-STATUS =: COMPLETE // ALIVE
-BORN =: [7/6/2047] [AGE 14]
-SEX =: [MALE]
-EYES =: [BLUE]
-RACE =: [CAUCASIAN]
-DISABILITY=: [Limb Reduction Defect]
-Both arms will never fully develop.
-Replaced with Propulsory Arms at age [REMOVED]
-LEAD OPERATOR=: [OP#80] (Willam Tyson)
-Additional Team: None
-LAB LOCATION=: [Western Fissure]
The laboratory stood out among the trees, greatly entangled in vines, it’s steel walls sleeping within a thick blanket of moss. The sunlight fell onto it for many years, furthering the growth of life among metal, untouched by any outsider. There was but one man who lived inside. Only one man and that boy which he worked on.
The scientist quietly slipped out of the laboratory and into the forest. He was careful not to let the heavy door slam and possibly awaken Six. As he slowly allowed it to shut, he peeked back at the boy asleep in his pod-bed. With a great gulp, and a sigh from his heart, he lifted his luggage over his shoulder. Scurrying off into the deep woods, he was gone before the morning sun could invade the windows of the lab or wipe the shade from the forest.
The lab was still for many more hours. The slight beeps and clicks of various machines occasionally broke through the silence. Within the glass pod, Six began to rustle out of his deep sleep. The bright lights and white walls of the lab were blinding as his eyes slowly crept open. Pressing the button to his left, the glass in front of him opened, and he leaned forward in his bed. As he yawned, he rubbed his shaved head with metallic fingers. The steel of his hand was cold against his nearly bare scalp. He peered across the room, and wondered why the professor had not woken him up earlier. After all, Tyson would be next to the pod with a to-do list every day, but he was nowhere to be found.
Six rose from his bed in the corner of the lab and examined himself in the mirror next to him. He was decently tall, with a generally slim frame. His torso was not very defined, but it had to grow in order to support the two metallic arms, so he was quite strong for his size. The Propulsory Arms began at his shoulders and armpits, with black steel joints connecting them to his torso. At each of his shoulders, were small rotating engines. The Arms stretched down to his waist and were often adjusted as his young body grew. He had come to know them well, and they were so completely normal to him.
On the desk across the room, a single monitor displayed a small body of text, all other screens were dark. Papers were scattered about the table and the floor, as if they were quickly gathered and disregarded just as fast. Six curiously approached the screen and squinted at the words. Reading was always quite a struggle for him at first, but he was quickly able to make out the words “Dearest Six,” at the very top of the screen. At this, Six looked around the room quickly, the Professor was surely not here, and not anywhere close. Six continued reading:
Dearest Six,
It is with great regrets that I type this letter. It is with great regrets that I live this life. I cannot persevere this hardship any longer, although I knew this day would come. You are such a curious and intelligent boy, and yet you never once questioned the things I have done to you. To repay you for that, I will tell you your story from the beginning.
As a young military scientist, I was eager to begin work on a project that had been discussed for multiple years. The military, in an attempt to gain advancements in war technology, hoped to create new weapons through scientific experimentation. These weapons, were always intended to be, fully alive. As development of the project carried on, it was decided that the subjects of these experiments would be disabled children. Our plan was to use science to fight back against these disabilities, and turn them into advantages.
We were all assigned a newborn or infant, and then sent to laboratories in remote locations of this continent. Most children were given to small teams, so that multiple people could work on them at once. However, you and I have always been on our own. One day, they handed you over to me. So small and frail, you were born with a limb reduction defect, and neither of your arms would ever fully develop. Soon after, I invented the Propulsory Arms, which would enable you to attack with incredible force and speed when you came of age.
This came to be known as The Merge Project. Merge is a word I’m certain you’ll recognize, as it has been placed on the left side of your torso. Technically, your full name is Merge_06. There are many like you, or they may be different, I have heard little of my colleagues work. To merge, is to combine something, so that it may form into a single entity. You, Six, are that beautiful entity, you are the future of living beings. You have successfully merged technology and nature.
I was a man of my duty back then. I did what I was asked. I have been under surveillance since the beginning, and I would surely be killed and replaced if I one day deviated from my orders. A large part of those orders, would be to keep you within the government’s grasp. I was consistently asked to wipe your memory and attempt to suppress all of your emotions through drugs and treatment. I have taken from you the ability to feel, and for that I am deeply sorry.
My Six, I do not expect you to understand, but I love you as though you are my own son. You are the closest thing I will ever have to a family of my own. I have given my life so that you may exist, and now I will not sit and watch as your life is used by men who do not care for you. While you were sleeping, I have destroyed the tracking device in your brain. All cameras and surveillance devices have been shut down as of this morning. I will be gone, and they will certainly be coming for you once they notice this.
Leave this place, go anywhere but here. War is not your purpose. I hope you can try to feel something, the world is wide and will come to you.
I do not expect you to understand, but please try for me. I refuse to give you away, I refuse to watch you become a tool of war. You are a weapon, but not one in their arsenal. You may not remember, or may not feel it, but I knew the loving child you once were. Be that child again and run.
Love,
Tyson
THOMAS MAZZAFERRO 