Prologue.3

Vitality Medical Station in Human-controlled space, 2502. One week after the raid on the Elunari Facility.

"Draining Bio-Sculptor. Warning. Draining Bio-Sculptor," repeated a synthetic voice.

I sloshed out of the Bio-Sculptor tube onto the cold, white floor. I began coughing my lungs up as I attempted to clear my system of this awful gel-like substance. I imagine this is what bleach tastes like.

After coughing for a good few minutes, I looked up at the man dressed in all white with a datapad standing over me. "Commander Kronos of Hades Squad?" he asked.

"Yes, that's me," I croaked.

Damn, this gel really dries your throat out. The nurse tossed me a warm bottle of water, which I promptly destroyed in seconds. Ah, much better. Although I need to consume much less water than a Human, the water was still refreshing.

"What is the last thing you remember, Commander Kronos?"

"Being admitted to Vitality Station to regrow my left hand." I fired back.

The nurse began tapping away at his datapad and continued. "And last question. How old are you, Kronos?"

"Fifteen standard years old," I replied.

The nurse looked confused at my answer and knitted his brows at me as if I was lying. I was currently naked and standing over him by nearly two feet. My appearance betrayed my age. However, I really was only fifteen.

After a few moments of swiping away at his datapad, he responded with a nod, "So you are…what on Earthl did they feed you?"

"Nutrient paste," I answered non-committedly.

With a look of slight disgust, the nurse furrowed his brow and said, "Nutrient paste, huh…" He shrugged and continued talking. "Anyways, you don't seem to have any side-effects from the Bio-Sculptor. You will be aboard Vitality Station for another three weeks while your hand finishes the regrowing process. Head Doctor Suárez will be your primary care physician while you are on board… and your room is one one seven in the blue east sector. Clothes are on the table before you leave. Any questions?"

"None."

The nurse gave me another nod and walked out of the room. I tried to flex my leftt hand but realized I currently didn't have fingers. My wrist and palm had regrown over my time in the Bio-Sculptor, but it would take at least a week or so for my fingers to come back. I walked over to the jet-black sleepwear they left for me and slipped it on.

I disliked this three-week waiting period. But, I was at the mercy of the medical staff while I was here. There wasn't much for me to do in this kind of situation. I didn't need to eat or sleep as often as Humans. There was nowhere I could train at this station where I wouldn't cause damage. And I didn't do anything else but train or go on missions. So with nothing left to do, I just opted to sleep. Maybe it will help my hand grow back faster, and get me out of here sooner.

—

I jolted out of bed, sweating and breathing heavily. Damn, another one. It's only been seventy-two hours since I rolled out of the Bio-Sculptor and this is the second time I've had the same dream. Or I guess people might call this a nightmare.

The events on Odeus 5 replay over and over again until I wake up in a cold sweat. I hear the final words of that Xeno child and watch as I fail to grab him.

I'm not sure what's more problematic. The fact I've never had a dream in my entire life until now or that this event is somehow affecting me. Not wanting to think about it, I rolled out of bed and hopped into the sanitation unit, cleaning myself. The chemical dispenser hissed and sprayed my body, cleaning everything in just under a minute.

I strode through the halls; the recovering marines or medical personnel were moving out of my way. Thankfully, these hallways were much broader and higher than usual so I could walk comfortably down them. The mess hall was a large room with rows upon rows of benches and a serving counter where people dished out food to recovering soldiers.

I grabbed a tray and avoided the lunch line. Instead, I headed straight to the nutrient paste dispenser, which didn't have a line. Does nobody ever grab this stuff? It's really good for you.

I sat down in the corner of the room and began chowing down. I had come to enjoy the taste of nutrient paste. I often heard the regs complain about how bland the stuff was, but it wasn't bad. It was also the most efficient thing a soldier could eat anyways.

I sat alone and looked out into the vast room. Everybody was sitting a healthy two whole tables away from me like I was a disease. But it didn't bother me. It was par for the course actually. I was about to finish my food when a short Hispanic woman wearing a dark blue lab coat walked over to me carrying a meal tray.

"Seat taken, Commander?" I motioned to one of the many open seats around me. And, of course, she sat down directly in front of me. The Doctor in front of me was probably in her early thirties. Brown hair and eyes, average height. Let's see, and she's th—

"Are you checking me out, Commander Kronos?" she asked innocently with a smile on her face, wrapping her arms around to cover herself.

"That's not the word I'd use, Head Doctor Suárez. I'm just simply investigating you, that's all."

