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Chapter II: The Great War

Author's Note: This story is told through a flashback voice over. Italics represent dialogue taking place in present day.

"General Ironwood?" Winter asks. "If I may sir, who is that man?"

The man in question is currently being held in a small interrogation room on General Ironwood's personal airship. He's seated in one of the metal chairs, elbow resting on his knee, his one arm bridging the gap between his legs.

"His name is (F/N) (L/N)." Ironwood tells Winter.

"And who is (F/N) (L/N)?" Winter asks.

Ironwood chuckles. "That's a difficult question to answer." Winter continues to wait for her superior's response. "Simply put, he's a soldier. A war hero from the Great War."

"I'm sorry sir, I must have misheard you." Winter says. "For a moment I thought you said he fought in the Great War."

"You heard me correctly Schnee." Ironwood says. "Though biologically he's only 18, he was born over 100 years ago. He's been kept in a cryogenic state for the past 80 odd years."

"I wasn't aware we did that sir." Winter says.

"We don't." Ironwood responds. "Though the technology has been readily available for at least a century, the Kingdom of Atlas has never induced a cryogenic state upon someone. (F/N), was the exception."

"What made him so special sir?"

"I suggest you take a seat." Ironwood says, leaning against the window.

Flashback

80 Years Ago:

"As you know, the Great War was the largest war in Remnant's history." Ironwood says. "It was fought between the four Kingdoms of Remnant, Vale, Vacuo, Mistral, and Atlas' predecessor, Mantle."

Bullets fly through the air as the sound of gunshots and explosions drown out the screams of soldiers on the battlefield. A soldier dressed in a Mantle uniform runs with his head down and slides into cover behind a rock. Another Mantle soldier is crouched against the boulder, holding his gun to his chest, paralyzed with fear.

"Hey!" The newcomer says, hitting his compatriots' shoulder. "Snap out of it soldier!" He shouts as the ground blows up several hundred feet away as a mortar shell hits. "You either move or you get killed!"

Nodding vigorously, the soldier manages to choke out a strangled "Yes sir!"

Staying crouched, the two move from behind the rock and make their way across the battlefield, firing at the enemy. Another mortar shell hits, this time closer, sending dirt and both men flying into the air.

"At the time, Mantle was searching for ways to turn the tide of the war in their favor. Funneling trillions into research, our scientists were able to produce advanced weaponry utilizing dust capabilities, something that had never been seen before."

"Keep pushing men!" A Mantle captain yells. "They're falling back!"

Hundreds of Mantle soldiers advance along the battlefield after their retreating enemies, firing hundreds of rounds a minutes from their guns. Those unfortunate enough to be hit by the hail of gunfire scream as they're immolated, or else rendered silent from being stunned by electricity or being frozen solid. Occasionally one of the frozen soldiers will fall with a sickening shatter, breaking into pieces.

"Move aside, the heavy artillery's comin' through!"

The Mantle soldiers all scatter to one side or the other as a large canon like mechanism rolls out onto the battlefield. The soldiers manning the weapon turn a large crank, causing the weapon to heat up. A few seconds later, a large ball of fire launches from the canon, shattering the ground and setting it ablaze.

"Still, every time Mantle rolled out a new weapon, it didn't take long for the enemy to recreate it."

Soldiers on both sides fall as their bodies light aflame. A strangled cry comes from a young man from Mantle as his leg freezes solid. A bullet zooms past his head, causing him to grab his helmet and duck down. Another smashes through the ice encasing his leg, shattering it to pieces. The young soldier screams as he clutches what remains of his leg. Turning on his stomach, he starts to crawl away. He only makes it a few feet when another bullet flies through his head.

"So, Mantle pressed its scientists even further. They had to create a weapon no one else could ever recreate. The Kingdom's officials okayed a top secret program designed to create the perfect super soldier."

"Would applicant 4274 please step forward." A woman in a white lab coat calls.

A young man who appears to be in his early twenties' steps forward from the group. His hair is a sandy blonde and his eyes a greyish blue.

"Follow me." The scientist says.

"Those the Kingdom deemed in peak physical condition were selected for the process." Ironwood says.

"So young adult males." Winter clarifies.

"Yes. Poor bastards didn't even know what they were being signed up for. Not that they had a choice, everyone was being drafted."

"Test subject 4274 appeared to have managed to adapt to the rapid cellular regeneration process but proved disappointing when field tested." The same female scientist speaks into a handheld tape recorder. "After sustaining injury, the cellular regeneration failed to cease, causing growth of excess limbs and other deformations."

