Part 1 – Freedom at Last

Talon Base, Location Unknown…

Darkness, almost completely pitch black, chains holding him in a sitting position, a cold, stone floor, no bed, and complete silence.

Years prior, he wouldn't have been treated so horribly, he still remembered the face of his parents who loved him dearly before they were murdered.

He would have been as tall as his father which he got his brown hair from that now hung low at his waist from, the Caucasian/Native American skin he got from his parents was now pale, even by Caucasian standards.

His eyes, the glorious deep blue that he got from his mother were full of exhaustion, the sound of absolute silence was maddening, he might have gotten five hours every week.

He could see inside the cell, being as they would lock him inside for what felt like months, and only let him out when they would force-feed him the leftovers from the base, and force water down his throat.

He could move well, but limited being as Talon had amputated his arms at the elbow and his legs at the knee so he couldn't fight back when they went to proceed with tests.

He could however workout, he knew that he could count on not having heart disease because they didn't feed him enough for him to get fat, and because he measured his heart only needed about 25 beats a minute to sustain himself.

Talon had him locked up in this cell after he had beaten another one of his fellow test subjects in combat, he had yet to meet one that he hadn't beaten.

Programs in hand to hand combat, weapons, and how to fly he was all programmed with. They basically carved a hole into his head and shoved all the information they could while trying their best not to stretch his brain to the limit.

His I.Q. was a top priority, they estimated his I.Q. was somewhere between 160 and 190, without looking he could tell that his cell was about two feet by eight feet and about eight feet high.

He estimated that it had been about seven years since his parent's deaths, he thought he was about twenty because he had a beard, they killed both his parents but left him alive because he had 'perfect genes'.

What did they mean by 'perfect genes', for becoming an assassin, becoming an agent?

He would rather die than work for Talon, he wished that he would be found by his father's organization, Overwatch who according to the stories his father had told him was the greatest collection of heroes ever.

He knew several members, the cyborg ninja Genji had been his best friend, the gorilla Winston was like his uncle, and the Commander, Jack was his Godfather.

The British pilot Tracer was a very beautiful woman, and they were pretty good friends as well.

He didn't have time to think about it any further, he heard the latch on the door turn, and light flooded inwards, burning his eyes.

The Talon goon, Reaper stepped into the room, "It's time for another trial," he said as two Talon agents walked in, picked him up by the collar of the short-sleeve spring suit they had squeezed him into.

They dragged him through the cells, the other test subjects couldn't tell that he was being taken away because they couldn't hear outside their doors.

The area they brought him into was a large arena-like room, as they strapped him down to the table that inserted his robotic arms and legs into the sockets they attached to his knees and elbows when they amputated them, they injected him with a dose of adrenaline, they ran out.

The dose wasn't strong enough to send him into a frenzy, just enough to wake him up enough for the test.

He the table inserted the limbs into the joints, which hurt like hell, the restraints on the table popped open, and he stepped off onto the floor.

"Subject 19, name: Bruce Silverstone," a voice said through the privacy glass overhead, "Subject has been exposed to multiple forms of stimuli over the years. Final testing has been approved before moving onto the final stage."

Bruce hated that voice, he knew they were going to send in someone, and if he wanted to stay alive, he would have to beat that person, and he hated attacking one of his fellow test subjects because they were just as many victims as he was.

Today was different because when the door opened, three Talon soldiers stepped into the room.

"Ok," Bruce said in a raspy voice, "Now you're talking!"

"Terminate the subject," the voice said.

Bruce charged first, his energy suddenly returned now that he was finally going to kill someone wearing a Talon uniform.

The first guard was taken completely by surprise as Bruce rammed into him, throwing him against the wall, and nearly cracking his spine.

The second grabbed Bruce's shoulder and threw him backward only for the third to deliver a kick to Bruce's gut.

Bruce stumbled backward as the second came in, Bruce bent the man's arm back and threw him in the way of his friend who punched him in the face.

Bruce released the guard, deflected the first guard's swing with his elbow, and struck him in the throat with an open palm.

The third recovered from punching his friend to see Bruce jump on him, and unleash a flurry of punches against his skull.

The first and second grabbed Bruce off of him and threw him back only to have him land on his feet.

"This one's tougher than he looks," the third guard said as he stood up, wiping away the blood trickling down the lower half of his face from his nose.

"Now that I get to kill someone from Talon," Bruce said, "I'm more energetic than ever."

"Get him," the third said.

The first and second charged him again, only for Bruce to dodge their punches, fall to his back, and kick them both backward.

The third charged only for Bruce to flip backward, kicking the guard's goggles off his head.

The low light of the arena would be a struggle for anyone to see in, but since Bruce was so accustomed to the darkness, he could easily see in there.

The first came back in with a quick jab, only for Bruce to grab the man's arm, step into the punch, hook his foot behind the back of the agent's, and toss him to the ground before snapping his wrist.

