And "War"

"Fuck"

"This really hurts"

"wheezzszszs"

"What is... Going on?"

"WHEEZszszszzzsss"

Alex could barely see in the darkness which was unusual for him as he had spent hundreds of hours in the forest hunting and stalking wild game.

"hssrr WHeezzszszzz"

Every breath that he took created a funny sound and pain immediately radiated through his entire body. Alex was semi-conscious, awareness of what had just happened was beginning to fade.

"hsrsrsrsrs whhhessss"

Alex could move his head just enough to see what was wrong though he immediately regretted his decision to do so. Fear, total FEAR gripped him as pain shot through his chest. He began to cry.

"hss wheezszs"

As his breathing began to slow and became increasingly labored his eyes could not remove themselves from the sight of a massive hole torn through the left side of his chest. Pieces of bone and flesh seemed to have been almost pulled from his body with similar traits of the reckless abandon a child would give to peeling an orange. The mess of mangled flesh and muscles soaked in a dark red liquid had the characteristics of a pile of pulp from a juicy, ripe peach.

"hss whezsss"

This time he could tell what the source of this peculiar sound was. Every time he tried to inhale his blood created a soft gargling sound as it poured down the back of his throat and into his damaged lungs. Consequently the wheez was created by the blood coming back up into his mouth like a fountain, while simultaneously a modest amount of blood would spray out from his damaged lungs like a fine mist comparable to the water mist in the produce section of his local grocery store.

Alex was no fool.

He knew the score.

Unable to hold his head up any longer, it flopped backwards with a quiet thud.

Tears and blood cascaded down the sides of his face.

Alex died moments later in a state of incredible pain and fear. His mind was starved of oxygen and unable to continue the required transfer of electrical signals to the rest of his body.

This occurred at 11:27pm on a Saturday night in the abandoned train station, terminal A-10-6 out just across the river close to the logging camp. His broken body would be found the next day when a wandering hobo came upon it and notified the authorities.

WHACK!!!!

"Get the fuck up you little shit"

WHACK!!!

"It's time for food, you dogs have the inspection today so no fucking slacking"

Alex awoke in a daze, like the day before, the guards were grumbling and running around in a frenzy. Beating the bars of each cell up and down the hallway, the only thing that was different was that they were in dress uniform instead of the regular black and red fatigues. Today was Prison Inspection day where the military Nobles and those of Royal blood would come and observe training and daily work duties to develop a budget for whatever prison it was that they were assigned to that month. Prison is not where Alex found himself. It is more along the lines of a military style "re-education" camp.

Alex immediately dropped off the top bunk onto the cold, damp floor and immediately began cranking out push-ups and sit-ups. After doing two sets of 50 for each exercise he slipped into his fatigues and pulled on his work boots making sure that he doubled the knot as to not have to worry about it later. His bunk mate was finally roused from his deep slumber by another pass of the guards who continued to beat the bars with their heavy wands.

"Good Morning kid, how's it going?" Asked Alex's friend Aldearo who was a good 6'3" roughly 250lb older gentlemen who sported a shiny bald head and an enormous smile.

"Same old same old, Aldo" Alex replied.

"Did you have that dream again Alex? You look a little pale around the edges". Aldo asked with a concerned look on his face.

"Yea I did, can't shake that metallic taste in my mouth" Alex replied. Ever the perceptive and curious interrogation expert, Aldo had taken Alex under his instruction about a year ago when they first met. Alex's frequent nightmares and ability to always find a way to piss off the wrong people with his sly comments made him stick out. Alex was an average kid, almost identical to Aldo's son including the same age and mannerisms which gave Aldo a warm feeling.

Alex enjoyed Aldo's company and he was sure that the older gentlemen was making moves behind the scenes in the Reformation hierarchy for his benefit.

Alex had assumed that the last year he spent getting adjusted was not an unusual situation for the people who are always thrust into this new and uncomfortable reality. This building housed thousands of inmates and hundreds of guards with a large maintenance corps highly trained elite soilders from the Military Academy and an equally qualified administrative staff.

"Aldo why are these inspections scheduled so regularly for some facilities and not others"? Alex had heard a transferred resident speak of a few facilities, of comparable size to the one Alex was currently living in, that received almost no inspections throughout the year. Alex had come to find that his facility was inspected just about two times a month.

"Well its hard to say..." Aldo begen as the bars which maintained what was the front of their cell evaporated silently and dissolve into a black mist which almost instantly dissipated. The main hall lights switched from a pale red which was to designate sleeping hours to a piercing white with a blue tint which was barely visible but added a texture nonetheless.

"I would say that its most likely important that they do these inspections as frequently as possible here because of how many gifted individuals are brought in from other installations or directly materialized in the lab of Dr. Goods". Aldo continued as their hallway filled with residents dressed in their best (or in some cases more elegantly worn down) red and black fatigues with the classification caps worn facing forward and angled down so that the eyes were barely visible. These caps were of great importance to all residents/ inmates because they denoted their rank and position amongst the others.

"Between those who are gifted that arrived here through any means and the amount of capital that is invested by the military to study them, I could imagine that the operation is very valuable and produces research opportunities that none of the other facilities have". Aldo explained.

"Well that makes sense, the guards always act more restrained when its inspection day... now weather that is a form of harsher treatment from their higher ups which trickles down to us or a way to have them be rewarded for taking care of the "quality stock" is beyond me". Alex said as the line of people plodded down the hallway in almost perfect sleepy synchronization. As they traveled down 56 flights of massive stairs which looked as if Giants 100ft tall once used them Alex could begin to smell the food.

"Honestly I enjoy the inspections" Alex spoke with a wide (almost sinister) smile.

