Prologue

Conflict has been the one constant in human history. Whether against itself, nature, or the unknown, mankind has always waged war. With each new enemy came new weapons, each more destructive than the last. Nations, desperate for security, built armies and stockpiled arms, setting off an endless cycle of escalation. The stronger one side grew, the more its rivals sought to outmatch it. The result was never peace—only ruin.

In the end, the arms race didn’t just bankrupt nations; it broke them. Resources were funneled into war machines while the people starved. Protests erupted. Riots turned to revolutions. Without workers, economies crumbled. Governments collapsed. And when the dust settled, the only ones left standing were those strong enough to take control.

My country was one of those that fell. Its leaders, desperate to hold on to power, made one final, monstrous decision. Instead of listening to the people, they turned their latest weapons against them. The Exo-Suits—unstoppable machines designed for war—were unleashed on the protesters. Hundreds were slaughtered. Among them were my parents. I was eight years old.

I was left alone in the ruins of my city, until I was placed in an orphanage. But no place felt like home. The world had already taught me that safety was an illusion. Still, I found something close to it in a boy named Harold—a protector, a brother in all but blood. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that things might finally settle. But peace is a lie.

The orphanage fell into chaos. The caretakers abandoned us. Some children scattered into the streets to fend for themselves, but Harold and I stayed behind with a few others. We had nowhere else to go. Days passed. Then, the soldiers came.

They didn’t wear the uniforms of our fallen nation. They weren’t here to save us. They were remnants of what was left—a dying military force desperately clinging to power. They took us. They took all of us.

At first, they didn’t know what to do with us. Then, they found a purpose. Deep underground, in a hidden bunker, we joined dozens of other children. The older ones were examined, tested, and sorted. Harold was placed in a special category—an Eccentric Unit (EU). That was the last I saw of him.

Years passed before I finally understood what this place truly was. It was not a refuge. It was a lab, a graveyard disguised as a second chance. The scientists weren’t interested in saving what was left of our nation. They were trying to build something new—something stronger. They sought to create soldiers beyond human limits, blending flesh with metal, rewriting biology itself. Their success rate? Less than 20%. The rest of the test subjects died, one after another, discarded like failed experiments.

On my fifteenth birthday, it was my turn. I didn’t get a choice. I was dragged into a sterile room, stripped down to a subject, reduced to numbers and data. They took my blood, my bone marrow, my skin. They measured my pain threshold with drills and fire. They pumped me full of adrenaline to keep me awake for every second of it.

By the end, I could barely stand. That was when I met Carol.

She wasn’t like the other scientists. She was unpredictable Precise. Detached. She examined me like I was a specimen under glass and then assigned me my designation.

From that day forward, my name no longer mattered. I was no longer a person. I was S2-SF.

Then came the training. The enhancements. The conditioning. Carol had plans for me—plans that set me apart from the others. Unlike the failed experiments, I wasn’t just another subject. I was chosen. I was given something new—something they called the Invicta Serum. A formula designed to push me beyond human limits. To break me and rebuild me into something unstoppable.

As Carol’s favorite, I had privileges others didn’t. I had access to resources, to knowledge. But it didn’t matter. Eventually i met my squad—the other successes. Each of them had survived their own horrors. Each of them had been reforged into something different. Something lethal.

Strike Squad 2:S2-SF – Designated leader.H2-EU (Havoc) – Second in command. Tank. Technician.R2-EU (Raven) – Scout. Non-attack specialist.P2-EU (Pulse) – Tracker. Light Attacker.B2-EU (Blackout) – Sniper. Heavy Cover Fire.Fallo Units – Normal foot soldiers, the ones who failed enhancement but were still deemed useful cannon fodder.Unit Profiles:

S2-SF:

Strengths: Carries vials of Invicta Serum, allowing temporary superhuman enhancements.Weaknesses: Unknown.

H2-EU:

Strengths: Cybernetic arm used for combat, hacking, and daily use. Heavy armor.Weaknesses: Hacking causes severe brain strain.

R2-EU:

Strengths: Enhanced sight, X-ray vision, advanced hearing.Weaknesses: Highly sensitive to bright lights and loud noises. PTSD from prior conditioning.

P2-EU:

Strengths: High-speed movement, robotic legs, expert tracker.Weaknesses: Weak against water exposure, her legs run on battery.

B2-EU:

Strengths: Robotic eye and hand with auto-lock targeting for sniping. Enhanced vision.Weaknesses: Completely vulnerable in close combat. After repeated use, auto-lock causes temporary blindness, potentially leading to permanent damage.

Fallo Units (Failed Units):

Enhanced slightly beyond normal humans but deemed unsuitable for full modifications. Used as disposable soldiers.

We were weapons. Nothing more.

I didn’t know if Harold was still alive. I didn’t know if he had been modified like us. But I did know one thing: peace had never been an option. And in the end, only the strongest would survive. And none would be given freedom.