Faster, Smarter, Stronger-But We're Evil (Strakh)

[Harbinger]

His heavy boots clomped down the anthill-like halls like a metronome, passing one more guard post on his way into the deepest part of the complex. They were more lax here than at the front. Few to no one ever got this deep into the complex, and they must have figured anyone would be insane to try to fake having such high security clearance to get inside.

The soldiers snapped to attention quickly enough, when he gave them a stern glare, and as soon as the one was perusing his credentials, they jointly opened the door into …

a rather boring engineer's laboratory. He'd been expecting a few more bells and whistles, after the last half hour of build up. Indeed, the room didn't even seem very well lit - not that it mattered. A few things here and there hinted at things of a more magical nature, but even those couldn't overcome the sense of blandness about the place.

The other people in the room - two sitting, two standing - were anything but common.

The woman behind the desk sat with unquestionable nobility, her black hair cut just an inch or two longer than a male soldier such as himself. There was a scientific detachment to her eyes, as if even now she was making calculations and pondering experiments - most assuredly involving the assortment of male figures that now lined her room. He didn't know her personally, but the file he'd been given gave him a cursory idea of who she was.

Save the glasses on her face, which had a certain artistic flair to the rims, she nevertheless seemed to lack much of the common elements of "femininity." No jewelry adorned her neck or her ears, much less anywhere else on her body. He doubted she was even wearing make up over her flawlessly fair skin.

Harbinger let his eyes trail left, and caught on someone else he didn't recognize. The white clerical collar said he was the religious type without being asked, and the way he was sipping tea only made him seem further inappropriate to the depths of a military base.

But he'd heard stories about such a salt-and-pepper haired old man, and "stories" though they may have been, Nemov had long learned to put little past the dark side of his government. His eyes narrowed on the figure, who seemed to hardly notice the others around as the tea cup was lowered from his lips. There was something in his bearing that took Nemov a moment to place, and when he did, it surprised him it took him any time at all.

Control. He felt "in control."

The other pair rested a little ways off. The yellow-furred beast seemed on edge, hands loosely at his sides, nervously shifting around as if he was expecting the worst at any moment. The pathetic look on his canine face would have almost made him feel a spike of empathy, had he not dealt with beasts enough to know better.

Right next to him the last was seated: a firey-haired man lounging in his chair, one boot idly set on the table next to him. A beer would have been appropriate in his hands, with the way he was as relaxed as a frat boy. The distinct lack of gravity in his bearing somehow caused a sliver of resentment in the soldier, in what he saw as not taking the situation seriously enough.

Being part of a secret project with experimental technology and utilized by a handful of the best Ruthenia had to offer - it was something he thought would be handled with a bit more respect.

At least he showed up on time.

Nemov's legs spread a little bit, and he put his hands behind his back in the familiar soldier's pose.

"We're one member short," Harbinger stated.

"We were down two a moment prior," the woman said from behind her desk, swiveling slightly in her chair and leaning back just a tad.

[Strakh Konstantin]

"So impatient. " The thin reedy man sighed as he entered the room, tall and gaunt and pale enough to resemble a midnight visitor in a children's horrifying cautionary faery tale. Yellow eyes scanned the room, settling on each of the others called to this meeting in turn. He'd read all the information he could on each of them, had scraped idle guards' thoughts for every morsel of knowledge related to his knew... Well, teammate was a strong word.

Let's go with colleagues, then.


Longer than foot soldier regulation hair was tied back in a neat bun as the man walked into the room, licking his lips and occasionally parting them only to close them again. There was quite the different variety of emotions running around in this room... it made for an interesting little buffet as the information specialist stood a few feet off of Nemov's side. "Strakh Konstantin reporting." he said, looking at the soldier, and musing a little. "Sir." he added as an afterthought, though it was fairly obvious he didn't really care for it.

His gaze rested on the only woman in the room, a smirk tugging at his grim visage. "I can see I'm not the only one who wants to get this over with." he stated, looking meaninfully at the yellow furred beast and the young man who was much too relaxed.

His brow furrowed a little when he returned his attention to the wide chested soldier near him. Always so stoic, that one. Even now his emotions were calm and controlled.

