Codename:nine

As the building burns, several bodies lie dead on the ground, and voices can be heard.

"Help us!"
"Nine, where are you?!"
"Save me!"
"We can't just leave them here!"
"Help!"
"Now's not the time six!"
"No!"
"Zero,what the fuck did you do?!"
"NOOOOOO!"

I jolt awake with an audible gasp escaping my lips, I sat up and realized I'm drenched in cold sweat. "Great another nightmare, I swear this is getting annoying." I got up, looked out through the boarded up window of the building and see the damp streets of the deep ends illuminated by the countless neon signs that scatter the area.

I went to the bathroom and look at myself in a slightly cracked mirror, I fix my black, messy hair and took a look at my face, and the scars. One diagonally passing from the top to the bottom of my right eye, another one right below my lower lip, but one stands out the most. On my left cheek is a mark, a reminder of who i was before, 'IX' visible and obvious for everyone who looks at my face, but then again, those who have seen my face are mostly greeted by a bullet to the head. My eyes trace down to my body, or what was left of it. Both of my arms are replaced by black robotic limbs that end in sharp claw like fingers, various lines crawl up my arms like veins glowing an orange hue. My torso, completely covered by the same black cyerbenetics, with a glowing orange ring in the middle of my chest. It looks like armour, if not for the fact that it's basically my body. I look at the lower half of my body, one robotic leg, one completely human. Thanks to that damned mission, I was turned into this.

I stepped out of the bathroom, got dressed in a black shirt, dark blue jeans, and black combat boots, I wrapped myself in a brown cloak to hide my body, I took out my custom made mask that covered the lower half of my face, it was made in iron with a design similar to a skull but with sharp teeth. I put it on and feel it clamp and extend, enough to cover my entire neck. I moved near the window to see my weapons, a katana with a black sheath that's covered in writing in some unrecognizable language, and a black barrett sniper rifle with blue glowing lines tracing its body I took them and placed them in my back and hip respectively. These were the weapons given to me when I was a former agent of the appropriately named "agency" organization.

Now this agency was where I was born, raised, experimented, and trained to become a super soldier to do their dirty work. There were eleven of us, "the originals" as they would say, we were made to become superiors to other smaller agents of the agency. We had no names only numbers, for we were agents, nothing more, nothing less, we had no identity aside from different personalities. And because of the experiments, we were given special powers that no one but us can possess. Powers such as, pyromancy, cryokenisis, super speed, super strength. But some have the abilities that defy the laws of the universe itself, such as manipulating gravity, telekenisis, hell even the ability to control time. Some have bizarre abilities like being able to become a shadow to teleport or be invisible, and even the power to control other people just by looking at their eyes. And the ability that I have is what I like to call, runes. I can manifest runes to help me do almost anything, in or out of combat. The only downside is that I can get exhausted very quickly when used too much or for too long.

The eleven of us were basically family, until things went to shit. Just because of that damned mission, mission thirteen. We were supposed to infiltrate an enemy base, but what we were not expecting was that we were being set up. Zero, that fucking asshole,
had rigged the place to blow. We always suspected something was off with him but our commanders brushed it off as just one of his personality traits, but I call bullshit. He was  a psychopath, always thinks he's better than everyone else. After that, he killed the entire agency commanders and convinced the other agents to follow him. Now he's the one that runs the place. They thought we were dead, they weren't wrong. Half of our group died, others fled and hid somewhere, others followed zero, damn bastards.

And now here I am, in the deep ends, as a mercenary hired to do different jobs for a high price, they range from small errands to assassinations and kidnappings. Though my targets are mostly wanted criminals, infamous drug dealers, mob bosses, and corrupt politicians. I do this in hopes of getting to my real target, Zero. To make him pay for what he did to us.

Through the years I've been given many names by my unfortunate victims, names such as "the wolf" "cyborg demon" "mercenary nine" but I prefer to just be called NINE.
But it doesn't matter.

Because they all die in the end.

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That's chapter one!
Give me you're thoughts on this one in the comments below, and feel free to give criticism as well. I'm still new to this writing thing so I apologize for some errors.
But anyways thanks for stopping by.
Peace out.