A/N: "B" stands for an entirely bonus or backstory chapter.

Many years ago, some time during the 1950's...

Mechanic's pov

The lab was calm as I worked with Beethoven playing on the record player in the background. Tension filled my limbs and I lifted my arms and stretched towards the cold steel ceiling. Normally the steel walls, floors and desks would give someone a heart attack but I was ecstatic for the chance of working on weapons that would help our men push back the Commies in Korea even if was like a grave in here.

Footfalls clicked closer and closer behind me. Heels, my wife's to be exact. She peered over my shoulder in awe.

"It's almost done," she whispered expectantly, "it's almost complete!"

I smiled and looked up at her. The strands of her platinum hair somehow glinting in the white light. I spoke with pride in my voice,

"The product of our work is nearly complete. Ready for the presentation?"

She sat in a rolling-chair next to me and scooted in to take my hand.

"Of course, I'm the brains and you're the mechanic. I have seen you defy physics and laws of nature that couldn't be explained scientifically." Then she added on a lighter note, "For example, I've seen you literally inhale pizza and pop easier than air."

I rolled my eyes with my smile growing wider.

"Ha-ha, honey."

She rubbed my hand tenderly and we each enjoyed the warmth from the other's eyes. She cleared her throat uttering,

"So, John, what are we going to be doing in about nine months from now?"

Do what? I scrunched my brow in thought. She laughed as I kept trying to figure out what hidden meaning women always had in their questions. But I don't know if it was a secret meaning or insinuating something.

"You're so dense sometimes, anyway I got a surprise to show you tomorrow."

I arched a brow at her before getting up from my work for a smoke break. I mean it was the 50's, I went to the smoke filled break room and had some coffee before finally finishing my project. Project Prime.

***
Several hours later...

After the most stressful lunch I had in my life, the officials from the US government came. They were excited, but tried to hide it in an attempt of professionalism. They were about to witness the end of the Cold War from the hype of what others had said about other tests. I could tell that my wife was uneasy giving the presentation from next to the machine.

"Project Prime is the future of warfare." Nodding she said, "John."

Sitting behind a terminal I gave Prime life and he hovered up responsively.

"Scanning." The group of officials gasped at the talking machine.

"A mechanical super soldier capable of surviving the likes of the atom bomb." She chuckled nervously, "But although we have the Davy Crockett nuclear weapon-" A soldier in the corner took a curtain from of a set of the weapons. "We are not going to demonstrate the machines capacity of damage sponging due to new findings from the aftermath of nuclear weapons from WW2 nearly a decade ago. Now..." she yelled, "present arms!"

Project Prime summoned the plasma cannons in his wrists and shoulders as well as the energy blades from his ankles and wrists upon command. Within view of the officials, two frozen hogs were wheeled in with Commie hammer-and-sickle berets mockingly placed atop their heads. The crowd laughed and Prime looked down on the crowd, about eight feet tall.

"Prototype Prime," my wife said, "shoot the pigs."

He didn't react. In panic I started checking the remote. When I looked back up at him he said, "Scanning." Looking at me in the corner of his eye for some reason.

He scanned a bit more before my wife muttered apologetically,

"This is his first time fully online. Prototype Prime! Kill the pigs!"

He then blasted the the pigs in one shot still looking ominously down on my wife. As the officials rose from their seats to clap, the machine went limp and my wife improvised ending the presentation early. No! What was wrong? I hurried down and began looking at the machine after my wife escorted the others out.

It was an hour or so before she returned to see me almost kick the machine in frustration. What the hell was wrong with this thing? My wife ran to me and took my hand, gently leading me away.

"Hey, let's rest up this evening and look at everything on the terminals okay?"

I grumbled out a sigh as we returned to our private quarters.

***
That night...

I was half awoken by the sound of thunder and Beethoven. That's confusing, it took me a full minute to realize why, how can one hear thunder in a bunker? Also, my only record of Beethoven was in the lab, off-limits to any and all personnel after lights out so where is it playing from? I sat up and rubbed my eyes, careful not to wake my wife as I hobbled over to the study and flipped some switches to turn on my vacuum tubed terminal.

Once on however the screen had random data flowing down the screen in all the languages of man and in response I murmured,

"What the hell?"

Then thunder boomed again and I began to worry. Was it Communist attack? Surely not. They may have nuclear weapons but surely they don't have the internet yet do they? I exited my study and went to the door leading to the hall. Usually it was locked but today it shifted before sliding upwards. My breathe caught when a lightbulb burst, letting small tongues of flame illuminate the hallway. Another lightbulb was flickering farther down the hall allowing me to see cement debris and slash marks on some of the floor and walls. I tentatively clicked the button so the door shut.

"Honey!" I whispered urgently, "Get up!"

I walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed my prototype laser pistol just in case. Why is it in the kitchenette you wonder? This is the 50's, no one trusts the government, especially since McCarthy found Commie meanies in our government.

"John?!"

"I'm here!"

My wife stepped out clutching her hands to herself and yawned.

"What?" She groaned before I checked if the pistol was charged, making a distinct hum. Neither of us understood what was going on but we understood the gravity of the situation. My voice conveyed this gravity as I proceeded to grab my things,

"Put your studies in the safe. Get dressed." I half-ordered.

I started stacking my notebooks atop of hers as she opened an intricate safe only we could open due to us being the designers. The music continued to play from some unknown location giving the air a cold and eerie feel to it in this cement and steel coffin. No, cave... I thought with determination, we're not dying here. But was I sure?

"Ready?"

My wife took my hand and murmured, "Ready."

The door slid open to the sound of weapons being leveled onto us. My eyes widened and the lead officer let out a relieved sigh. He ordered the soldiers to lower their weapons in a hushed tone and said,

"Thank God you're alive. Your machine, it's-"

At that moment a scream pierced the air and the echoes of gunshots drifted onto our ears on the cool stifling air.

A/N: Fun fact and possibly important to this story: the Davy Crockett nuclear weapon is actually real! (Uncropped.)