"Well? Shall we get started with this little... information session?"

[Shepherd]

The tea was cold, as he slowly sipped it to himself. He might have considered warming it, except he didn't care to tip that much of his power to them. The cautious side of himself was still waiting, observing, taking in the whole scene and all those who now filled this room.

It would have been frightening, for a lesser mage - the amount of power in that one room. Between the six of them, they practically had enough magic to choke a person on the air.

A glance to the side, to where the red haired "young" man, betrayed his slight interest. The newcomer was trying to play the Nightmare, but Martin had lived long enough to know that appearances weren't everything. His sense of magic taught him much more.

His focus wavered more on the canine, clearly wracked for nerves. A moment once spent wondering why he was there had already been answered - Janaar's existence had taught him as much. Janaar's existence had also taught him that those non-humans who make it through the government's "training" were not to be taken lightly.

"We would, if you'd stop talking," the woman snapped at the "creep's" commentary, forcing Martin's attention to her. The seated woman was as bristly and cold as an ice-made flower, and even if he thought he was stronger, he knew her presence must mean she had skill - just like everyone else here.

The group took one moment of silence, before she continued, "You've all read the briefing. What we're here for - this initiative - we'll be going against the standard form of doing things."

"More than assassination," the red-haired one stated, and at least his voice sounded serious.

"Less than war," the soldier across from him added one beat after him.

"Yes," she replied, one more inch of annoyance added to her internal measurement. "But before we get around to that ... we're going to be using different codenames than the ones the government has given us."

The yellow dog frowned visibly, and though less pronounced, his confusion was echoed by the soldier and the red-hair.

[Strakh Konstantin]

The gaunt man's expression wasn't quite angry at being snapped at. More... amused. He gave the icy woman a small condescending smile as he listened to the others give their opinions. "A long overdue solution." he added after them. That much made sense. They wouldn't be putting him in any conventional unit, after all. Different codenames, though?

"Why don't we just go with numbers and call it a day, then?" he muttered with a sigh, not particularly bothered on whether he was heard. He hoped this meeting had more of a purpose than discussing something as simple and inconsequential as code names.

[Blue]

The dog stayed quiet. He was used to being quiet, and just listening. It was the best way to not get hurt, in his experience. Just listen and do what you're told. Even the presence of Red at his side wasn't enough to change his lack of confidence in this place, surrounded by these people.

His hands remained at his sides, but he so wanted to take hold of his arm across his chest - a protective gesture he knew would be futile, considering the magical read he was getting off the others around. The image of their home was kept an inch away from his mind, ready to grasp it if he needed to get out fast.

The red-haired warrior was first to chime in, a confident smirk gracing his features and somehow giving the dog an extra bead of confidence himself.

"Never been much of a numbers guy. I'm partial to the name Red," the warrior said, and then thumbed at the retriever. "He's Blue."

The dog instinctively tried to look down at the collar of the same color on his neck.

The man dressed like a pastor must have caught the gesture, because he made a gesture to his own white clerical collar.

"I suppose that would make me White," he said before sipping the end of his tea and setting it down on a nearby work table.

[Strakh Konstantin]

Colors? They were going with colors? It felt a bit... juvenile... to Strakh. Like children playing special forces in the courtyard. The gaunt man licked his pale lips, tapping his elbow as he tasted the air again. Yellow eyes glanced towards the only obviously non human in the room, half lidded eyes feigning disinterest. "Green." He said simply, hoping that would account for any participation in the ridiculous conversation they expected of him as he studied the taste of the air from Blue's corner of the room.

Nervous, for certain. Tense. It was a delightful little cocktail of tastes that he'd come to thoroughly enjoy during his 'information gathering' sessions, but the mean spirited glee it usually caused was dampened with a bit of concern. This was the emotional state of someone who was part of their new unit? He'd read the reports, he knew the man was reliable... but it still didn't inspire any confidence to Strakh.

He realized he'd been staring with a gaze probably too hard for a colleague, and shifted to pass his gaze impassively over the rest of the room again, taking in it's occupants once more. Honestly, he hoped there was more to this meeting than codenames. That could have been passed along in a communiqué just as well as the actual invitation to the meeting proper.

