"Remember to be gentle with her now, the shell's still in the healing process."

Ebony showed a warm smile as he carefully handed the little girl her pet turtle. The father patted his daughter on the shoulder as they both exited the room.

Upon leaving, Ebony walked back into the patient room, rubbing his white coat. There were still more animals that needed treatments. He's already slightly fatigued from working the whole day, only now realizing there were still three more hours until his shift ends.

Next was a small Yorkshire Terrier with decaying and rotten teeth. He looked at himself at the closest mirror, firing his imaginary finger guns at himself. Striking a pose and letting out a smirk, he was ready.

"Lights..."

Through magnifiers and lights, it's clear this pup needed some serious dental work. A checkup and a thorough brushing was in order. It's an efficient start and an improvement, allowing the animal to proudly showcase its teeth without inducing nausea in others.

"Camera..."

A parrot was brought forward, and this one had some words for the vet. The owner awkwardly looked away as his bird continued to swear. Scans were taken and pictures were shot, screening the fractured wing.

"Action."

Now comes another dog, one with an injured paw. He was surprisingly energetic and happy to see the kind vet. Emergency care was administered and paws were bandaged. An extra treat is thrown towards the little pup's way for being such a good boy.

Tick tock goes the clock, time's almost up. His shift is nearly over. The vet had already stepped outside, leaving through the rear exit. In his hand was a bottle of iced tea. Anyone in his position would smoke, but not him.

He faced a back alley, with graffiti scattered over the nearby walls. Spilled garbage was unkempt, and the smell was sickening up close.

This was Camden, New Jersey after-all. Not exactly the nicest place on Earth. Less than a mile away from Philadelphia, with nothing but a narrow river dividing the cities from one another. A casual walk from here was all it took for him to essentially cross into another state altogether.

Many would call this area ghetto. Hood and gang violence was fairly common. Unsurprisingly, it involved a major part of the black community. Cause let's be honest, not trying to be racist but it's the truth lol.

Ebony had his fair share of gang wars. Having spent the past twenty-five years in the hood, he knew just how dangerous that lifestyle was. That's why he was fortunate enough to leave that life behind in pursuit of medicine for animals. There were other ways of making money that didn't involve trafficking drugs, robbing or performing drive-bys.

His line of work brought in the big bucks, and all of it would be saved. Although his love for pets could never be swayed, he had other plans.

Just as he was about to toss his empty water bottle towards a bin, he heard the drift of a nearby car. It caught his attention, forcing him to stand still and look towards the end of the alleyway. And there it was. A speeding black van drove directly for him.

The tires squealed as the vehicle suddenly turned a 180º and stopped on a dime right in front of him. Immediately, the backdoors flew open as a few men rushed outside. They were dressed in black and red gear.

Ebony never even had a chance to speak when he was forcefully grabbed by his limbs and dragged towards the van. Just as he tried to scream, tape was slapped across his lips and he was tossed inside the vehicle.

All the doors were shut once more, and the van sped off.

It all happened so fast.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It wasn't a very long ride.

Down south of Camden was a discreet storage yard abandoned by the marshes overlooking the Delaware River. There was no one around to witness them, and within ten minutes, they had arrived at their destination.

Ebony's pleading was ignored during the trip. These people refused to talk much. He had spotted a few helmets sitting in the trunk, almost looking futuristic like they belonged in some sci-fi dystopian setting. The closest man beside him was bald, and by his expressions, he seemed possibly Romanian.

Whatever the case, it seemed these guys needed him for something important and most likely illegal.

The car came to a sudden stop as the guns were once again raised, all of which were aimed for Ebony's head. He carefully stepped outside with his hands in the air, no longer begging for his life. It was useless saying anything.

Dolf, the bald assailant, led him towards the warehouse. The doors opened, revealing the absolute state of turmoil inside.

The scattered blood on the walls and floor weren't a good sign. Ebony gulped, seeing a severed leg tucked underneath a wheelbarrow. Tangled chains dangled from the ceiling, and several armed men walked forward to greet him.

"We've heard nothing but positivity in regards to your work." Dolf spoke, continuing to guide him deeper into the warehouse. "It seems all of Jersey loves you, Doctor Ebony."

"Look man, just tell me why I'm here. Please, we can work something out."

"You're here because you're the best in the business."

Up ahead were a few curtains. It was clear there was a silhouette behind them. Ebony was shoved forward by one of the guards here, giving him no time to process everything around him.

