Twelve years ago, Donald Davenport adopted a three-year old girl, Genevieve Nelson, after her father, Donald's best friend, had passed away. For twelve years, Donald has managed to keep his adoptive daughter out of all the bionic dangers.
However...
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❤︎︎✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵✩✵❤︎︎
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝙾𝚅
The five teens and Donald were down in the lab. "Okay, guys, you have been trained for all kinds of missions. But you are about to enter a soul-bruising, confidence-crushing apocalyptic environment...high school." Donald explained to the bionics. Evie rolled her eyes. "It's not as bad as he's making it seem. I promise." She reassured them.
"Adam, Bree, your glitch test results are fairly stable." Donald said. "Yes! I'm going to school!" Bree cheered. "I'm fairly stable!" Adam cheered. "Me and you both." Evie muttered. "But, Chase, I am still concerned about your Commando App." Donald sighed. "Commando App? Put on some underpants. We're going to school." Leo said. Donald shook his head. "No, see, in the face of an imminent threat, Chase's Commando App kicks in and he becomes a fearless brute I like to call Spike." He exclaimed, grabbing Chase by the shoulders.
"It's kinda like a fight-or-flight thing, except I took out the flight part, 'cause, useless. And I replaced it with a testosterone level of like a Tasmanian devil-wolverine-shark-lion hybrid that's mad." Donald explained. "Don't worry, Mr. Davenport. I promise that Spike won't rear his ugly head." Chase replied.
Donald scoffed. "Oh, yeah? You mean like last Christmas when I made the mistake of giving Adam boxing gloves?" He asked. Adam groaned, rubbing his chest. "Ugh. I'm still coughing up tinsel." He said. Evie frowned, rubbing Adam's arm.
