk, then we won't have any hope. Sir, I've done the tests. If we can get young subjects, around the age of 6, then we'll be able to utilize their adaptability and raise them into supersoldiers. It might take time, but if we doctor the documents to show the success of the young subjects, we can buy time."
"...All of this assumes we succeed."
"Nothing is a guarantee, sir. However, if you give me the green light, I'll do everything myself. Nothing will leak. Please trust me, sir."
The officer pleaded with the director. It wasn't just the director's life that was on the one. His was too, as was his family's. He was even more desperate than the director.
The director paced around the room hearing his officer. This was exceptionally risky, but the officer was right. They needed to succeed. Failure wasn't an option. If this risk had a chance of success, then he needed to take it.
As for the morality, the director had already gone beyond that. The things he carried out in this program crushed that sense years ago. It was all business now. Besides, his superiors only cared about results. If anything, from the things he knew about, they were more demented than him.
After taking a second to ponder, he made his decision.
"Alright... You do what you need to do. I'm giving you full authority. However, if I find that anything leaks out..."
"That won't happen, sir. I've never failed you before."
"Then go. Start as soon as possible."
"Understood."
Saluting, the officer hastily left the room. The director also plopped down in his chair, both uneasiness and hope flickering through his eyes.
..........
......
The year 2115, 25 years later...
"Mr. President. We have an emergency."
In a secure room inside a towering skyscraper, the president and several other officials sat at a conference table. This meeting had been called within the last 10 minutes in response to a sudden event.
"Let me hear it."
"There's been an attack recently on one of our facilities. It's the Council."
"Of course it is... What did they hit?"
The president sighed tiredly. This was the name of the largest criminal syndicate in the world, and they were the bane of governments across the globe. This wasn't the first time they've come up, and lately, they had been attacking various facilities around the continent.
"They hit black facility 108."
"108... Which one is that?"
"It's the facility running Project Wonderland, sir."
"What?!"
Suddenly, the president snapped to attention.
Project Wonderland was one of their most classified projects, and it was also one of the most heavily guarded. To think that place got raided. Even if it was by the Council, it was an impossible task to pull off.
"How long ago was it raided?!"
"The last transmission we received was 2 hours ago, but we've been able to track them down to where they took the stolen project tech."
"So you have their location? Is it accurate?"
"Yes, sir. We have a strike team ready to deploy. We're sending in SS team alpha, but we need your signature before he can deploy."
"...Very well."
Hearing that name, the president went quiet for a second before nodding. To send in that 'team' meant that the situation really was dire, but that's exactly why he had to go.
He was then handed the papers, and once they were signed, one of the generals sent a transmission to an unknown location. The green light on the raid to retake their tech was given.
................
Meanwhile, 20 miles away from the location that the criminal syndicate was holding the tech, SS team Alpha was lying in wait inside a small safe house, around which was a bustling city with tall buildings and neon signs.
This team consisted of a single person. It was a boy, no more than 18 years of age. He was 6ft tall, had brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin. He looked just like an ordinary guy who would be going into college soon.
This boy was sitting on a couch inside the safe house reading a book that looked more like a manuscript, wearing sweats and a hoodie that covered his body. The cover of the book said 'Beyond Good and Evil', and the boy was reading it relaxedly.
"What's with you and always reading those books, huh?"
Suddenly, a voice came from another room. A man came walking in. He had a long brown beard and looked like some kind of lumberjack, speaking in a rough voice. His clothes were in shambles with a few stains.
The boy looked away from his book and toward the lumberjack who was taking a swig from a big bottle of hooch, likely the source of the stains.
"Maybe you should read this book some time. Friedrich Nietzsche is one of the most brilliant men to ever live. His books could teach you a thing or two about leading life."
"You think I need advice from a kid like you? Besides, those books are banned nowadays, especially to you. How'd you get your hands on one?"
"It's called the internet and a printer. Plus a little help from a certain level of security clearance."
Saying that, the boy held up a card. It was metal, and seeing it, the lumberjack's eyes went wide.
"Since when did you steal my card?!"
"I've had it for a week actually."
"Y-you..."
"Next time be more careful when you decide to pass out drunk. And you should really start keeping track of your stuff. Even knowing you, I'm surprised you haven't noticed it was gone."
"Shut up, brat! Give me that."
Snatching the card back, the lumberjack huffed and took another swig. The boy smirked and went back to reading the book. After calming down and finishing his drink, the man spoke again.
"By the way, they gave the green light. You're due to start in 30."
"Oh, alright."
"You need to be careful this time. I know you've gone up against them before, but the stuff they took is some dark shit. There's definitely a trap in place."
"But whatever do you mean? According to the intelligence report, they only stole a few medicine vials and a giant magnet."
The boy chuckled deviously as he picked up the briefing. On it described the stolen items that were supposedly some medicine vials and a small particle cyclotron, but those were obviously just covers for what they really were.
"Don't play stupid, brat. That's the kind of information people 'kill themselves' over. To have stolen that stuff means there's big shit going down, so screw your head on straight."
"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a twist. Not my first rodeo."
"Excuse me?! You better shut that trap otherwise I'll make you wear actual panties on this operation, you pussy!"
"Huhu, I apologize for my language, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mission to prepare for."
Chuckling, the boy saluted the fuming lumberjack and disappeared into a back room. Seeing him go, the man just sighed and took out a cigar, lighting it and puffing out some smoke.
"Damn supersoldiers always think they can talk smack. I've been his superior for over a decade. Don't I deserve a little respect?! Hmph."
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