The curtains were drawn aside, displaying a wounded man with a bandaged waist. He was leaning against a shelf, clutching his sides and struggling to stand upright. His dark curly hair was untidy, and his heavy bearded face was scarred.

He took one look at his crew before coughing, his deep accent was clearly Australian. "About fucking time."

No longer able to keep himself stable, he slouched forwards and fell face-first. A few men rushed forward to help him back, noticing the small patch of blood he left behind from the impact.

Ebony was once more pushed forwards. He could tell they needed him to help this figure, but it felt wrong. "Is that it? All these guns pointed at my head, and you just wanted me to save this guy? Take him to a fucking doctor, why am I getting dragged into this?"

"You're a smart man, you should know by now that we're not ordinary citizens." Dolf stepped aside, lowering his gun in the process. "A hospital will just attract heat. He needs urgent and inconspicuous medical care. Who better than a well-praised veterinarian?"

"You couldn't have just kidnapped a doctor and forced him to stay quiet? Where the hell do I even begin?"

Dolf lit a cigar and sat down atop an office chair. "I believe you're familiar with bullet wounds. You grew up in a dangerous neighborhood. The 'hood', as they would call it. Surely you've witnessed a thing or two regarding violence there."

Ebony looked over to the nearest table containing some medical supplies and sharp objects. Time was of the essence. "Have you been tracking me? Who sent you?"

"You are not at liberty to ask questions, Doctor Ebony. Save this man's life, and you will be compensated."

Staring down the barrels of multiple rifles, he knew he had no other choice in this matter. On a nearby desk was an assortment of tools needed for the operation. The injured man was already helped atop a stone platform.

No amount of continued chatter could change anyone's mind. So he carefully approached his patient, eyeing the white bandage still drenched in blood. Unwrapping it, he was able to get a better look at the wound itself.

These idiots didn't even attempt to remove the bullet lodged inside his waist. They hoped the bandage would stop the bleeding in time. It's like a parent doing the bare minimum and placing a small bandaid over a scar, like that's going to solve anything.

Survival was still possible, only if the following procedures were done right. Sanitation was top priority however, ensuring nothing became infected.

Fortunately for these individuals, Ebony knew what to do. Glancing at the supplies and tools at hand, it should be enough to at least stabilize the subject.

Unfortunately for YOU however, I don't know jack shit about treating bullet wounds. I tried asking Wikihow for help and it said to call 911. So for those of you wanting to see how he's going to save this person's life, I really have no clue lol. But those of you who are uncomfortable with blood, gore or wounds, then today's your lucky day! Not that any of you particular people are even reading this. If you can't handle blood, you should have stopped reading by chapter fucking 3 or something.

And with the sudden change of narrative, we magically get to see the aftermath of the operation. Surprise, surprise... Ebony saved the guy. What a shocker. Who would have seen that coming? This is the problem with prequels, there's no tension when you already know who lives or dies especially when it's written poorly. At least it's good for lore.

Finally ending this short comedic segment that is slowly coming back to the story and becoming the norm again; Ebony examined the bloodied bullet in between his fingers. His patient was barely conscious, still laying over his back.

Ebony dropped the bullet in a small container, taking off the gloves that were handed to him. Dolf had seen everything, still sitting atop a small chair in the middle of this room with a newspaper in hand.

"He'll live." Ebony spoke, trying not to sound nervous. "As long as he doesn't move around too much, he should stabilize on his own within a few days. No paralyzation, no permanent injuries."

Instead of responding, Dolf looked back at the newspaper. The vet was already annoyed by these circumstances, so he started talking again, only louder this time. "I did it, ok? That was my job, it's the reason you brought me here. Well he's alive! So can I just go back home?"

"No."

It wasn't Dolf who answered him. He was still focused on the newspaper. Ebony tilted his head to the side, looking at the man that he had just saved.

He was struggling to sit up, a white bandage was the only thing strapped around him as he was entirely shirtless. It was clear that he was fit. He had the Henry Cavill body that could turn lesbian women straight and straight men gay (except me cause I'm not gay). But it's not a matter of him being attractive, it was a matter of how strong he was. It was almost as if he's been training and lifting weights since birth.

Out of instinct, Ebony tried to stop him as he would with any other patient. "Don't try to sit up, you need to stay where you are."

"Think I can sit without crumbling, kid." He disobeyed the vet's orders, straightening his back as he sat on the edge of the altar.

Ebony sighed, taking another quick glance around him. "How much longer do I have to stay here? I did everything y'all asked me to."

