In this world only the strongest survive. I became stronger so that when the time comes and the world begins to tremble, I will be there to hold it steady. After all, what is mankind, compared to the titan that holds the world in it's palm.
As the suns light began to fall over Hereford base the 8' 3" giant now codenamed 'Atlas' wakes up. He releases a deep sigh as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up, his long black hair covering most of his face. He stands up from the bed still wearing the clothes he had in the prison days prior and walks to the bathroom.
After rummaging throught the cabinet beneath the sink and the medicine cabinet he managed to find a pair of head clippers and scissors. After trimming the beard and mustache and giving himself a high and tight haircut, one could finally see some of his facial feetures.
Cold and dead green eyes, visible wrinkles, and a scar running up and down over his right eye. It doesn't seem time has been to kind to the man.
The man runs his hand through his hair and over his beard, turning his head side to side to check his work. Leaving the bathroom and going to the closet across the room to try and find some decent clothing.
Upon opening the closet he was suprised to find clothing in his size although he did not express it. Seven pairs of camo patterned loose-fitting pants, tank tops, and three pairs of gym shorts and shirts. On the shelf above where the clothes were hanged were several pairs of undergarments and socks. Below everything were three pairs of shoes, everything was neatly stacked and put together.
Grabbing one of the pairs of camo pants, tank tops, and undergarments, the man turned back around for the shower. After thirty minutes of cleaning himself off, the man exited the shower, dried himself and got dressed. Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, he sees the numerous scars running along his arms and chest.
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(This but black hair, beard, mustach and more definition in the muscles. Credit to shenrezade on deviantart)
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Putting his tank top on he makes his way to the door before stopping. Turning back around he grabs a long sleeve shirt from the closet and puts it on. Opening the door, the first thing he sees is a knife stabbed into the wall next to the doorframe with a note on it. Turning his head side to side Atlas sees that no one was in the halls but there was a camera not to far from his room.
Turning back to the knife he grabs it and pulls it out of the wall with no difficulty and removes the note from the blade. Looking at the note he could see it was a mix of english and what looked like angry portuguese writing. He crumpled the note and tossed it back into his room and kept hold of the knife, doing simple tricks with it.
After reaching an intersection in the corridors, Atlas looked at the signs plastered on the walls. The signs said the mess hall was down the hallway to his left and that's the direction he went.
The hallway lacked any doors and only had a few windows scattered about. Looking through those windows, Atlas could see a squad of recruits doing routine morning workouts. They were either running, doing pushups, practicing hand to hand, or running with gear on.
