The Olympus Project

Recently I have become fascinated by Ancient Greece, and in particular, Sparta. You should see at least one reference, if not more in this prologue. I realise this won't be the best, but that is because I cannot at this point give too many detials, or spread anything out.

Prologue:

Blackness. Blackness eternal. Forever, living in darkness. But, without warning, a flash. A flash that illuminates all, and marks the beginning of a new epoch.

Squeak! With a noise like the squeak of a mouse, amplified several hundred times, the tank lid opened. Looking up, a pair of eyes floating in a mysterious liquid, witnessed two faces. Suddenly, there was a noise, a deafening noise. “We expect great things from you, Ares X/094. Great things.” The words spoken were all gibberish to the eyes. With that, the pair of eyes were blocked by a white powder; an unknown catalyst. It seemingly vanished as the all too eager pores absorbed the drug. In seconds, the entire body had absorbed it. Still the eyes stared, even as the lid slammed shut.


Emergence. Emergence from confinement, into the real world. With one unsteady step after another, the entity came into being, and into knowing.

CRACK! With a loud cracking noise, the rifle went off. A quiet thud followed almost instantaneously. By now, Ares X/094, or Nine-Four, had been out of his tank for nearly two decades. For ten years, ever since he was eight, Nine-Four had been trained in the craft of war. Every day of the week, three times a week, for every month of every year, he was fed the anonymous catalyst. Except for nine hours of sleep, and one hour of recreation and eating, they were being trained for war They were supersoldiers, feared by all. They the elite, the best of the best. Of course, that meant they were always in high danger zones; suicide missions if you will. At the age of twenty, all Ares experiments are on an ‘initiation’ to kill an enemy soldier. The soldier will be armed with padding to soften strikes and a small nine-millimeter pistol for protection. You are to creep on the soldier and kill him with naught but your hands. Then, if you wish to show your prowess and ability, you must rip the head from the corpse. If when you bring the head back, you are either a member or a leader of the Ares force, and one of the revered Olympians. CRACK!

Freedom. Release from the final bonds, into the world. But Mother Earth and her children do not love you. They hate you. With the entirety of their beings.

MOAR!

Nice and well written Nimrodel. I think you have a real talent. I look forward to reading this story. It is very interesting. Congrats

Really?
Interesting . . .
I will develop the first chapter tomorrow, as I cannot make another one within twenty minutes.

You, are a great writer, and definatly continue this story, and am very interested and excited to hear more.

This part of chapter one should have you wondering what time period this is, what the technology is like, and what the Ares' look like.




"Nine-Four, this is Six-Three. In position, I have a clear shot on the guard."
"Okay Six-Three, but be quiet about it."
Six-Three was a notoriously poor sport. It was some deficiency in his catalyst. Yes, you heard correct. His catalyst. Not every Ares experiment recieves the same catalyst. However, they are put in to groups sharing the same catalysts. The catalyst Nie-Four had received had given him the same fundamental upgrades as all other Ares' had, but this boosted his charisma and brain power to enable him to be a commander. Six-Three was a different story; he had boosted strength and accuracy. The negative effect of this, however, was extreme competitiveness and brutality. The other member of the three-man squad was One-Ten-Six, an Ares with boosted speed and agility. As such, he was the scout.

With a muffled crack! through the headset, Nine-Four could tell that Six-Three had shot the guard. An added bonus to this was that he didn't yell and scream hist taunts, which drew everything for miles.

"One-Ten-Six, report in."
"Yessir. There are four guards in a smal camp past the lone guard that Six-

Three shot. Howevern, no one seems alerted to us."
"Thank you One-Ten-Six."
Moving as silently as possible through the damp undergrowth of Cameroon, the Ares trudged warily. It was nighttime, and dreary in the African rainforest. After a minute or two, Nine-Four reached Ten-One-Six. He was squatting, peering through his helmet-binoculars at the four guards.
"I heard you coming a mile off, Commander."
"I'll bet you did, Sixteen."
"It's ONE-Sixteen."
"It matters."

They continued to stare at the heedless guards, who were completely unaware of their presence; of their impending deaths.
"Get over here, Sixty."
"Yessir."
The two Ares' waited for Six-Three to regroup with them. Mosquito's and other annoying insects flew and buzzed all around them. It was all they could do not to slap at themselves.
"I have NOT been in a crappier mission zone since Vietnam." said One-Sixteen.
"Please, that assassination in Cuba was a lot worse. Remember? The plane was shot down, and you lost most of your leg."
"Yeah, but that got rebuilt. I like mechanical legs better than actual ones.
"Hey guys, I'm here." said Six-Three.

