Prototype : A New Start

"Dear Life...."

AUTHOR'S NOTE : REMINDER THAT THE TIMELINE IS SET IN THE YEAR OF 2009.

Several Months later...
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"Aren't you supposed to be in high school already?"

"...Mercer, its two in the morning."

"...Huh."

The lazy blonde was quietly watching a movie in their home theatre when the gloomy virus appeared out of nowhere from the corridors that somehow fits to be called a maze. The hooded figure was accompanied with a half-empty bottle of red wine in his hand. Cabernet Sauvignon. It reads.

Yes, evolved can't get drunk, but sure as hell he's not going to stop trying to.

The weapon of mass destruction turned its attention toward the projected screen, frowning deeply as he recognizes the movie that Damian is watching.

"The Thing?" Alex turned to stare at his only housemate, "Really?"

"Hey, its cool." The blonde replied with a silly grin, "Not like that i'm interested in silly romance movies, the arcades are closed, and i just finished the entire harry potter series...." He paused, "...Books, by the way."

"Don't you have anything better to do than lazying around?"

"Ah, such is life... don't we?"

"We?"

"Well, There is no 'I' on team, Mercer." His grin widens.

Nope, he's not doing this. Definitely not falling for that. He retreated back to the cellar, pushing gently the glass door before grabbing another bottle of wine. It'll be quite a while until he needs to restock the empty shelves.

He can't get drunk, yeah. But being able to sit back, relax, and enjoy a sip of wine while the world burn around him without his intervention... At least he made out of this mess in riches.

Well, technically he didn't. Mercer died, and he's the virus. Oh well, still counts! Why? Because he said so! If you insist on arguing againts the living bioweapon who eats people for a living, feel free to drop by.

Mercer watched in hidden astonishment as the artic research crew was killed one by one by its fictional-predecessor. The flamethrowers brought forth a train of painful memories, the feelings of being burnt to the brink of his actual death by those damned thermobaric tanks...

By the time he turned Heller into one of his own, no thermobaric tanks ever made it out into the field. He always sabotaged deliveries or swarmed the facilities preparing those armor units. Its gotten so bad that Blackwatch was so pissed that they actually stopped trying.

Ah, well. While the troublesome blonde has been fooling around, he actually had been trying out new stuffs which he had never done before; such as investing, playing instruments.... he is now bathing himself in luxury just to try to feel more of the comfort of wealth that many would kill for in this city.

It was... mundane. A simple estate in the middle of nowhere would have suit him just fine. All these things- the garden, the lounges, bar, movie theatre, whatsoever? They are just bonuses to his miserable, post-nuked and post-consumed existence.

Damian suggested him to start a collection of gems if he was so bored, and much to his ire, he listened to what Apollo said. He started cheap, buying cut agates, garnets, opal... then amethyst... rubies... sapphires... diamonds...

He blames Apollo entirely for the collection that is now displayed in cases by the grand living room, each cases has been carefully-selected to ensure that it fits with the theme of the house. At this rate, he's going to spend all of their remaining tens of millions on gems!