"Ah, well, you're no fun," Suárez said dejectedly. The Doctor straightened her lab coat and gave me a professional smile. "Anyways, it's nice to meet you, Commander Kronos. I'm the lead Doctor on this station. And I apologize that I haven't had time to speak to you since you have arrived. I was a little preoccupied with a fresh batch of marines off of Odeus 5."

"It's fine. I'm just passing the time at your station. I don't need any extra care while I'm here."

"Nonsense! I pride myself on being the most passionate and compassionate doctor in the Navy! It's unforgivable that I've neglected you these last few days, especially someone as important as you, Commander!" Suárez stated, standing up from the bench and striking a pose with her spoon in her hand.

Not wanting to draw any more attention than I'm already getting, I attempted to defuse the ranting doctor. "Yes, yes, of course. It's fine. My hand is growing back fine, and I'm in no pain to speak of. I'm sure there are plenty of people on this ship who need your help far more than I do."

"I suppose you are right, however, I want you to come in for some checkups next week." I was about to protest when she hit me with "non-negotiable checkups, Commander." Not wanting to risk the wrath of the doctor who decides when I get to leave this station, I simply nodded and agreed to her terms.

Death Commandos were in a weird gray area in the military. We weren't technically part of any branch of the military. Instead, we were directly under the control of the big wigs on Mars and almost a sub-branch of the military in the Federation. Although we did obey the chain of command, I suppose we were more like a… private army of sorts. But I knew where my loyalties lay.

"However, there is something I want to discuss with you, Commander. I have to admit this is the first time I've met a Gen 1 Commando. There aren't many of you guys left out there after all," she said with a tint of remorse.

"It's fine, really. To be expected even. We were merely weapons to be used in the service of Humanity."

"Huh… so it is true," Suárez said incredulously. "I read some reports about the evangelists being pretty aggressive with you guys and how you often diffused the situation just by agreeing with them. But do you really believe you aren't a real Human, Commander Kronos? That you don't have a soul?"

Here we go again.

I've already had this conversation an infinite amount of times. When I was first deployed, many were so zealous in their efforts to demonize us Gen 1s, spouting how we weren't real Humans and we lacked a soul.

Of course, I agreed with them. This would often surprise the vast majority of them. It was hard for these people to call out the thing they were complaining about when I just sat there nodding my head agreeing with them. I never considered myself to be an actual Human—just a weapon for Humanity to wield. I was grown in a tube on Mars after all, and I doubt I had a so-called "soul," if those even existed.

"If you have read my file, Doctor, then I am sure you understand my opinion on these matters. I, along with all of my comrades, understand what we are and what our purpose is. There is no mistake. We are not real Humans, and we never will be. Doctor Octario created us in a lab. I spent my first few months of life in a tube, only to come out as an adolescent. Before I even reached my first decade of life, I was already a man being sent into battle. We are soulless, intelligent weapons, not Humans," I stated with conviction.

Doctor Suárez stared at me with a look of shock for a few moments while tapping her rice with her spoon. "Have you ever heard the saying Commander, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it's probably a duck? Well, you look like a Human, walk like a Human, talk like a Human, so you're probably a Human, Commander."

"Such a simple line of deduction doesn't apply to us, Doctor. We are merely weapons masquerading as Humans." The doctor's wristwatch let out an alarm as she sighed. "Duty calls. This conversation isn't over, Commander. You and I are going to have lunch together every day until you leave this station."

I raised my finger to protest when. "NON-NEGOTIABLE! A prescription of a daily lunch with the cutest Head Doctor on the station for Mr. Commander Kronos!"

I sat back down as she beamed at me with her spoon in hand, pointing at me. Flinging rice onto my face in the process. I simply nodded to confirm as she picked her tray up and left. I enjoyed the remainder of my cold nutrient paste in peace and silence.

—

It's been two weeks since I've been on this station, and I'm beginning to grow restless. My daily prescription dose of Doctor Suárez was starting to wear me down. I didn't have a huge social battery but it seemed the doctor's was infinite. So to alleviate myself, I decided I'd go on a nightly jog around the station. I had just made it back to the crew quarters when one of the crew doors slid open and out came a familiar face.

"Heimdall. It's good to see you," I said.

The man's eyes went wide with surprise, but he gave me a big smile. "Howdy ho! It's even better to see you, kid. I'd say you look good but it seems you're missing some fingers there young man."

My fingers had only regrown the first digit at this point, and I could start flexing them now. They looked very awkward.

"I've had it worse," I responded.

"Oh, I know you have, boy. Come walk with me a bit."