As the guard bent over, screaming, his friend grabbed Bruce around the shoulder and tried to hip-throw him, only for Bruce to drop onto his butt, flip the guard over, and with one kick dislocated his shoulder.

The final guard ran up and threw a kick for Bruce to grab his leg and snap in at the joint with his elbow.

The guard whose wrist he snapped stood up for Bruce to smash his head into the nearest wall until all that was left was the front of the guard's face.

The second guard stood up as Bruce ran back up to him, grab him by the throat, and snap his neck.

The final one saw his friends fall and watched as Bruce walked up to him, blood covering his hands.

The last thing he saw was Bruce sitting on top of him, his fists raining down a flurry of punches on top of his head.

Bruce stood up and screamed at the top of his lungs, his hands soaked in blood, that was before the lights suddenly flashed on.

Bruce shielded his eyes, he wasn't used to that much light so he shielded his eyes.

"You performed excellently," Reaper said as he grabbed Bruce by the arm, and held him very close to his face, "You deserve every bit of the reward we have selected for you."

"I'll never work for Talon," Bruce said as he grabbed Reaper's arm.

"Oh, but you will," Reaper said as he threw Bruce across the room with no effort.

Bruce landed hard against the wall, and slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

When he came to, his arms and legs had been kept, but he had been stripped down to a pair of boxers and strapped to a metal table.

Bruce struggled against the restraints as the doctors moved him down a long hallway, "It's no use my friend," one of the doctors said, "These restraints are made of pure tungsten. Unbreakable."

They brought Bruce into a large room that had a large tank filled with water, "Here we are my good man," the second scientist said, "Your destiny awaits."

They inserted small tubes into his artificial limbs, and placed a breathing mask over his mouth, "Don't want you to drown," the primary scientist said as he slapped Bruce on the chest, "Wow, that's hard, it's going to be even harder soon."

The second scientist walked up to him with a clipboard, "Name, Bruce Silverstone," he said, "Designation, Subject 19, son of the late Major John Silverstone and civilian Mary Silverstone. Age: 24," he looked at Bruce and spoke, "You're a young buck aren't you," he then looked back at his clipboard, "Testing for Substance 2-94A, approved."

The scientists hit a button which lowered Bruce into the water, it was very cold, and stung as he was completely submerged, but what he was more surprised at was he was now twenty-four, had it really been nine years since his parent's death?

He didn't have time to think about it as the scientists attacked weird nozzles to his arms and legs, and lowered a glass plate on top of the tank.

It was then that the second scientist took a large syringe that looked like it was mounted to a clear grouting gun, and took a small sample of something from a tank at the head of his tank, what ever was inside the clear syringe was sparkling, translucent, and almost turquoise but was more blue than anything.

He then inserted the needle into the machine the hoses attached to his arms were connected to, and emptied the syringe into the machine before switching it on.

The clear substance went through the hoses, and straight into his artificial limbs, but he could feel them moving further up his body, and it was very painful.

The pain felt like pure ice and fire moving through his veins until they reached his heart before a sudden seething pain started burning underneath the skin of his face.

During the pain in his face, he began thrashing left and right in the tank, but as he was thrashing, he could hear the metal bending, and creaking, whatever they were injecting him with was making him super strong.

There was a sudden 'twang' as the metal gave way underneath Bruce's thrashing, and he began smashing his hands into the glass above him.

One swing caused the glass to spider outwards, which was oddly satisfying to Bruce, another hit nearly broke it, one more hit, and 'SMASH', the glass shattered above his head.

Bruce stood up in the tank, tore the hoses from his arms and legs, and jumped down onto the floor as the scientists started screaming, "ALARM,".

Bruce had never felt so solid but limber at the same time, it was like there was flexible plastic underneath his skin.

The first thing Bruce looked towards was the scientists who made a break for the door only to find it locked.

The first scientist looked back to see Bruce walk up to them with a very murderous look on his face before picking up the nearest scalpel he could find, and trying to stab Bruce.

As soon as the blade impacted with Bruce's skin, it sank about one centimeter before bending like he had just hit a solid stone wall.

Bruce grabbed the scientist by the arm, and as he squeezed, he could feel the bones in the man's arm crunching, and could hear him screaming in pain, "STOP," he yelled, "STOP!"

Bruce picked him up by the collar of his shirt, and flung him across the room before turning to the other scientist, grabbing him around the throat, slamming him against the wall, and lifting him off his feet, "What that you injected me with," he asked.

"Please," the scientist gasped, "You have to understand."

Bruce squeezed tighter, and spoke, "You saw what I did to your friend," he said through gritted teeth, "Imagine what I'll do to you. Now what did you inject me with?"

"It's a new element," he said as he pointed to the tank at the head of the one they had him submerged in, "Fell out of the sky in Tunguska. It's a liquid-based diamond compound."

"A liquid diamond," Bruce asked, "What does it do?"

