Prologue - Rebirth

                                    

                                          

                          
Dark. Cold. Lifeless. That was him.
                          

                          
Dormant. Sleeping. Waiting. That was him.
                          

                          
A man in a white coat was standing before a limp, useless suspended human form. This body was hanging, motionless, in a stasis tube filled with clear green liquid. Though the being was unmoving, it boasted a sinister energy, the likes of which had never been felt before.
                          

                          
The scientist looked right at the frozen face and pushed his glasses up along the ridge of his nose. A small smirk crept across his face, as the eerie slime in the container began to bubble, ever so slightly.
                          

                          
Five other men were standing in the shadows, well away from the stasis tube. They were quiet with plans of evil and tyranny, and not a single one of them cared about their status as fleeing criminals. This scientist before them, with jet-black hair and a sweaty face, was leading them to everything they could ever need.
                          

                          
Around the barely-lit room, there were monitors with blinking lights, which made no sound. Even the workers at the machines dare not utter a single word. The only noise came from the low hum of the central chamber, where the suspended body hung in its prison. Next to the tube was a single metal table, whose only purpose was to hold a single weapon. A red sword, filled with the beautiful stench of death, was lying there, as motionless as all beings in the room. Three markings were etched down its spine, drained of colour, yet the sharp edges of the blade shone in the unsettling green beams of light.
                          

                          

                          

                          
The body in the stasis tube. Pain. Suffering. Death. That was him.
                          

                          
That was him and all that he stood for, all wrapped up in one bubbling cauldron of hell. The face was not living, and the black hairs swayed ever so slowly in the slime. Arched slightly forward, with drooping arms and sagging legs, this 'person' was not a man. Neither was he a child. This being was an abomination. The body had been pieced together unnaturally. This 'thing' had never been born, yet it was awakening. In the stasis pod, a series of limp, transparent wires led into the head, arms, legs, hands and feet of the body. To the limbs flowed an unnatural, burning blood-like substance, infused with flecks of blue. To the head, and to the brain, a deep, dark, purple liquid trickled.
                          

                          
All of the wires connected to the body's limbs stopped transferring their concoctions. As the final, murky droplet of purple passed into the brain, the scientist in front of the tube laughed slowly, enjoying every moment. He signalled, and another man pulled a switch. The wires detached from the being, retracting into the roof of the tube. The only thing that separated the man from this 'thing' was a cover of glass and a tomb of green goo, and he loved it. He stared long and hard at the monster he had created, and licked his lips, spittle lining his tongue like venom.
                          

                          
“Men...” He said at last, speaking to his workers and the five criminals in the shadows. He raised his arms to the dark roof and cackled. “It is done! I have achieved the impossible...”
                          

                          

                          

                          
A single red button was located on the glass of the tube, right in front of the chest of the body. The green liquid inside was now bubbling slightly faster, beginning to froth near the top. The man was faced with such a powerful being, and even though it was still dead, he began to shake with fear. But it was his fear that forced his adrenaline, and the man laughed once more with a reaching hand.