Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sounds of gunfire could be heard as bullets went flying at a teenage boy who could be seen standing inside a large arena that had many metal pillars scattered around the place. More gunshots could be heard before the boy moved quickly behind one of the metal pillars, blocking the bullets from hitting him. One of the bullets ricocheted off one of the metal pillars, causing it to graze the teenager's cheek.

"Damn! How could I have been so careless as to let a bullet hit me?" the teenager cursed with an annoyed face. It had been a long time since the last time he had been hit by a bullet. The realization that he had made an error made him irritated. The sound of whistling bullets aiming right at him could be heard. Not wasting any time, the teenager quickly moved from pillar to pillar, evading the bullets before seamlessly taking out a small pistol from his waist. Coming to a stop behind one of the pillars, he slowly peeked out from behind it, aiming the muzzle of the pistol at the turret that had been firing at him. He was about to shoot when a stern voice sounded.

Training scenario one done, the voice said before speaking again. Listen closely. Your new objective is to defeat all the robots in five minutes with nothing but the pistol you are holding and your fist. As the voice faded, the faint sound mechanisms moving could be heard before a fist came out of one of the pillars, shattering it. What was left in its place was a robot that looked like a mannequin, only this mannequin was meant to kill, not stand around and pose. The other pillars were the same, shattering and leaving behind a mannequin robot. As the teenager looked around him, he mentally counted the robots. Ten the teenager said to himself after counting all the robots. You have five minutes to defeat all ten robots. Now begin. With that voice's command, all the robots looked up before rushing the teenager.

The teenager snorted coldly. Child’s play, he said while aiming his pistol at the nearest robot. bang, the sound of one of the robot's heads being blown off could be heard as it went rolling on the ground.  Not wasting time, he moved his foot and jumped behind one of the other robots, kicking it right in the stomach and causing it to bump into another robot. Shaking his head, the teenager moved, landing behind two more robots before firing two more times, blowing off their heads. Three down, seven more to go, he thought as he looked up at a window with a smirk.

Hmm, this kid is really something. He treats these training exercises as if he is taking a stroll through the park.  Yes, you are right about that, but Compared to the others, he is no different. They are all the same. You both are correct, a deep voice said from behind the two men talking. Charman, they both said, turning around and standing up straight. The man nodded at them before speaking. As you both know, this is just the beginning of what we have in store for all of them. They will have to do things that even the toughest of people can’t do; they will have to do what would make veterans have nightmares. This is what makes him, the man said, pointing to the teenager in the arena and the rest different. They will change the world. They will rise to become the strongest of us. Welcome to Project Eclipse! He said, looking down at the teenager who, by now, had defeated all the robots and was just standing in the middle of the arena gazing up at them.

186 years later year 2845

Location infirmary

The sterile air in the lab felt unnaturally still, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. The lab was dim, save for the bright, ghostly blue glow from machines surrounding a series of beds lined up in two rows. The quiet was punctuated by the occasional soft clicks and murmurs from medics moving nearby, scanning readings on touchscreens and adjusting tubes connecting the beds to intricate machines.

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A faint rustling came from one bed as Eight blinked awake, his vision fuzzy. He groaned softly, squeezing his eyes shut against the harsh light, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

“Hey, Eight, you’re up. How are you feeling?” The voice was calm, but there was a note of relief in it.

Eight squinted, his head pounding, and his vision gradually adjusted. Blinking, he made out the face leaning over him. “Umm… where am I?” he asked, his voice a hoarse murmur. He turned his head, barely noticing the tubes running from his arm to the machine beside his bed.

“You’re in the infirmary,” the voice responded gently. “As are the rest of us.”

As his eyes adjusted, Eight’s gaze focused on the speaker. He squinted, a flicker of shock breaking through his haze. Standing beside him was a young man, about his own age, with black hair streaked with gold, eyes glowing with a metallic, almost surreal brightness.

“Three?!” Eight’s surprise was evident, his voice breaking into a hoarse rasp as he struggled to sit up. “What… what happened to you? Your hair, your eyes?”

Three shifted uncomfortably, glancing away before catching Eight’s gaze again. He opened his mouth to respond but stopped abruptly as Eight clutched his side, a pained groan escaping as a searing ache coursed through him.

“Don’t speak now,” Three said quickly, his tone firm but reassuring. “You’re still recovering from the implants.”

“Implants?” Eight’s brow furrowed, the fog clearing slightly as he absorbed the word. He could barely make sense of it, his mind racing through half-formed questions. “What implants?”

“Just… rest for now,” Three replied, his voice softer, though his expression remained unreadable. “I’ll explain everything when you’re better.”

Nodding slowly, Eight sank back into the pillow, his gaze drifting across the room. As he turned his head, he saw six other figures lying in similar beds, the soft blue glow from their monitors illuminating their faces. Each of them was hooked up to the same machines, tubes winding from their arms and temples. Their faces looked peaceful, almost unaware.

Trying to piece together his last memory, Eight’s mind flashed to a training room, the sound of gunfire echoing, then… nothing. He gritted his teeth, frustration mingling with a sense of dread. Whatever had happened, he was different now—changed. And from the look in Three’s new golden eyes, so had all of them.

 Days passed, each one blending into the next, as Eight lay in the infirmary, the sterile walls closing in around him. He watched helplessly as one by one, the six others slowly rose from their beds, stretching and shaking off their grogginess before leaving the room. The soft beeping of the monitors was a constant reminder of his solitude, amplifying his growing frustration.

“Why am I recovering so slowly?” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m not any weaker than the rest of them.” The irritation bubbled within him, twisting like a knot in his stomach as he realized he was the only one left.

In another room, two figures stood hunched over a sleek, black tablet, their voices urgent and low.

“Sir, the implants were successfully implanted,” one of them said, his brow furrowed with a mix of excitement and anxiety as he handed the tablet to the Chairman.

The Chairman, a tall man with an imposing presence, took the tablet and began scrolling through the data. His eyes flicked over the names, nodding in approval, until his expression darkened. When he noticed an “X” next to a few names.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. He looked up, fixing his gaze on Randy, who shifted uncomfortably under the Chairman’s intense scrutiny.

“Uh, sir, there were some… complications,” Randy stammered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Some subjects didn’t receive all the necessary tech during the procedure. Its seems that we didn’t have everything that we needed to do the process fully but by the time we noticed anything it was too late.

“Missing tech?” the Chairman interrupted, his voice rising in disbelief. “What do you mean, missing tech? We’ve invested too much into this program to have any setbacks!”

Randy’s hands trembled slightly as he fumbled with the tablet, trying to gather his thoughts. “I—I’m investigating it further. But it seems that we just didn’t have all the tech and materials we needed. And we didn’t realize it until we were already halfway done implanting the tech. The Chairman's eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and disappointment crossing his features. “See that you do. I want a list of all the items we need on my desk by tomorrow morning. We cannot afford any setbacks in this operation.

As Randy nodded fervently, the Chairman turned away, a storm brewing in his mind. Meanwhile, back in the infirmary, Eight continued to stare at the door, anxiety coiling in his chest as he wondered what was really happening outside and why he was still trapped in this place.  Oh, and don’t tell Eight about any of this. We can’t let this get out he said before leaving.