RaynieTaco
Member
In the city of Valmere, people are still picking up the pieces of what was left behind of their mundane lives. The war has torn the city into little more than dilapidated buildings and orphaned children. The fight for land, resources, and powers verberated through the cities all around the continent. A hesitant peace has settled throughout the lands but many fear it is only temporary. It has been several years, nearly twenty now since the last battles had been fought but for poor cities like Valmere, it could have been yesterday. Improvement was slow at first- the fatality rate for those who fell to the horrendous conditions was high and climbing every day. So when the government stepped in, the world power who smashed the Ashlatas who rebelled, it was like a prayer was answered. In those twenty years, they were able to get the city center back and running with markets, schools, and security. The homes were still in poor conditions, the crime rate was still high, and the wealthy watched from their ivory towers guarded by high walls and expensive weapons. Yet, somehow the government was able to twist the view into some sense of happiness and gratefulness to the cause. Little did they know that those people who offered up everything to help was truly up to unspeakable horrors.
The world power established a lot when they started to help the Valmere citizens pick up the pieces of their crowded hull of rubble and death. The cost of the rebuild was exponential but even so, they never asked the citizens for much. Loyalty, a small tax, and the law that stated they must send their orphans to the newly built training facility in the middle of the Barrens on the outskirts of their city. They would train those children who had no family, or often those children whose parents were unable to raise their babies, to be the next military force in any war to come. Desperation clouded the eyes of those distraught people and with that- those young souls who lost everything were to be trained to be soldiers in a war they didn't start. But it was much worse than they could have ever foreseen. Those kids were not just to be brainwashed vessels of the government, but also the superhumans that would change the way war would be fought for the rest of their days.
Upon getting to the facility that was surrounded by dangerous, unexplored woods soaked with radiation and death, the older children would be murdered if they did not comply with experimentation. Most did perish whether they conformed or not. They found the younger the child, the more susceptible they were to the alternation to their DNA. They were homebrewing mutants and cultivating the ones that survived to be loyal to their cause. Many of the orphans there didn't remember their lives outside the walls of the facility that held them captive. Most assumed the danger they were training to fight were real threats that needed to be combatted. Fear of the soldiers and doctors pushed them to be better than the ones before them. Desperation, much like the people of Valmere, cause them to be complacent to power. Until the tattered remains of the Ashlatas rose up like a phoenix and in their mix- a mutant who escaped from the clutches of those who made him. War is brimming at the surface, ready to explode. Those people at the facility will come to make a very difficult decision- to fight with the government who housed, protected, and enslaved them or fight alongside one of their brothers who seemingly turned his back on them. This is war- there is no time to cry.