To her side is a sandy haired male lying on a table. He has an extra arm growing out of his stomach and his head has tumors along the top.

"Readjust mitochondrial matrix concentration and retest on subjects 4275 through 4325."

"Most of the subjects died before making it to the final stage of experimentation. Those that survived were tested physically and mentally. The Kingdom wanted to ensure that only the best would make it through, that way when the process was repeated, it would only produce the best."

A group of around fifty young men stand in an attention block, (F/N) in the front line. Breaking off into four groups, the men create a square ring, one edge open. One by one the men are called into the center of the ring by a Mantle General. Standing ten feet apart, the General fires at the men's heads. A handful manage to avoid the bullet, but most fall with a hole in their head.

"So who was this (F/N) (L/N)?" Winter asks.

"(F/N) was applicant, or rather subject, 0001." Ironwood explains.

"Soldier, your Kingdom thanks you for your service." A recruitment officer tells (F/N). "We are also pleased to inform you that you have been the first of a very select few to be chosen for Mantle's next significant military breakthrough."

"What do you mean?" (F/N) asks.

"You've been chosen to be a member of an elite group of soldiers who will turn the tide of the battle."

"Like special ops?" (F/N) asks, somewhat surprised, somewhat excited.

"Yes. Like special ops."

"So why is it that (F/N) was the only soldier that was preserved?" Winter asks. "Surely they would have wanted to keep the whole bunch."

"They would have. Unfortunately (F/N) was the only surviving member of the super soldier experiment."

"The others died in battle?"

"Not quite."

"Dr. Stine!" The female doctor runs throughout the building, screaming. "Dr. Stine!"

Dr. Stine walks out of his office only to have his associate run into him. "Woah, easy there Dr. Pines." Stine says, holding her by the shoulders.

"Dr. Stine, Franklin, the test subjects, they're..."

"What is it Pines?" Stine asks. "Answer me!" He shakes her.

"The subjects are crazy!"

"That's excellent news!" Stine smiles.

"No, sir, you misunderstand. Their mental health is rapidly deteriorating, they've already slaughtered half the scientists downstairs and they're making their way up right now!"

"What?!" Stine asks.

Almost as if to answer his question, the doors crash open and two dozen soldiers pour into the room. They're all in peak physical condition, but their eyes are bloodshot and their hair falling out. They run at the two doctors who scream.

"So, they went insane?"

"From what we can gather from the old records, yes. It's still unknown what caused it, but the few who survived the genetic altering and physical conditioning began undergoing mental deterioration after a few weeks."

"And (F/N)?"

"No one knows why, but (F/N) was the only member of the experiment group to not lose his mind."

The two doctors close their eyes, certain they are about to die. They wait for death but open their eyes when they aren't greeted by it. Instead they are greeted by the sight of (F/N) (L/N), wielding two rapiers and covered in blood. As two more crazed soldiers run at the doctors, (F/N) runs between the two, slicing their stomachs open, their intestines falling out.

"Unfortunately, the scientists didn't take the hint the universe was throwing at them and continued trying to recreate their first subject. They sent (F/N) out into the field, but not before removing his right arm for genetic material."

Running across the battlefield, one arm reflecting the light of the sun on its metal surface, (F/N) outpaces his fellow soldiers and runs ahead of them. Ducking under a torrent of bullets, he tackles the enemy soldiers before they can readjust their aim. Punching one with his metal arm, he takes their head off. Using the dead soldier's body as a shield, he holds it in front of him and runs at the other soldiers, releasing a war cry as he does so. Throwing the headless body into the men, he uses the distraction to jump into the air and land of the shoulders of one of the soldiers. Kicking down, he breaks their collarbones. As they collapse in pain he pierces their skull with his sharp metal fingers, before rolling forward. Jumping up, he uppercuts another soldier. Grabbing them by the neck he spins around and throws them into the rest of the group. By the time the rest of the Mantle soldiers arrive, (F/N) is standing in the middle of a pile of corpses, face and uniform splattered in crimson. Still holding one of the bodies by the shirt, he drops them into the rest of the pile. Barely even breathing hard, blood dripping from his hair, (F/N)'s empty eyes stare off into the distance.

Present Day:

"So, did they ever succeed in recreating the super soldier?"

"No." Ironwood answers. "(F/N) was the first and last super soldier Mantle ever managed to create. The scientists exhausted all the source material they had available trying to recreate him, and when his arm was gone, there was no one left alive willing to attempt it."    

Author's Note: Dr. Franklin Stine was influenced by the infamous doctor, Doctor Victor Frankenstein, not to be confused with his creation, Frankenstein's Monster.

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