Slade had awoken this specific morning with a splitting headache, just perfect, it would be an understatement to say that he would be in a bad mood today. Straightening up and leaving his bed, he contemplated his experience in the facility over the last few months he had been here. It had definitely been a unique job. Similar in some ways to the experience he had gone through during his own participation in the American enhancement program. But also greatly dissimilar in other ways.
While Slade and the rest of his fellow candidates were all trained professionals who had served in the military for a decade or more, with engrained discipline and strict self-control, these children had none. Opposed to learning, lazy and inattentive, this was the main issue with conscription, you ended up with the dregs who don't want or care for the mission statement. It wasn't really these kid's fault that they were in this situation though. That got them nowhere however, at the end of the day, they were here. Not like they had an option, the guards would eventually beat subservience into them. At least, that's what Slade was supposed to say. In reality, he didn't think very highly of the institution as a whole, but had little motivation to leave. The job provided a comfortable position and a large stream of income, what incentive was there for him to leave?
There was one exception, that [Y/N] kid, Number Seventeen. While the rest of the candidates halfheartedly hung onto each lesson, not caring or engaging with what they were being taught, he continually showed attentiveness and a willingness to improve himself. It was evident through the constant training he did out of hours,morning and night. An exemplary standard that the rest of the test group should've aspired towards. However, [Y/N] was an outcast amongst his peers, earning scorn from the kids and giving it right back at them. One of these days, someone was going to snap at Seventeen. Slade was certain he didn't want to be the doctor administering aid to that child afterwards.
While in training Slade had clearly noticed basic and untrained defensive and or offensive tactics from [Y/N]. Yet, more recently clear attempts at moves from different styles of martial disciplines, fast strikes, strong grapples, fast footwork and constant movement. He wasn't necessarily sure how this kid had become so adept in such a small amount of time, but it had been noted by Slade.
Continuing throughout the morning, Slade attempted not to engage in much discussion with any passing personal, to avoid tempting his headache from flaring up worse than it already had, showering and moving onto food relatively quickly.
After finishing his meal, Slade attempted to make his way towards the training room. It was early but that never hurt anyone, and maybe he could see Seventeen, judge his improvement. That was until Dr. Bertron suddenly appeared from around the corner.
"Mr. Wilson, fancy meeting you here. I had just sent a request to meet with you in my office, but this should be fine, are you available? The matter is rather urgent." Bertron asked, though it came across as more of a command. Bertron had already begun retracing his steps, back towards his office space.
While Slade didn't want to, he obliged the man this once and followed him. The quick walk was brisk and silent, with no small talk or interaction between the men until they had moved inside Bertron's office. The lead scientist seemed frantically paranoid, not talking until ensuring the door was firmly shut behind him.
Slade was immediately put off by this action, this wasn't going to be good. "Mr Wilson, we have an issue that threatens the existence of this whole experiment we have going on here." Bertron asserted bluntly, though there was a clear anxiousness to his tone.
Wilson nodded and gestured for him to continue on. "The government has been dropping, not so subtle hints that they will be shutting down all of these superhuman projects that they set up around the globe. From my sources, they are seeking immediate participation in the United Nations' international strike team. It's now believed that's the best chance at winning this war, by taking down the machines together." Bertron stated, anxiousness clear in his tone and demeanour, black bags under his eyes, he obviously had been thinking about this for hours.
Slade looked at the mess of a man, "What's the plan then boss, cut your losses while we still can?" Slade asked with his usual snarky manner. Bertron, unamused by his tone, ignored the last part of his comment, "I need video evidence of the combat ability of one of our experiments in action. Perhaps a mock battle between the two top candidates. I would strongly recommend Number Seventeen."
Slade contemplated this request for a moment. So the government needed evidence to prove that the experiment was actually bearing fruit rather than just a colossal failure. From Slade's limited experience here he knew that this experiment was indeed successful, more than successful. What had been created here seemed to herald forth a new age of warfare and genetic evolution. However, a few diagrams and photos were measly evidence for politicians, they needed to see action and results.
Wilson nodded at Bertron. "I'll get the more well adjusted samples to duke it out some, will that suit you?" Bertron nodded, "Just make sure that it is all caught on the cameras within the control room. That room is specifically built to analyse and show the extent of my creations." With that Slade said his goodbyes and left, once again making his way towards the training room.
However, as Slade walked closer nearer to the training room he heard a great, loud roaring that reverberated throughout the facility, immediately putting him into a combat stance. A dozen or so guards rushed past Slade, one of which he grabbed by the shoulder with great force "What the hells going on here?!" Slade demanded. The guard appeared annoyed that someone had yanked him so forcefully but changed tone quickly after seeing Colonel Wilson, "Sir! One of the candidates has changed without authority in the training room."