Heimdall was one of the first Gen 2 Death Commandos I had in my squad. He eventually got promoted to Commander as well and even leads his own team now. He was on the shorter side for a Gen 2, and he had some kind of reaction to the implants that grayed his hair out. Even though he was only in his late twenties, he looked twenty years older.

"What brings you to this station, Heimdall? You seem fine to me."

"Oh, you know, just getting a routine checkup. Nothing special, just the usual. Besides, I'd choose beautiful Doc Suárez over old hag Octario any day, ahaha!"

"In your dreams, Heimdall. You don't stand a chance against her," I quipped at him.

"Did you just? Never mind… anyways, that was cold, kid. A man can dream, can't he?"

"Not a fan of dreaming currently."

He frowned at my harsh words but didn't press me, and I didn't mean to say that so aggressively either. Heimdall led us to the rehabilitation ward, and I was about to ask him what we were doing here when he opened the door to reveal a large white room with brown pads on the walls. It had a bunch of Parallel Bars for patients' rehabilitation. He walked over to one and slid out the metal bar from its housing, and tossed it to me.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked as the bar rolled down my chest and into my hand.

"You are stressed out, kid. You haven't unclenched your fists since we started talking. I can tell they got you cooped up in here with nothing to do but sit on your ass. So, we are gonna spar a bit."

"Heimdall, I'm fine, really. Besides, it's against the rules, and you know that."

"Get the stick out of your ass, kid. You know you want to. Besides, did somebody give you orders saying you couldn't swing a metal bar around with an old squadmate?"

"No…. I guess not."

Heimdall grinned and chuckled to himself, almost like some kind of evil villain. "Then let's get to it! I promise I'll go easy on my crippled Commander!"

I spun the improvised staff around. It was difficult when I was missing two-thirds of my fingers on a hand, but I would make do. It felt good to swing something heavy around instead of just doing bodyweight exercises all day. Heimdall didn't give me much time to warm up as he ran straight for me, smiling his wicked smile. Crazy man. I mainly just deflected his blows as I couldn't challenge him with one hand.

"Say kid, what are you gonna do after the war?" he asked me in between blows.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, the war isn't gonna last forever. We have already crushed a majority of the Xeno council races. The Elunari might have a lot of worlds but they are going to run out of them eventually. There are even some whispers of peace talks," Heimdall said all this while attacking me relentlessly.

So much for going easy on me.

"I don't know. I'll probably stay with the Commandos 'til the day I die," I responded honestly.

"Bullshit! A young man like you should have DREAMS! ASPIRATIONS! You don't need to fight forever. There are plenty of things you can do! You can train the next generation! Hell, you could even go private! I'm sure people would pay top dollar for a Death Commando chief of security." Heimdall didn't really give me time to think as he backed me into a corner.

"I haven't thought about it, Heimdall," I said, grunting while kicking him away from me. "Besides, I don't think that far ahead about unimportant things. I'll go wherever Humanity needs me." He swung at my legs as I leaped over him using the bar like a pole vaulter.

"BAH! There you go with that 'Humanity needs me' shit. You've done plenty for us, boy! Make your old man a promise, and think about the future a bit, will you? Go settle down somewhere, buy a farm, and live your days out in peace. I'm sure you and Nyx would be very happy together."

What?

He stopped, sweating and staring at me with an intensity I'm not sure I've ever seen from him. And when did he become my old man? He's only thirteen years older than me. And what's all this talk about Nyx being happy with me? I sighed.

"Sure thing, old man. I'll give it some thought."

He just gave me a big stupid smile. "Good… good. I know that's all I'm gonna get out of you today. I gotta go kid. I can see you are already feeling much better," he said with a satisfied nod.

Huh. Maybe Heimdall did understand me. I do feel a lot better. Matter of fact, I haven't felt this good in weeks.

"Thanks, Heimdall," I said honestly.

"Anytime, kid. Next time we meet, I'll buy you a drink or something… ah, wait, shit, you got a few more years for that, huh? Eh, whatever. I doubt anyone is going to check your birthday, you bald-headed demon, haha!" He walked out, tossing me his makeshift weapon that was now dented to hell and back.

What am I supposed to do with this?

—

It's my final day at this station. My hand is brand new and feels perfect. Usually, a soldier would just have their hand replaced with a bionic one, but my normal hand was much more efficient than some simple bionic replacement. The month I had to take off would be worth it in the long run. I just have one final examination left, and I can return to Hades Squad. They are still on Odeus 5, mopping up the last of the Elunari forces.

"Sooo Kronos, I have a question for you. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a few Parallel Bars being destroyed, would you?" asked Doctor Suárez, eyeing me.