"Zip it mate, you've yapped on long enough. But you listen here now. If I wanted someone to treat this wound, I'd have found a bloody doctor for it. Certainly not a vet that only knows his way around a bitch. That's what you call a dog, right?"

"Then why am I here?"

"Because you have a dream, and I want to make it a reality."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Roger Helvius, or you can just call me Captain Roger."

Standing outside the warehouse, Roger chugged a can of rootbeer. He was wearing a brown leather jacket over his shirtless torso. The white bandage was still wrapped around his waist.

Ebony sat awkwardly atop a barrel, looking up to the sky. He just wanted to return home, but after everything he's heard, a part of him wanted to stay and listen.

Roger tossed the empty can away, walking over and standing in front of the vet. "There's a lotta things out there you don't know exist. You call your ideas crazy because you believe they can't be made. But where I'm from, these crazy ideas don't begin to sound so crazy anymore. You haven't even asked how the hell I'm actively walking."

"I assumed it was your physique. Though you should still take it easy." Ebony commented quietly.

"I don't take things easy. Only I decide what's good for me."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Ebony was no longer fearing for his life, especially since he had been given a confirmation that nobody would be killing him.

This whole time, they spoke about him. They talked as if they knew everything about him. He wasn't told who they were or what it is they do around here, but Roger has shown great interest in him.

Somehow, Roger knew about Ebony's ideas. Back in the hood, he had papers taped across his walls with scientific innovations and technologies he had come up with. It was a side project he had been working on since high school.

Often finding joy and satisfaction out of helping the poor, he wanted to take things further by inventing new advancements in medicine and technology that would help humanity grow and prosper. But he never pursued those dreams. All his ideas remained thoughts, just doodles and scribbles on papers that no one would ever see.

But when Roger spoke to him, he sounded as if he not only knew about these ideas in full detail, but also that he was dead serious on bringing them to life.

"You don't want to be a vet for the rest of your life, do you?" He asked curiously, his tone making it sound like it was a negative concept. "The only ones who know your name are the locals of this city. You can become so much more than that, you and I both know it."

Ebony couldn't lie. He liked the sound of it, but could he trust this man? They were surrounded by heavily armed militia men in dark uniforms and helmets that covered their entire head.

"How would you even help?" He had to ask, he needs to know if this is too good to be true. "I appreciate the offer and the fact I get to hopefully leave this place alive, but I don't know you. I don't know what any of this is."

Roger took a step backwards, lifting one finger in the process. He walked over to another barrel, dragging it behind and placing it in front of the vet. Now that he could sit, he softly smiled.

"How about a story?"

And so he began, from the very beginning.

"A long time ago in a galaxy that's not so far away, there was an old Aussie man with a dream. His name was Kent Samson. At the time, Kent had just gotten discharged from his time serving in the Australian military. He was rich, he knew the ins and outs of the government, and he was smart."

"Now, because of his connections with the local military, he was able to hatch up a plan. All he's ever wanted was to improve the army, to turn them into warriors that could never lose a war. He started his own organization mainly thanks to his charisma, even went as far as bringing his old mates from service to aid him. But a few things didn't go according to plan. One thing, the government caught on to what he was doing and they didn't approve of it. He just wanted to help them, but it didn't matter. They forced him out. Because of this, he had to switch things up, and he knew that now it had to be a secret."

"In the beginning, his group was small. He would recruit random folks from gyms or anyone who seemed strong. I was lucky enough to get chosen, but it wasn't because of my strength. Kent and I go way back, before he even started this whole operation. We were close friends, almost like brothers. I agreed to go with him on a trip to the outback, and it was there that he introduced me to his work."

"This son of a bitch had stolen not just weapons and armor from the Australian military, but also classified documents on certain prototypes. He waved them off as his own, and it appeared his loyal assistants believed him. I also fell victim to his lies. He broadened his search, now looking for technicians. During the coming months, his group was growing into a company. He made it, his dreams were coming true."

"Here's another thing he had; spies. Anyone still in the military that followed him gave him intel on upcoming missions, drills and patrols. He did his homework and researched criminals, wanting to prove what he was capable of. And then it happened. Our first assignment. We had to kill a man that the Australian government deemed a traitor. The terrifying part was how able and willing we all were to complete this contract. It just came to show his true power in ordering others to do his work for him."

"Now, as for the mission itself, we did it. It took a few of us to track the target down and follow his routine. Then one day, one of us snuck into his room at nightfall and put a silencer to his brain. If that wasn't enough, we also robbed him. This man had millions, and we secured all of it. Cash, credit cards, bank transactions, documents; you name it. Kent told us it was for the greater good, that we were doing what the military was incapable of accomplishing. We used the money to fund our organization and we expanded."

