Mornings were a routine for Micah. They were not something to be disturbed or interrupted lest you be willing to face the OCD driven irritation that would spring forth from his otherwise usually stoic visage. Each action was taken with care and uncanny precision. Discipline was the code, and therefore everything in his world would adhere to it as he had since he could first understand the concept.<br/><br/>His eyes opened mere moments before the alarm clock's shrill wail as they had every morning for the past 20 years. Large red numbers blinked 5:30AM in their never ending cycle of temporal recollection leaving a feint glare across the right side of his face. For the briefest moment that feint red flash reminded him of something else; a different day, a different place, but the same red light monastically blinking away. That distant memory was the flash of an alarm though, not a clock. The sound was out of place as well. There was no sound that day. Not after the explosion that set the alarm off in the first place anyway.<br/><br/>"Colonel Micah Parker." A disembodied voice crackled through an invisible speaker breaking him from his melancholy thoughts. "You are to report to the infirmary at 0700 for your mandatory physical."<br/><br/>Grateful for the mental shake, he swung himself out of bed and shut off his alarm. His morning progressed like every other; basic PT and calisthenics, a nutrition shake, shower, shave, and finally a good teeth brushing. Exiting his small bathroom, he was surprised to see his phone blinking. He didn't typically receive any communications this early in the morning, so he could only imagine this was probably of some kind of importance. He threw his towel down onto the edge of his clothes basket and grabbed his phone.<br/><br/>From: Watcher<br/>Subject: Code 4B86-99X1 {Angels Down}<br/><br/>Priority target designated "Mantis" has made himself known. Exact location still remains unknown. Package arriving soon. Stay golden Ponyboy.<br/><br/>Shaw<br/><br/>Taking a long moment to scan the message, he came to the conclusion that he could deal with that later. As important as Priority Target Mantis was to dispatch with a sense of punctuality, today held a different set of challenges. Dr. Kesler awaited him. Nerves were tense within his chest as he pondered that meeting. Everything that he had heard of the man left Micah feeling… Uncomfortable, but his achievements could certainly not be denied. Kesler was, if nothing else, impressive.<br/><br/>At 0640 he stood in front of his door adjusting his freshly pressed dress uniform. A golden tag gleamed from his chest, Colonel Micah Parker clearly engraved in the metal, as well as tiers of ribbons that cascaded down the right half of his jacket. As he stood alone in his diminutive quarters, he suddenly seemed too powerful to be contained by its stone walls. Authority flowed from him. His discipline, his hard-won confidence and wisdom were as much a true part of him as his earthen brown eyes. With a click of his heel against the wooden floor he made his way to his physical. No reason to put it off and keep the good Dr. Kesler waiting.<br/><br/>---=<br/><br/>Swirling haze drifted through the ever-present void. It made sense; this was what people saw as they peered into his eyes. Why should the existence within his own subconscious be represented by anything different. Gavin drifted through the nothing just as he had become accustomed to doing over the strangely infinite eons of his mind. Time meant nothing in this place. Years. Minutes. They felt the same. This place simply was. It was as if time had ceased its oppressive rule over him and left him to his own mental reflections. There were times where it wasn't so peaceful , but now was a more pleasant experience.<br/><br/>Gavin drifted alone. The images of his last waking memory once again projected themselves across the vast expance before him. He had just gotten out of school. The usual hostile eyes watched him, but they had learned to keep their distance. Brazen autumn sunlight bore down on Los Angeles making it seem like just another day. Then, from nowhere, a flash of pain. His mind raced to find ways to protect himself, but the electrical current that pulsed through him kept his thoughts from focusing. Gavin saw black clad men in the mental projection that floated before him. One of them floated away only to come crashing down in a cracking heap of newly broken bones and bleeding organs. The mental image shifted perspective as the 16 year old version of Gavin turned to assess another threat, but there was no hope in that futile effort. The imposing figure of a hulking man loomed over him. The last flash of visual in the image was the sight of the large man's fist crashing into his temple. A dull sensation of pain came and went as he remembered it too clearly.<br/><br/>Then he was awake. Certainly he was still groggy from god only knows what they put in his veins, but he was awake. Gavin gripped the railing of the medical cot and pulled himself into a sitting position. Pain erupted through his head, creeping from the base of his skull deep into his temples. The still blurry cell seemed to fall from view as this shockwave of ache reached his eyes and brought him back down to an elbow. Though he had never experienced one himself, the feeling was much like that of a hangover. The drugs that flowed through his mind were beginning to drain out and it seemed that his grey matter wasn't going to deal with it in any way that could be considered "fun". After a few seconds of recovery, the pulsing dulled down to throbbing and he was able to sit up fully in his bed.<br/><br/>Slowly, he brought his legs over the edge and looked around the room. It was barren save for some medical equipment. Just gray walls looking in from all directions. The matching gray shirt and sweatpants he wore served to make him blend in, becoming just another piece of this cell. Fear began to flicker inside him as the situation began to come better into focus. He was actually awake. This wasn't a dream. He was conscious; that meant there was a job to do.<br/><br/>---=<br/><br/>The golden oak leaves were typically the thing that proved his rank beyond the shadow of a doubt, but the best security always asked for the full sweep. The men and women that Dr. Kesler had hired were most definitely seasoned and well trained, asking for credentials, retinal analysis, and even a small device to match his genetics to the genetic scans already on their records was employed for paranoid scrutiny. Finally managing to decipher that the colonel was not an imposter they let him pass into a top secret sector of the facility that few had ever walked in.<br/><br/>He descended a short metal staircase, finding himself in a room with a lone occupant. A tall, firm jawed, and very Aryan man sat with his back turned to him. Micah noted the way that this man carried himself like a soldier. It was something he shared and would have noticed in anyone. The way his shoulders were held straight. His perfect posture. It was the same kind of discipline that Colonel Parker was raised on. But, there was something else. Something darker lay draped around the man like a clear sheet of unease gently, so softly smothering the space around him.<br/><br/>Dr. Kesler turned around in his chair. For a silent moment their eyes met; Micah's soft, earthen spheres meeting the doctor's cold, impassive orbs of blue. If there had been anyone else in the room, they might have found the difference amusing, if not for the strange underlying tension. Standing, the good doctor smiled and asked "Name, please?"<br/><br/>Standing at attention, Micah responded with the calm neutrality of a seasoned soldier. "Colonel Micah Parker, sir, reporting as ordered."