"Sorry."

"Sorry as in you did it or sorry you don't know?"

"Sorry," I replied again.

She just smiled at me and began tapping away at her datapad. "Serious head trauma… requires two weeks of observation…" she mumbled out.

"Commander Heimdall of Asgard squad did it."

Sorry old man, I apologized internally.

"That man…. In the future, please refrain from smashing my medical equipment. They might just have been some metal bars to you, but that stuff is expensive!"

Rather than repeating myself again, I just gave a nod of understanding. I really didn't mean to break the stuff. It just kind of happened. Besides, Heimdall was the one who went hard, not me.

Doctor Suárez sighed at me and continued. "Well, your hand looks good. All your scans are coming back just fine, and your one week of rehab was a success. So I'd say you are in tip-top shape. Unless there is something else? Perhaps you wanna stick around just to see me some more?"

Oh no, I definitely didn't want that. But there was something…

"Do you dream, Doctor?" I asked.

"Huh? I mean, yeah, of course. Don't we all?"

"What do you normally dream about? If you don't mind me asking."

"Well… nothing really. They are just dreams. My dreams are just a weird mess of random things that I end up mostly forgetting as soon as I wake up. I mean like, for example, I had a dream last week where I just walked out the airlock and started swimming in space."

"Swimming in space? I see…" I answered.

"What, do you normally not have weird dreams, Commander?" Suárez asked me.

"No, I've only started dreaming recently."

I omitted some details, not wanting to mention that they might actually be nightmares rather than dreams.

Suárez tapped a pen against her chin thoughtfully. "Huh. I'm not an expert on dreams… let alone the mental workings of a genetically created super-soldier. But I mean you sleep, so you should dream, right? I don't know what to say… I guess I'll just send a refferal and Doctor Octario can probably help you out. It might take some time for her to get back to you."

"I understand, she is a busy woman and that would probably be for the best. Thank you, Doctor," I said with a nod.

I didn't think she would be able to help me. If anybody knew what was wrong with me, it would be Octario.

She turned her datapad towards me. "Place your hand on the scanner, and you are set to go, Commander." I did as I was told and was rewarded with a little beep of confirmation.

"Well, this is it, Commander. You are free to go. Just one more thing. Try to live for yourself, just a little bit, okay? And don't be so hard on yourself either. You are a good man. You don't need to go through life like this," she said to me with a wry smile.

"I'll do my best, Doctor," I answered.

She gave me a salute as I began to walk out. Of course, she didn't need to salute me, and I didn't need to salute. But I turned and returned the salute anyway.

I went back to my room and slipped on my undersuit. It felt good to be back in it. With a satisfied nod, I made my way towards my ride. The hangar of a medical station always smelled unhealthy.

It was an awful concoction of oil and cleaning chemicals that singed my nose hairs. I walked towards the shuttle that had a young woman with black hair waiting for me on the ramp, giving me a warm smile. She needs to stop making this a habit.

Or maybe I should just stop losing limbs.

"Welcome back, Commander," chimed Nyx.

"It's good to be back."

—

Mars. Mount Olympus facility 2502.

A very tired and very annoyed Secretary's POV.

I walked into the cold lab and found Doctor Octario as she usually is. She was completely engrossed in work and tuning out the outside world.

"I have a medical report that you should read, ma'am."

The older woman had salt and pepper hair and wore a filthy jet-black lab coat. She shuffled some paper off her desk and gave me a side-eye glare. "Just send it to me, and I'll get around to it."

I sighed internally. It was times like this that I hated my job. But she was the leading scientist for Humanity. A one in a billion type genius. It makes me wonder if they are all like this.

"I believe it to be important, ma'am. It's in regards to A002," I said as calmly and professionally as possible.

She made a weird noise that was a mixture between a grunt and a snarl. "What's wrong with it? I get medical reports about the first generations all the damn time. What makes this one so special?'' questioned the older woman.

I brought the datapad to my face and began reading the report aloud. "A Doctor Kassandra Suárez of Vitality Medical Station recently reported that A002 had successfully regrow his han—"

She slid her office chair back and turned to face me. "Will you just tell me what is so interesting! My weapons lose limbs all the damn time. I don't care about that stuff!" the Doctor yelled in frustration.

I want a raise.

"Doctor Suárez reported that A002 admitted to having dreams for the first time and sought consultation," I said, jumping to the point.

The older woman blinked a few times as her brain processed what I had just said. It was almost like she was surprised I was doing my job…

"Wait, what?! It had a dream? That's not supposed to happen."