NOTE- I made this because I am extremely bored, and thought eh, why the hell not make a life story for 527. (It's super interesting I think)
Michael Neill walked out of the trainstation into the cool fall air. This was day one for him in City 18, and this was only the beginning for him. He walked birskly down the street, glancing at an 04 beating the living shit out of a citizen. Everyday stuff. Michael wasn't one for making friends. He was a college dropout, couldn't give two shits, and looked like a living nightmare. Malnourished. Depressed. A normal citizen.
Days passed, and Michael still knew nobody within the city. The person he knew best was probably a man who came up to him one day. He looked diferrent. He said his name was, "Ghost." He sounded like he was in a hurry, and quickly asked Michael if he needed a gun... a gun... Michael, without hesitation, nodded, and the man tossed a gun into his hands, a 9mm USP Match pistol. Michael started digging around for tokens, but the man said it was free, and ran back into D2. Michael was amazed, but he knew the man was only giving it to him to get it out of his own hands. To keep himself from being amputated.
A week or so passed. And one day he was sitting around the trainstation. "Hey." A voice rang out in the empty station, "The names Jordan, you?" Michael just stared, why should he care that this asshole was named Jordan? "I'm Michael. Neill." Jordan sat next to him on the bench, tossing his empty suitcase aside. They spent a long time talking. Jordan was from Israel, and had no family except for his son, who was presumed to be dead.
The duo left the station, they started jogging, as no CP's were around. But out of the blue, a recruit chased them down, "Wall. Now." Instead of the regular beating, they were searched for some reason.
"Sir, we got a pistol on this one..." Jordan looked over at Michael, nearly fainting. "I swear.. I-I didn't..." Michael started sputtering gibberish, but it was no use. Michael was sent into the Nexus, on the verge of going insane. He was thrown away in a cell, and thank god for the stupid units at the time, because henot killed. He exited the nexus later, bloodied, and morale at an all time low. "Hey..." said Jordan, who was sitting on a bench in the plaza. "Hi..." Muttered Michael. From then on, the two were ALWAYS together. The two were like brothers. Family.
They found their way into D2, and stupidly pooled their money to buy another gun. A pistol once again. They met up with a girl named 'Sky Peirson' She and her friends, including Michael and Jordan, would make a small rebel cell within D2. They had no attacks, but they hated the CP, and were armed. Enough to get them killed. Michael one day turned in his pistol, to a female unit... he could never remember the Unit number...
But she didn't tell her superiors, she just took it and walked away. Michael then sent in a CCA application, hoping to get in just for the status. But then one day, a man in the shadows came out to Michael, "Hey, I'm a blackmarket dealer... want some shit?" Michael gripped his reuest device, "Like what?" The man smirked, pulling out a request device, "I got a man here across the plaza trying to buy blackmarket items from me." The two were tied and thrown into interrogation.
Michael glared at the man for hours, while explaining to the CP that he was in fact trying to request the CP on him. They didn't believe him. They were going to detain him when suddenly, "But I turned in a pistol a few days ago!" The CP stopped, backing away from him. "He radioed in. "Sir, we have a civi here who had Level 1 contraband, orders?" Michael's heart stopped. He had butterflies in his stomach. He didn't know what to say. He was dragged into a big empty room, which he would find out later to be the training room. The 01 cocked his Mp7, and the other unit cocked their shotgun, The 01 said, "Okay unit... this is your practie. We are going to aim, and on go, fire on this poor civi." Michael sighed, "I can tell you about the rebels!" But it was no use. He just heard gunshots, and it all went white.
He didn't know what happened, but he soon found himself as CCA.C18.UNIFORM-Rct.527
He loved his position. He felt invincible. He beat citizens, ate well, and grew stronger and stronger every day. Jordan still talked to Michael, but now called him 527. The two still loved eacother deeply, like brothers.
Then there was a change one day. While in stasis, 527 found himself being transferred to C45, in russia. He was then an 04 for the ADRENALINE squadron. He loved his power over the citizens. Days passed, and one day, when he came out of astsis, he approached Rodie Burn, Jordans best friend. "Wheres Jordan?" 527 demanded. "He... he got amputated by 069 yesterday..." 527 stopped, and walked away. He found a safe spot with Rodie to take off his mask, and openly cry. What Rodie saw a pake white face, with whiskers, 527 had the deepest blue eyes, and light brown hair. Rodie cried with him. It would be the last time he cried, and the last time 527 cried.
He was promoted to 03 the next day, and He noticed Rodie walking down the street, "Hey Rodie." 527 mutterred. "Huh... me?" Rodie said, "Yes you, Rodie, what's wrong?" Rodie looked at him funny. "Do I KNOW you?" Rodie demanded, "Yes you do, what happened?" 527 asked, agressively, "I donno. I just... I don't know..." He said. "Okay. you are Rodie Burn, this is city 18, you are RODIE BURN." 527 told Rodie. "Oh... Okay..." 527 Knew Rodie had been brainwashed. He was then amputated a short time later. 527 was out of friends. Temporarily. "Hey have you seen this guy?" 527 noticed a citizen walking along the street, picture in hand. "Give me that, you moron." 527 stared at the picture. It was Jordan. He felt the butterflies again. "Who are you, citizen?" He demanded. "Tommy Rodrigez, sir!" the kid yelped. He was about in his twenties, around 6'1, and definitely Israeli. "Come with me." 527 explained that Jordan was dead. He felt the butterflies, and felt like crying. But he didn't. He was becoming more and more transhuman.
More time passed. 527 had ranked up to 01. He had a few amputations under his belt, and had won a gunfight with a rebel, and had taken out a few exogens. He was a true CP now. He was proud. He grew closer and closer to Tommy, and became farther and farther from him at the same time. The SeC of the city was almost always in stasis. People knew he had to be replaced. And who else but 602. The NOVA Dvl. 527's DvL. 509, then OfC, was promoted to DvL. 527 was thrown into the OfC position, and he loved it. As much as he could at least, for he had no emotion, and no care. He kiled citizens like it was a bug. That's what citizens were. Bugs. If they started stinging people, they were smushed. Simple as that.
Through all this time, 527 had a picture of Jordan in his vest. He forgot about it. It was only a few months he was a CP, but Jordan was always there with him. And no matter what happened, he always would be. 527 was basically a full transhuman now. He did what was necessary, even if it meant hurting people. While in C18, due to exogen breahces in C45, he got into multiple fist fights with citizens. One even ending in him removing the foot of a citizen. One citizen who stood out to him particularly was a homeless old man, who 527 thought was filthy. He insulted the man, and 527 was called a monster, a killer. 527 agreed with the man. " You are a disgysting killer, and you have no soul!" The old man sputtered. 527 nodded, throwing a punch into his face. A crowd gatherred around. They watched as the man insulted 527, and as he beat the living shit out of this old man. 527 dragged him into the Nexus. The two talked. 527 told his story. He was a monster for a reason. And he explained to the man amputation was in order for him. The old man cried inside treatment. "Fear is a useless emotion." 527 said. "Fear leads to paranoia. Paranoia leads to instability. Instability leads to amputation." 527 said. The old man stopped crying. He stared at 527. "Fear is a good thing. Fear keeps citizens in line, and keeps you guys on top." The old man said. "You are going to hell." The old man said with his final breath. "See you there." 527 said, glaring at him under his mask. 527 drew his 9mm pistol, it felt familiar in his hands, he put it to the mans head. He slowly pulled the trigger. 527 was a sadistic monster.
Garry's Mod
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