With that announcement, Nine-Four began directing his troops.
"Okay Sixty, I want you a bit to the east of the camp. You see that roasting rat-thing? Position yourself so you're facing its rump. One-Sixteen, stay right there and be prepared with your knife."

After giving directions, Nine-Four trekked south and east, to the upper left of the encampment. Preparing his small submachine gun, Nine-Four whispered, "Go." And with the order, one guard's head blew in half. One more fell with a knife in his throat, and the final two fell with bullets in their heads. Simultaneous take-downs were the specialty of this squad, and a solid example was laying before them in the small clearing. Quickly, wordlessly, the three commando's slid the guard's bodies into the foliage, doused the fire, and tossed away the roasted rat.



I have part two ready now, I just need a few comments first.

Nice Chapter Nim. This is rather interesting. I am going to guess they are cyborgs or something. Nice nonetheless.

This is some pretty crazy stuff! I love it. MOAR NAO!!!

Niiice
that's pretty cewl

This is kind of a short part. It kind of gives you an idea of the technology, albeit a small one.


The three Ares’ stared in awe at massive wall before them.
“We were we told this was a moderately sized encampment. This is a fortress!” complained Sixty.
“Suck it up. Scale the wall on the left side, where the guard house is at.” directed Nine-Four.
“We want to go towards the enemy?” asked One-Sixteen.
“Yes, because they are all on patrol. Do any of you detect one person in that guard house?” said Nine-Four.
In agreement, the other two nodded their heads. Hiking through the humid countryside was a drag, and it felt as though they were at times trying to push through plastic wrap, even cellophane at points.
“It reeks out here. It is STANKY!” whined Sixty.
“That’s just your own breath. You know these helmets have poor excretion capabilities.” stated One-Sixteen, matter-of-factly.
“Would both of you just shut up?” growled Nine-Four as he shot the grappling cable from his submachine gun. With two more contained pops! the other men were atop the guard house. Wordlessly, Six-Three set up his sniper rifle while One-Sixteen slid down the other side to monitor base activities and layout. Nine-Four embarked out to explore the guard house and wall. He landed with a soft clack on the rusting metal surface of the wall and explored the guard house. There was only one guard inside, and he was sleeping. Quietly, Nine-Four crept over to the guard, his feet lightly tapping the metal floor beneath him. As fast a snake, Nine-Four had snapped the man’s neck. He tried to make it look a bit more natural, like the man was sleeping. With the guard house secure, he again crept out.

The gatehouse was a bit more guarded. It had two stories, and the second story was more of a catwalk. Those on the second story could easily see down on to the first floor. As it was, there were three guards on the catwalk, and two more monitoring the gates. Shooting at the guards, even with his silencer on, would alert them all when there were a few thumps, a sliding noise, and thud as the body slid off the rail and landed on the first floor. So, Nine-Four snuck along the dark walls, hugging against them. The stairs were all the way across this sparse room. The floor was painted white. For that matter, so was the entire interior of the gatehouse. There were bright lights hanging from a rail on the ceiling, shining down on the first floor. There was a console station centered in the room, pressed up against one of the three floor-to-ceiling windows. There was no easy way to get past this, as the nearly all the gatehouse was bathed in near-blinding light. Huddling against the ice-cold wall, Nine-Four managed to get close to the stairs on the other side of the gatehouse. Quickly, he rolled over to the foot of the stairs. Keeping his momentum, he went as quickly as he could without making much noise. As he reached the top, he drew his weapon. The trusty SO-A2 was made specifically for covert use by the Ares projects, hence SO-A (Special Operations-Ares). The ‘2’ subtitle was because it was the second version. It had the power of an assault rifle, namely the SU-21, with the accuracy of a sniper rifle. There was a downside to this however, as this weapon had a large recoil for its weapon-type. He took aim and opened fire. It sounded like a little kid trying to whistle; just the sound of exhaling. The three soldiers fell over. But it was just Nine-Fours’ luck, as one body just as he predicted, fell over the railing. THUNK! the two soldier’s whipped around. They tried to spot the source of the disturbance. When they did, they peered up at the catwalk. Both of them felt something puncturing them, accompanied by a dull thud. With soft clapping sounds, they fell to the floor.
“This is Nine-Four. The wall is clear.”


I should have part four up soon as I'm close to finishing it.