Shit, Slade thought, making a light jog towards the training room. Another roar could be heard, followed by a loud crash. Wilson began preparing for the worst, making sure that he had his weaponry ready for a hard battle. If it was anyone then there would be no problem, but if it was Seventeen, that was another story. As Slade crossed into the corridor leading towards the training room, he saw a large group of young people as well as some guards. It was obvious they were hiding outside but curious to watch the events unfold.
An ear splitting rupture exploded from within, the screeching of metal causing multiple candidates to cover their ears. Slade, pushing his way through forcefully, finally made his way towards the entrance of the room. Fortunately, they had lucked out in this scenario.
"HARRY THIS IS MADNESS, YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN NOW. I SUGGEST YOU TURN BACK NOW!" Could be heard from the centre of the room, a few metres away from a huge, green, hulking monster. Slade immediately knew the two opponents in question. The one candidate who had already turned unprovoked was one of the better test subjects in the training group. A generally quick learner but spiteful teen, his number evaded him at the moment, but his actual name was Harry. Facing him was the prodigy, Number Seventeen himself, who had not yet turned into his 'Doomsday' form. Perhaps a smart decision, but also an incredibly risky one.
Slade's entrance seemed to gather the attention of [Y/N]. He could tell from his expression that the kid wanted to let loose, and so Wilson obliged, giving him a knowing nod.
The only way to describe the next ten or so minutes would be a decimation. Once [Y/N] has changed into his alternate form the dynamic of the battle changed in a second. Harry could not have prepared himself for the one sided nature of this fight. Slade was slightly taken aback by Number Seventeen's performance. Not only by the spectacle of this great abomination taking on the giant green monster. [Y/N]'s combat ability seemed unmatched by any of the other candidates.
Quick movements, strong. calculated strikes. At one point Slade let out an audible chuckle when [Y/N] had struck Harry in a similar way that Slade had hit him during their introductory session. Even responding with the same comeback Wilson had said. Slade stood there, arms folded, taking in the dynamism of the fight, absorbing the energy of the occasion. It wasn't every day one got to see monsters fight.
[Y/N] had eventually gotten Harry into a position in which he was lying, stomach first, on the floor. Making his way over slowly, Slade shouted, "Now, now, boys. Harry, why don't you change back now, you've had your fun." It would seem that Harry was out of his mind, convulsing fueled by pure rage and animalistic instinct to resist.
Yet, with Number Seventeen on top of Harry, removing any chance of him regaining the upper hand, Slade commanded, "[Y/N] could you just end this now. This is getting annoying." He obliged, pommeling in the green monster's skull repeatedly until he had fallen still.
As Harry slipped out of consciousness he slowly transformed back into his human form. [Y/N] moved away, allowing the guards to move in and secure Harry's body. He would be getting a week, to a month, in solitary confinement for this little fiasco. As one of the guards rushed past Slade, he stopped him, "Go to security and find the video records from the last twenty minutes, when you have it, get it to Bertron immediately." Slade commanded, the guard responded with a quick nod and raced away.
What a bother, Slade thought to himself, raising a hand to his forehead, taking a moment to take in the situation. At least Bertron's problem was solved now, and what a show he got!
After a brief dialogue with [Y/N], Slade announced to the gathered crowd of candidates that today's lesson had been cancelled. They could all return to whatever else they were doing. Seventeen was worried he'd face repercussions, but Slade knew better. If anything, the administration would be sure to reward him for the stellar performance.
It was unlike the soldier, usually stoic and cold, but there was something about this rowdy kid that he couldn't help but admire. If it had been anyone else, Slade wouldn't have continued, but this once, what was the risk? "I have a proposition, kid. You obviously show the most promise here. I've seen you working outside of sessions to improve. Don't think I didn't notice those martial arts techniques you used in that fight. While still not great, I could be able to set you straight. What do you think, one on one training sessions after the main lesson?"
Slade watched the many thoughts going through Seventeen's head, a small conflict on whether or not to accept the proposal. He knew better however, and in due time the deal was made. They joined with a firm handshake. The deal had been made, no backing out now. Why had he agreed to this again? Slade wasn't sure, he didn't even like these little shits all that much.
As [Y/N] left the room, Slade stood in the centre, alone. However, something of far greater significance caught his eye. As he examined the site of the fight, large foot marks indented into the metal floor, torn up metal plates littering the room. While he had been personally reassured about the facility's security, it appeared clear that this facility was not built to support the strength of the monsters they had created.
Slade was committed to training [Y/N] now. The potential he had seen before was real and he saw the opportunity to be too good to turn away. He would be sure to turn Seventeen from an unpolished brute into a fully trained force of nature.
What could possibly go wrong?