"The diamond can harden anything it's injected with," the scientist said, "We thought if we injected it into a human it would make them more powerful."

"You succeeded," Bruce said as he walked over to the tank, shoved the scientist's head into the water, and held it under until he stopped thrashing.

Bruce walked over to the tank, and reached into the liquid, the liquid was cool to the touch, but felt almost solid, like partially frozen ice.

He didn't have time to examine it further as three Talon guards burst into the room armed with assault rifles, and opened fire.

The shots sent Bruce flying backwards against the floor, but as the guards walked up to him, Bruce simply stood up, and brushed the bullets out of his skin.

Bruce charged at them, and as he reached the first guard, grabbed him by the throat, lifted him above the ground, and threw him head-first into the concrete floor.

As the other two raised their rifles, Bruce kicked the guard's into his hand, and emptied the magazine in their direction.

He liked the feeling of the rifle in his hand, but he didn't have time, he knew he had spent all the rounds in the rifle, so he gathered up the magazines from the dead troopers, and walked out of the observation room.

As he rounded another corner, one of the Talon soldiers came around the corner with a shotgun only for Bruce to mow him down as soon as he appeared.

He could see the letters on the wall, he knew what his first mission was: save the others.

As he followed the signs, he felt one of the Talon soldiers shoot him in the back with his own rifle, Bruce turned around, and dropped him very quickly.

The entrance to the prison control room was a simple wooden door that splintered as soon as Bruce threw his shoulder into it.

He quickly set the rifle down on the table next to the entrance, and walked up to the guard who tore his sidearm out of his holster only for Bruce to grab it and the guard's hand.

Bruce slowly squeezed on the soldier's hand, virtually crushing it before the soldier let go of the weapon, Bruce put the weapon down on the table, grabbed the soldier around the neck, and slammed him against the wall, "What's the date," he asked.

"October 2nd," the guard gasped.

"What year," Bruce asked.

"2075," the guard said.

"You know where I can find Overwatch," Bruce asked.

"Overwatch," the guard asked, "Overwatch has been disbanded for six years. The Petrus Act made all Overwatch activity illegal. You have nowhere to run buddy."

Bruce couldn't believe what he was hearing, Overwatch, the organization that his father once faithfully served, the organization that had saved the world more times than he could count had been disbanded.

Bruce let the guard fall to the ground before turning toward the door controls, and pressing the open button.

The doors to the cells swung open, and the subjects all ran out, they hadn't had their limbs cut off, but they were slightly malnourished.

But what Bruce saw next shocked him to his core, his reflection in mirror, through the beard and the long hair he saw that the crystal substance they injected him with had altered the appearance of his face.

It looked like his face was sculpted out of stone, his entire face was almost completely geometric shapes, hard angles, and flat surfaces.

He didn't even recognize himself anymore, but as soon as he heard grunting, he turned around to see the soldier coming at him with a ka-bar knife.

Bruce grabbed his hand, flung him against the window, then against the wall, and finally began slamming him head-first into the console until he stopped moving.

As soon as he exited the control room, he saw the other subjects had gotten weapons, and were already tearing into the guards.

Bruce didn't have time to think about that because as soon as he walked through the door, the Talon mastermind Reaper grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him against the wall, "I knew you had potential," he said, "But now it seems all you are is a pest, and there's only one thing to do with a pest."

"That would be a problem," Bruce said before squeezing down on Reaper's gauntlet which caused him to grunt in pain, "I'm taller."

Bruce grabbed Reaper around the throat, and flung him into the nearest wall.

Bruce reached back into the room to grab the rifle only for Reaper to punch the rifle clean in half.

He then grabbed Bruce, and threw him backwards through the glass of the prison command center.

Bruce stood up as Reaper jumped through the window, the swing he threw Bruce's way was blocked by Bruce's right arm, Bruce stepped into the swing, and brought his elbow hard against the side of Reaper's face.

Reaper stumbled backwards, but as Bruce came in, he blocked the swing, and kicked Bruce backwards against the nearest wall.

Landing against the wall was not fun, but with freedom on his mind, Bruce donkey-kicked Reaper backwards, and ran as fast as he could down the hallway.

"Run if you will," Reaper said, "I will hunt you down."

The exit was a large tunnel that could be flooded if need be, Bruce could already see the others had made it out because he could see the bloody footprints they made as they ran down the tunnel.

Bruce could see the light of day at the end of the tunnel, it was the first time he would have been outside in years, but as he was approaching the end, he could see that he was somewhere very, very cold.

Luckily there was a Talon soldier lying next to the door, Bruce could tell just by looking at him that they were roughly the same size, so he quickly grabbed the soldier's pants, and coat, "I'm really sorry about this," Bruce said as he hugged the coat close to himself, "No hard feelings."

Bruce stepped out into the cold light of day, it was the first time he felt the sun, the smell of fresh air, and he had to admit it, it was beautiful.

Guess what happens next…