Nothing Ever Lasts (Rewrite Demo)

Chapter 1: The Helix Foundation

EM-37 knew that his day would be hell when he was personally called to Commander Eisenhower's office. He came in to see the bitter man ordering him to sit, and practically threw the file at him. Telling him to read it.

It was a debrief report, he was to join the Eagle's Nest squad on their mission to Siberia known as Operation Plain Stake. They were to retrieve a special artifact from a rival company owned by a man named Anton Svechnikov. On the corner of the file was a picture of a large bald man looking at the camera. He looked massive, and with a dark sinister grin gleaming at him.

Anton Svechnikov. He looked like a pretty big deal.

However, the main target was the artifact, which contained some kind of supernatural property from an unknown origin. Why did they need it? He didn't know, and didn't care. It didn't say in the report.

Still, the debrief was - well, brief, and EM-37 had a feeling that Eisenhower was just as annoyed that he was joining the squad. He wasn't a 'proper' specialty anyways. EM-37 furrowed his brows, but didn't say a word. He knew better than to challenge his handler.

Eisenhower scoffed at that, "Don't look at me like that, director's orders."

The director was, of course, the woman who owned the Helix Foundation. Personally, he had never seen her, but he has heard a lot about her. Her cold, ruthless, and calculating attitude. She was the person who called the shots around here, even though she barely visits once a year and he hadn't even seen a picture of her. EM-37 isn't allowed to see her in person, apparently. He didn't know why, but he never questioned it. Ever since the discovery of his immunity to the enhancement serum, he knew that he was under the eyes of the director. All the scientists have said so. That's why he was put into Specialty and not someplace else.

Apparently looking at him the wrong way made Eisenhower ticked off, because he leaned over his desk and veered at him with violent eyes.

"You better straighten up your face, 37! You wanna go to P.D.R. again?"

"No sir," he replied shortly.

"Watch your tone!" Eisenhower snapped.

"No. Sir." He said a bit more monotonously, making sure not to add any bit of emotion to it this time.

He waited for Eisenhower's reaction, still eyeing him with those peering wide eyes. Then he pointed a thick finger at him.

"Disrespect me like that again, and I'll make sure you stay in the ditch for a week. Is that understood?"

"Affirmative, sir." EM-37 replied.

EM-37 knew better than to piss him off even more. He didn't need another session from the ditch. Eisenhower meant his threats in a literal sense.

The ditch was a place where soldiers and subjects would go should they misbehave. It was basically their sick and twisted version of solitary confinement, only this time the punishment can be whatever they give you until they feel like you learned a lesson. For EM-37's younger days, it was practically his second bedroom. He had the scars and records to prove it. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't have his fair share of visiting every now and then. He went there a few days ago for breaking a soldiers arm.

He was asking for it anyways. The bastard wouldn't stop goading that he was stronger than him because EM-37 was a defect and he wasn't. It was an accident. Or so he kept trying to tell them.

It was technically called the Primary Detention Room, but everyone else called it the ditch because it was a the very bottom of the facility. Like a drainage ditch that leads to a sewer line. Of course, at least the place was sanitary when it can be.