The Salvation [1]

01 - Initiative

      "Do not be the one that falls in the end." One of the many quotes I have grasped onto these past few years. As the days move on, I have learned how to silence myself as I walk through the longing halls of the headquarters. I'm not supposed to, but I do it anyway. And I know they know I do.

      I look at myself in the plain and skinny mirror in front of me. I had turned paler than I looked this morning. My vibrant purple hair was the only vibrant thing about me. It was held up in a messy knot. My green eyes were puffy, but not from crying. I couldn't cry anymore. I lifted my hands up in front of my face. They didn't look like mine, not after what they had done. I closed my eyes and thought about the anger I held. For them, for this world, for me. I open my eyes and see a purple and black fog swirl around my fingers. I quickly tucked my fingers between one another. The fog disappeared.

      "Number 11325, your bed is ready, please come with me." A guard grabs me by the arm and pull me down the dimly lit hallways. The bed wasn't really a bed, at least not for tonight. It feels like I am being suffocated whenever I lay on my bed. Tubes connect from all over my body to the many machines that surround me. The room is cold, not freezing though. Everything is a blueish gray color. It's unappealing, it really is. But there is something about it that I have learned to grow a liking to. I am not allowed to keep any of my personal belongings from my old life. Not that I wanted to. I do have a dresser, though. It is a small one but I like it. I'm only allowed to keep my night clothes, and undergarments inside. I keep my training uniform hung on the coat hanger so that it gets cleaned everyday. It's a requirement. I do not have a roommate. I am kind of grateful for that. One less person that doesn't see me in such a vulnerable state every time I enter this room.

      The machines track my vitals, and track the energy that my powers give off. They study me like I'm some kind of science experiment. I am in a way. I am human, but I'm not. They did this to me. They say it was for the better. And now I'm cursed. I used to be a normal teenager, I also went to school. Now I'm some sort of metahuman with a craving for anger. How does that work? There are three blank walls and one giant window where agents and scientists can look over me and analyze everything I do.

      "Number 11325, how are you feeling right now? Relaxed? On edge? Angry?" A scientist dressed in a white coat comes into my room. Her hair is a pearly blonde and it is held up behind her head. She isn't young but she isn't old. They always asked me the same question every night.

      "I am feeling just fine. Better than yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that." I replied and she nodded while writing in her notebook.

      "Can you go to the scale for me? I need to check your weight." I comply and walk over to the white scale in the corner of the room, my bare feet walking along the cold stone floor. I stand onto the scale and wait for the moving numbers to stop. "118.3 pounds. Not bad, not bad at all. Last week, you were just at 120. You may lay down. We will get you connected to your night server and then you are free to sleep." I do as she says.

      It seemed to take forever until they were able to leave me alone. But once I was, I felt like I was able to let out a breath I have been holding in since this morning. Not literally. They say we aren't allowed to progress onto the next stage until we all are able to dream. And as I lay there, I drifted off into my own head. My own trance.

- Next morning -

      "Good Morning Number 11325. Have you dreamt yet?" Again with all the questions. As I stir awake from trance, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the bright lights all over the room.

      "No, not yet." I reply.

      "Okay. Get dressed into your training outfits. No breakfast this morning. We need you in the training facility as quick as possible." She was in a rush, I noticed. Something was off. Normally I would get to eat breakfast and take a shower. But not today, I wonder why.

      "Have the others awoken yet?" I ask.

      "Yes, they have and we have given them the same instructions as you." She leaves and I take my training uniform into the bathroom. It was a black jumpsuit that fitted my body. It had short sleeves and the Hydra symbol on the chest. I tied my purple hair back and put on my vital watch. A way for them to track my vitals once more. I wore my training combat boots as well. I walked out of the room and made my way to the training facility.

      As soon as I got there, I saw a familiar face. "Number 11582, what is with the rush this morning?" I ask the tall boy in front of me. He was just like me. Normal, but inhuman. He had dark skin and blue eyes. He was older than I was. I am nineteen, as for him, he was twenty-four. He was dressed like me, except his uniform wasn't made to fit his body, it was way more loose and cut off right at his muscles. It was also two parts, a shirt and pants.

      "You noticed too? I'm not exactly sure what is happening or why they woke us up this early. Have you had a dream yet?" He asked me. I shook my head, my hands on my hips. "I did last night. It was peaceful. I had offspring, a baby boy. It was weird."

      "A dream already? I have tried every night. How did you do it?" I asked him but he shrugged.

      "I don't know it just happened. But as far as I know Number 11965 and I were the only ones with dreams." As I was about to respond a low voice cut me off.

      "Good morning, fellow trainees." A blonde pale man walked over to us, dressed in the same uniform as Number 11582. He was tall as well but only one year older than me.

      "Number 11284, what is with the commotion this morning?" Number 11582 asks. He looks at us with wide eyes.

      "You didn't hear? S.H.I.E.L.D. ambushed one of the hydra bases in Amsterdam. It cost many people their lives and one giant explosion." He fiddled with his vital bracelet as he flexed his muscles.

       "Those sons of bitches." I cursed. "Wait, why is it a big deal, the Amsterdam base was a small base."

      "The Amsterdam base has information about Project S." He spoke. We all grew wide-eyed.