"I'll skip over some details, but we grew into what was later known as the Division. We had actual operatives, hired hitmen, trained combatants, skilled technicians and engineers on standby. It was also at around this time that Kent began experimenting with new gear. Soon, we had advanced rifles, grapplers, wingsuits; shit we had it all. Under his supervision, I was trained to become the best of the best. A killing machine that could accomplish any mission under any circumstances. I even met my wife there, as she was also brought in for her incredible bravery and intelligence."

"But after some point, things started to change. You might freak out at this part, but in the beginning, we were human. Even after completing contracts and assassinating figures, we were still human. But as Kent's formulations continued to expand, he accomplished the impossible. Biological human cloning. He replicated us as expendable units. It was his greatest breakthrough, one that changed everything. I found it despicable, it just wasn't right. My wife on the other hand didn't seem to care. However, the one man they cloned was seemingly perfect. He doubled our strength, intelligence, endurance and stamina. They called him Tron."

"Despite not agreeing to the cloning, I opted to stay. That was until the settings of our Division altered. All of Kent's agents were beginning to dress in suits. He had started watching spy movies and had gotten the inspiration to go all out with his organization. He treated everything like it was some sort of film. Tron went along with it and encouraged it. At some point, I couldn't even identify my old buddy again. It was a sudden change, and to this day I still don't know what happened to him. How does a man like him just snap and ruin his livelihood over cinema?"

"I couldn't stand to see Kent go down this path any longer, and after an argument, I called him a cunt. He seemed to have taken it personally as the next day he announced that his new name would be Cuntfield, and he was branding himself as the Director of the Division. He became obsessed with the film industry, wanting everything to go according to a script. So he created a formula that he would inject into his agents, the first being Tron. This caused his operatives to think like him and share his mindset, but it didn't stop there. It affected the world around them. Anyone within close proximity of any agent would have their senses shut off. You could strip naked in public and shoot bloody missiles into the air, and no one would bat an eye."

"As I said, this man made the impossible happen, but I wanted no part of it anymore. Our missions no longer served a purpose. We just had to do whatever sounded amusing and would look good on camera. My wife was opposed to this idea as well, but she was determined to stay because she enjoyed what she had become. She liked the prospect of being an assassin, believing she was delivering justice in an unjust world."

"And so I defected. I left Kent after another verbal disagreement and we parted ways, but I didn't stop there. I knew he had to be stopped before he would get himself killed and everyone else alongside him. What he did wasn't right. Soon thereafter, my wife and I separated, and I became alone."

...

Ebony coughed. "Uh... man what the fuck? What does any of that have to do with you kidnapping me? Clones? Dude, you're on crack."

"Yeah, yeah, I know it all sounds like a fantasy." Roger shifted, picking up another can of rootbeer from a nearby six-pack. "But I'm not done. That was story number one. Now we move onto the next part."

And now... Part 2.

"On the night of my absence from the Division, I made it clear that I was dead serious. I stole a portion of his supplies. Nicked some gear, found reports on future projects and wired around ten million Australian dollars. Believe that's around 6.6 million in your American currency. But that wasn't all I had."

"You see, I wasn't the only one who disapproved of Kent's newer methods. Seeing as he now had a clone army under his command acting as clowns, many of us started a revolt. It was all done overnight, and we sabotaged him. But what none of us expected was how quickly he was able and willing to turn on us. Rather than questioning our motives or defending himself, he fired on us."

"His clone army of programmed agents were a force to be reckoned with. We never stood a chance. And Tron; that bloody bastard was the worst of them all. If taking another man's soul wasn't bad enough, this fucker did it for the laughs. These agents killed for sport, as if it was more than just a program. We lost many soldiers, and I was fortunate enough to survive. All I have to show for it is the scar on my face. Had my head clipped with a grappler. By the time I got it off me, it damn near tore my face off."

"You want to know who gave me this scar? Because my assailant chose me to grapple into, and it was no coincidence. My wife had the opportunity to execute me, but seeing me bleed had her reconsider it. Think she still loves me, but not enough to join my side."

"Anyways, I started a group of our own. A new organization of all the survivors that would stand up against Kent. That moment was the birth of the Infernals. We aim to deliver what Kent had promised. So we gathered all our belongings and escaped with the stolen funds and supplies. We had to get someplace that Kent would never find. At first we tried Japan, worked on constructing a facility in a small and quiet village. But some of us didn't like the idea of being underground like worms or rodents. So we came up with a new plan."