[Blue]

The dog glanced back at the gaunt man just once, when he took in a deep breath. He could practically feel the zombie-like figure's gaze trailing over him - searching, probing. His uniform covered up most of his body, but clothing barely offset the vulnerability he was feeling. Old marks seemed to burn on his skin, out of sight.

Too many super-powered warriors in one place - it was a powder keg. He couldn't relax, or drop his guard.

Red seemed to be holding back the need to say a joke, with that grin on his face. The dog had seen it many a time before, and seen him get in trouble for them before. A spike of dread, of fear of pain, lanced itself into his heart as he contemplated the magical monoliths standing around the room.

The soldier added in a quick, "Black," as his own codename for the project, and multiple eyes looked to the last person in the room to comment.

As if waiting for that moment, the fire-haired warrior shot off his mouth before the blonde canine could nudge him a warning.

"So if you're the token female comrade in this little operation, does that mean that you're Pink?"

His blood pulsed warmer.

The scientist stared at Red flatly, and responded with a complete lack of emotion to say, "Sure. I'll be Pink."

The warrior's smile faded as the stone faced woman cut the legs out from his simple attempt at humor. The canine's heart rate quieted slightly, silently thankful the woman gave zero shits about playing or downplaying gender stereotypes.

"Now to more important things," she added in, speaking the mind of several around the room. "You've already been told a little bit about each other and you have a grasp about the concept behind this team. Now here's the part you haven't been told about in the documents."

Opening a drawer to her desk, she pulled out a briefcase and laid in out in front of her.

"Red, White - you two are old enough, though your records to that time have been redacted," she continued. The dog looked more confused for a moment, as he wondered what she was talking about. He looked to the warrior, whose party boy attitude seemed to sour just slightly.

"Did you two fight Kusanagi in the World War?"

[Shepherd]

The cold tea suddenly felt bitter on his tongue. He swallowed it down, and tried to forget.



Beams of light passed through him for the dozenth time, his shadowy figure as dauntless as water.

But this figure sheathed his gun in frustration, and charged - almost a blur of motion, sleek armor practically a body suit. He threw a punch at him, faster than a normal human had the right.

He was still faster - blocking it with his own arm, he felt the magic inherent to the suit doing its best to hurt him even as the figure threw a left. He caught it between them, and anger lashed out.

The helmeted figure didn't expect the lance of darkness shooting from his opponent's chest, and thats why his helmet went rolling on the ground, the rest of his body slumping straight down.

A scream in a foreign tongue saw three more figures, dressed in similar armored suits, charging forward at him. Their shots were just as ineffective.

A straight blast of shadow fired towards them in an arc. It hammered one in the chest, knocking him back, even as the others dodged - one jumping over, one sliding under.

They attacked simultaneously, four pairs of limbs trying to strike at him over and over again with inhuman strength. His shadow rose up to block their attacks for him even as he slipped into the ground to escape.

It was too easy, jumping up behind one and snapping its neck, helmet wrench to the side.

It was too easy, for his shadow to take advantage of the other's stunned breath and spear through the armor a dozen times.

It was too easy, because they weren't mages.

Humans, with guns and armor like he'd never seen.

He didn't have time to breathe. He looked out over the battlefield, across the smoke and clouds and the cinders, and saw his line breaking against the dozens like them. He saw beyond, to where the machines were standing, their massive cannons firing lasers out upon the Ruthenian troops, and slaughtering them wholesale.

Something animalistic in him growled out the boiling inside his body, and the darkness swelled around him like fire. It churned and danced and rose up around him, bigger and broader, a consuming froth of shadowed nightmares, eager to -



He sipped his tea again, and swallowed the bitter down.

"Affirmative," he replied expressionlessly, holding the cup of tea in front of him.

[Blue]

The dog looked from the woman, to his own human. He glanced away only to hear the response of the man with the white religious band around his neck.

The smirk that so characterized the red-haired human's features had been replaced with a more stoic seriousness - the kind that had been on the soldier's face since he got there.



