The first prototype was staring directly into the camera.

* * *

He could smell his visitor approaching.

The albino had the scent of dark magic on him. He’d been touched at some point in his life and it had left him twisted. There was a blight on his soul, but unlike most damaged humans, the one called Stricken had embraced the darkness and used it to make himself stronger instead. He had a lust for power that was rare amongst mortals. It would be wise not to underestimate the albino.

The door of his cell opened and Stricken entered, alone. He was not afraid. Stricken believed he was in control. They had surgically implanted a device inside his skull, and should he rise up against his creators, they would destroy this body.

That was unacceptable.

“Looking good there, my badass genetically engineered killing machine.”

He remained seated as Stricken approached. If he moved too much it would pull the needles and sensors from his body and that would upset the doctors. Their poking and experiments were tiresome, but the indignities were a small price to pay to have a physical body. It was not right to treat a prince like this, but he would bide his time, and once ascended, he would remember every single insult inflicted on him by these humans and he would repay each one a thousandfold.

“I know you’re not into small talk so I’ll get right down to business. I’ve got a job for you to do and I need to decide if you’re up to it. Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“You want to go outside?”

He nodded again.

“You mind killing some people for me?”

He shook his head in the negative.

“Of course you don’t. Mr. Foster will brief you. This operation is under his command. You’ll do exactly as he tells you. You will not fail and you will not allow yourself to be captured. Your primary target will be Agent Franks of the Monster Control Bureau.”

Franks? It was a common enough human surname. “Will you tell me about this Franks?”

Stricken seemed a little surprised that he’d bothered to ask a question. “That’s just what Franks named himself. He’s a powerful flesh golem.”

It was fate. Yet, they still think he is a mere golem? That is all? Franks had successfully hidden his true identity all this time. Such patience and restraint was remarkable, especially for one capable of such anger.

“Don’t worry. Franks is old technology, nothing like you and your siblings. We’ve arranged it so that he should be unarmed, but just in case I’ll be sending some help with you. Foster will give you a rundown on Franks’ known capabilities. He’ll also brief you on your secondary and tertiary targets and mission parameters. This one will require some finesse and then a whole lot of bloodshed. Are you ready?”

He nodded.