[ WP ] After nearly a quarter century , WWIII is over . Eschewing nuclear weapons , the opposing nations choose to create genetically and cybernetically enhanced super soldiers . As an ex-Marine , you 've been drafted to locate and detain those soldiers who refused to have their implants removed .

`` Five Hundred and Fifty-Five Meters.'' 
 
 
 `` What was that, Master Sergeant?'' the aircraft crew chief said, looking at me. 
 
 
 `` Nothing, just going over the mission,'' I mumbled back. He would n't understand. 
 
 
 *Four Hundred and Sixty Three. * 
 
 
 `` How many on the list today?'' the young face said, brimming with naiveté. `` They just tell the heli crew that there's going to be a drop, but no details,'' he added, as if that warranted asking for classified information. 
 
 
 `` It's... more than one,'' I offered. I turned away, only slightly, to give the social cue that I did not wish to speak on this subject. My body language was heartily ignored. 
 
 
 `` Is it true that they're totally emotionless? I heard their brains were lobotomized so they wo n't get PTSD and shit.'' 
 
 
 This kid must have been sheltered growing up. Maybe he was Canadian, and did n't live through things like the Burning of the Great Plains or news every week that another city was destroyed. It was so devastating the first time... Seattle, Jewel of the Northwest, they called it. An outpouring of support, donations, volunteers. Then it was Sacramento, and they made `` California Strong'' T-Shirts. Then it was Vegas, and it was `` WE are Nevada'' on every goddamned bumper. 
 
 
 But after San Diego, San Francisco and Fresno happened in one day, there were no more t-shirts. Or stickers. Or goddamned small talk. This kid obviously did n't know or appreciate that. I looked at him up and down, noting his relaxed and unguarded demeanor. He was a U.S. Marine and still a fucking civilian. 
 
 
 `` They are n't emotionless, kid. They are just built to do bigger things than the average guy,'' I said. `` It just takes... more to rattle one of us.'' *Three Hundred. * 
 
 
 The kid's mouth sort of sprang shut. 
 
 
 `` WHa-'' he hesitated. `` You're one of THEM? Did I hear that right Sarge?'' 
 
 
 I got pretty tired of that conversation right then. 
 
 
 `` It's MASTER SERGEANT to you, and yes, I was modified in the same program as the AD-GENs. Now open my ramp, corporal.'' 
 
 
 The young soldier glanced at the window next to him and quickly keyed the helicopter ramp controls, causing the ramp to lower. 
 
 
 I walked onto the ramp, feeling the wind whip around the sides of the vehicle, and I watched the insertion area below grow closer, then halt. A green light turned on behind me. 
 
 
 `` Suh, uh, Sergeant, uhm, MASTER Sergeant, we're not landed yet, unless you're gon na'chute in? Let me grab you one!'' the kid yelled over the sound of the rotors. 
 
 
 `` Do n't need it, corporal. Just tell the pilot when I'm off,'' I said, eyeing the barren husks of destroyed buildings below, mapping out the likely hiding spots in my mind. 
 
 
 `` But Sergeant, that's almost-'' 
 
 
 `` Ninety-seven meters.'' 
 
 
 With that, I sprang off the ramp, having picked my landing location. I had to admit, I looked back for just a moment to see the young man's face as he watched this relic of the past throw himself into the shadows below. 
 
 
 His eyes were n't impressed, nor his face smiling. His visage was one of horror. 
 
 
 For he had never seen a man with the spirit of Death built into his very flesh. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 EDIT: Thanks for the gold. The story was my pleasure, thanks for the prompt and to everyone who read this. Time for me to sit back and enjoy a tall glass of Reddit success.