"We moved to Greenland. Deep within the mountainous regions in the east. It was nearly devoid of human life except for the very rare sight of tourists at a nearby camp. But up high in those snowy mountain peaks, overlooking the endless terrain of valleys and cliffs, we felt powerful. We weren't in the outback, nor were we underground. We were touching the clouds, and that's why we chose it."

"We expanded just as Kent did. We developed new tools, armor, weapons and vehicles. Our headquarters is more than what the Division had ever hoped to become. We had the strength and the power, but what we lacked were the brains. That's where you come in."

"Ebony, we have been watching you for a very long time. And it's not just you. We have been scouting the world for talent. Christ, some of the things we did just to find people like you. You see good ol Dolf over there, the bald one? Poor lad is banned from coming within a mile of any school's proximity in the United States. It was because of him that we became aware of you. We saw your achievements, we saw your grades and your commitments."

"You will be given leadership of your own private network. It will be customized according to your preferences, and you will be put in charge over your own team. We want to see your dreams become a reality. Our purpose is to help mankind, and we believe that with you as a head leader, we can make a difference in life. You'll also be given unlimited funds for spending, added security, a secluded facility, your own assistants, and our support."

"You'll have everything you've ever desired. All you have to do is say 'yes'. Or you can return home and live the rest of your life as a veterinarian. Pups are adorable to look at, ain't they?"

...

Roger stood up from the barrel, showing off a smirk. He took another sip out of his rootbeer before crushing the can in his hand. Right when we started walking away, he heard a response from behind.

"How can I know I can trust you? Six and a half million bucks doesn't cover everything you've told me; and that's if you're even telling the truth. You never even mentioned what happened at this warehouse."

The Captain slowly turned his head back around to face him, his smirk fading away. He reached into his pocket, revealing a phone. Tapping away, he edged his way closer to Ebony. He turned the phone around, showcasing an image.

It was a photo of him in a suit and a young blonde woman beside him in white. His wedding photo. Even the Uluru rock in the Aussie outback could be seen behind them. They looked so happy to be with one another. It was true love.

"Trinity Herman. The woman of my dreams." The way Roger spoke sounded as if he was about to shed a tear. But he never did. He just smiled back at the picture. "We're expecting a baby, you know? Somehow after all the shit we went through, we got back together peacefully. One thing led to another, and she's now pregnant."

Was this supposed to make Ebony feel sympathetic towards him? He still hasn't forgotten that just a short while ago, Roger's men had rifles shoved in his face. These people were dangerous.

"Look, kid," Roger concealed his phone back into his pockets, "I know just how you feel. You want reassurance, but unfortunately for you, I have none. I'm not a saint. None of us are. We're a band of rich thieves and killers with a perverted and corrupt sense of justice. But that's what every government around the world is like. Unlike them, I offer a chance at a new and better life."

He placed a hand over his waist. "We were on our way to find you, then a few agents appeared with their fancy guns. Kent still wants me dead after all this time. Got those cunts trapped in the warehouse and managed to kill them, but not without losing a few of our own. I was lucky enough to receive just a single bullet."

"What's stopping them from coming after me if I decide to join you?" The idea of having your dreams come true at the cost of being in permanent danger didn't sound so nice. If anything, it made Ebony want to walk away from it all.

"Because you won't be an Infernal. You're a CEO of a separate advanced government facility being backed by an anonymous source. No one will investigate you and no one will find you. Treat your staff well, keep everyone in line, and you will flourish."

Still, Ebony rolled his eyes. "That's the thing. You're backing me up, but I want to know how. As I said, six million dollars doesn't cut it given the work you do. If I'll be working with you, I need to know what it is you do to make everything possible."

Roger bit his lip, letting out a brief exhale as his hands were placed against both sides of his waist. "I told you; we're thieves. Just as Kent secured his finances, we steal what we find. Christ kid, no one's free of bloody sin! But we do what we can to ensure our future. The money we've robbed is being used to fund humanity's survival."

"So I'm placing my life in the hands of a deceiver." Ebony crossed his arms. A conflict sparked in his brain, wondering if any of this was even worth it.

"An honest deceiver with secrets that could change the world in ways you've never imagined."

That told Ebony all he wanted to know.

"I'm going home then."

Walking past Roger, he straightened his white coat and approached the closest car. He stopped, looking around him. That was the signal for one of them to give him a ride. Roger just stared back expressionless, watching the innovative vet enter the backseat.

A part of him felt that this wasn't the end.

Not just yet.