"I would do them every day if it meant I could eat the Mechanics Corps cooking".

"Fucking right Alex" Aldo said while breaking out his signature smile accompanied by a generous thumbs up.

"The regular administration cooks could learn a bit more from the boys rotating from the front"

Silence fell upon the residents of Tower 966 as the men began to file solemnly in to the cavernous entrance to the massive cafeteria. No one dared to speak or act out in front of the Mechanics. Battle hardened and with the least of them being over 400 years old, the Mechanics of triple six corps were no pussies. Legendary fighters from a war which has been raging for millions of years, Mechanics Corps 666 always stationed a division of 16,000 troops at the Tower 966 Diagnostic facility and rotated them every three months depending on the needs at the front.

Mechanics (maintenance) is their call-sign, in reality they are soilders who fight using large mechanized fighting suits and a wide array of armored tactical vehicles imbued with magical essence. The residents of the tower were the actual mechanics and maintenance personal, not qualified for battle but not entirely useless the "inmates" oversaw the retrofitting/maintenance/construction of the mech suits and armored vehicles. In what some would describe as a righteous trade off the Mechanics Corps would cook for two weeks upon the beginning of their three month rotation back to the Tower from the front lines. Also special operations officer groups from the 66 Division (the smallest but most highly decorated divisions in the 250,000 strong corps) would take up arms in the battle against hunger on every inspection day. The officers would try every time to out do one another in the kitchen and the Captain of the most successful company (out of which there were 64 companies) would earn an extra two weeks of leave for him and his men.

Alex always thought that the military in the Great Union Empire was extremely cool. The fact that a tiny military which comprised less than one percent of one percent (>1% of 1%) of the total Empire's population completely dominated the battle spaces of subsurface, surface, air and inter-planetary conflicts was just astounding to Alex. Though now, standing in front of a lieutenant wearing an apron which was strained by his enormous size and musculature along with a hair bonnet whos call-sign was CHOP and had the insignia of a veteran who has 500 years of combat experience his faith wavered. Every time this man's company was serving breakfast Chop was always in the back of the line at a checkout counter managing the others and taking residents tickets for extras like more meat, juice or additional bread. This time Alex had finally worked hard enough to score a meal ticket for extra meat which was an honor reserved for residents who basically slave their asses off doing extra work. Alex approached Chop confidently, at the counter Alex handed Chop his ticket but for some reason Chop took a step back in less than a second and snapped to attention with an extremely smart salute.

"Snap to boys Superior on deck"!!! Chop screamed but with power and grace, not anger or hysteria.

Completely stunned alex turnd his head slowly to look down the line towards Aldo, he could see that every member of the company was at full attention giving equally impressive salutes. Alex wondered if this was all some prank on him or were they confused about who he was. Alex knew he was handsome and that the uniform gave him a dark and mysterious look about him (or so he thought). Alex was just about to crack open a sly smile and shout "at ease gentlemen" when a quick glance at Aldo stopped him in his tracks. Aldo was not looking at Alex but was focused on something behind him. The look Aldo had on his face screamed one thing, FEAR.

"At ease my friends" came a soft almost sing-song voice from somewhere behind Alex.

Just then Alex felt like he was falling, gravity seemed to intensify, his frame of reference of what was up and down seemed to falter.

"so cold" Alex's voice, though completely in his head seemed so infinitely small.

His sight developed a tremendous case of tunnel vision.

"Everyone will leave now"

There was that voice again. The words almost drove Alex to madness. He was undoubtedly about to pass out, now his vision failed him and he felt the lonely isolation of a tiny grain of sand floating in interstellar space beginning to overwhelm him.

"Are you alright child"?

Alex was suddenly aware that he was sitting down on a recliner in a decent sized room with large tinted windows along the opposite wall of which he was situated against. The memory of Aldo's expression (nothing short of pure horror) and the pressurized enclosure of white noise (he was sure he was just trapped in forever) began to fade away. Alex focused on the voice he just heard.

"little one are you alright? The effects should be wearing off right now so just nod if you understand and can at least hear me, ok?"

Alex did as he was told and nodded twice. Finally his eyes were able to sharpen the image and laid to rest on a young man wearing a black suit with jet black hair, powerful red eyes and a modest black tie with "I Love You Daddy" crudely written in pink slanted letters reading from bottom left to top right.

"Ah I see you have noticed this beautiful treasure of mine" The strange man said in a serious way but with a hint of sarcasm.

"When she was young my daughter was infatuated by black and pink, to some extent I believe she still is" He said with a more gentle tone.

"I apologize for taking this long to introduce myself to you but here we are... Alex I am the Supreme Alliance Commander for ALL of Her Majesty's forces in the 5th Great War".

"You can just call me Marcellus or Prince"

Alex nodded

"If its all the same sir I will just call you M because it sounds cooler... kind of like a dj from back where I am from". Alex was empty, spent all his energy trying just to stay alive and keep his mental faculties from oozing out from his ears just a few moments ago.

"ha... haha... hahaHaHaHaHaHa" The gentlemen who he now knew as M began to laugh hard. This reaction was just the catalyst for Alex to relax and he began to smile at M's hearty laughter.

"Oh shit kid... they were right about you... oh damn... an interesting boy with a smart-ass mouth and strange behavior that was put here under extenuating circumstances". M said.

"Now before we go any further...

I need you to tell me why there is a black halo attached to your soul...

And why of course you're living the life of a slave here in Hell with a power as unbelievably fantastic as yours...

who the fuck... no... What are you"?

Alex realized that his game of hide and seek was over, he would later feel absolutely blessed that he made friends with M. A mysterious man whose shenanigans were unmatched throughout all of Hell's domain.