"Was it ... was it that bad?" he dared to ask, catching his gaze before it lifted too far from the steaks he was grilling.

The marble-skinned man drank his vodka all the way down. He didn't reply for awhile. The dog kept his eyes on the slowly heating meat, and the crackle of juices.

"Worse," he said at last. It was a subdued word, and sounded like he wanted to call it an understatement.

"The Arcadians were tricky. They rarely fight war they way most people think it. They use magic. They use ploys. They fought like it was guerilla warfare on a massive scale."

"The natives of the continent were monsters, all. Strong and dangerous and tough and if you didn't have a mage who knew what they were doing, they could plow through ordinary troops like strolling through the park."

"But it was Kusanagi that hit us the hardest," he explained with a tad more regret in his voice.

"Kusanagi," Blue tried to repeat the odd word, glancing over his shoulder again, just in time to see Red draining another beer.

"Even their basic troops were outfitted with advanced armor and tech that made them outright superhuman, and they had war machines like ..."

"The 'mechs'," Blue offered, remembering what one of his trainers had called them.

Red's face tensed.

"Mechanical dragons, more like, standing upright like a man, but just as deadly, guns firing destructive beams more powerful than most mages can even make. They could wipe out hundreds in seconds."

"But you could do that, too, if you tried," Blue tried to say encouragingly.

The red-haired man took a measured breath. Then he let loose a dark laugh.

"I could. I did."



"Wouldn't have been a party without them," Red said morbidly.

"Not the word I would have chosen to describe it," White replied softly.

"Yeah well *uck it," the warrior snapped at him.

The canine flinched as if struck, shoulders tightened up.

White looked to him just for a second, and didn't say anything further.

[Strakh Konstantin]

The woman's statement made a single whispy brow rise in surprise, first at the notion that these men were veterans of the world war and then at the thought that the records had been stricken. No, redacted. Forbidden knowledge , then. It was hard for Strakh not to push towards it with his powers, the man reigning himself in. He didn't want to cause an incident just for a bit of curiosity. Besides, the heavy, serious vibe that fell on the room as two men reminisced and a third fretted was relaxing enough. No reason to mess that up, not when he could calmly collect the story later on.

Still, it would be nice to know why the Beast wasn't liking the reminder that 'Red' had been in the war. Maybe the man was more violent when he was on a mission. Still, much as these thoughts interested him, there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Are we expecting the resistance to have their technological support, then?" he asked coolly, not particularly enjoying the thought. Swaths of soldiers were fine. Find a single scaredy cat, and his illusions could burn and drown a good number in a massive confusion. But Giant robots and mechanical dragons, that was another story altogether. The sensors made his illusions worthless, especially since he couldn't give them physical form if he couldn't connect them to someone's emotions.

//I doubt I would have been called here if that was the case... unless they want to get rid of me. Yeah, I could understand that.//

[Harbinger]

"Unthinkable," the newly named Black stated authoritatively. "Kusanagi remains entrenched behind its own barrier, content to ignore everyone else. While a few lucky stragglers have slipped through our walls, in to or out, there are zero reports on anything remotely connected to Nagian tech getting through, much less into the hands of the Resistance."

"Accurate to what I have heard as well. Kusanagi is ambivalent - and the upper branches of government are content to let them stay that way, for now," White replied, nodding in the soldier's direction.

His words added more weight to Val's ideas as to who the man was, factoring in a high place in government along with the kind of magical ability he must have had to be in this room.

Then White turned toward the woman again as he continued, "But you have a different reason for bringing them up, I believe - central to why we're here, in this sub-basement, and with that briefcase."

The soldier followed his own glance, to the unopened package. He expected notes, secret reports - things of that nature which had crossed his desk many times in recent years.

"You couldn't have managed to -" White added, in a calm state of inquisitive disbelief.

"Figured out their technology?" she finished for him. She snapped the briefcase latches open. "No. But I've reverse engineered it enough, to make these."

From out of the briefcase, she drew forth what looked like a metallic wristwatch.

"Snappy men's wear?" Red commented sarcastically.

The soldier took a deep breath, and repressed the desire to roll his eyes.