February 20th, 1984 “Congratulations, Ms. Neill!”
Several people peered into the doctor’s arms to admire the new child. He began to wipe the child gently with a towel, as Ms. Neill began to speak, “Can I hold him?”
The doctor slowly placed the wrapped infant into her arms, “Michael,” she said, softly.
Michael Neill was born into a lower middle-class family, in Boston, Massachusetts. His father was an Irish immigrant, who left his home when he was very young to start his own life. His mother was born into the same circumstances as himself. It was a cold February morning when Michael Neill began his life, and no-one could have guessed how important his life would be.
May 10th, 1998 By this time, Michael had gone through years of school, and he was now 14 years of age. He went to Boston Latin Academy, in Boston. He was a relatively smart boy, except the occasional D in math or latin. Being the scrawny and skinny boy he was, it was only normal he was picked on. The thing most kids didn’t know, except for his closest friends- Michael Neill had a raging temper, that would build and build until it would explode- which happened very rarely.
On a warm May morning, a boy decided it would be funny to start pushing Michael around, about 4 other kids joined in, and Michael was tossed around the circle like a ragdoll. His temper was building, he was on the verge of crying, when suddenly, it exploded. The ring-leader was about to get the worst of it, “Stop!” He cried out, he kept on being pushed, “Stop!” He yelled again. Boom. “I said f******stop, you fat f****** piece of shit! Nobody at this school likes you, f****** douche!” The pushing stopped, and Michael drove his fist into the bully’s nose. His lips began to quiver, as Michael pushed his way out of the circle to his locker down the hall. All the boys and girls in the hallway stared, they stared at Michael and the bully for a few moments, and continued their day.
October 21st, 2002 Michael Neill had begun college, and all looked well for his future. He was interested in joining a career based around law enforcement, whether it be a lawyer, or joining the police force. He planned on becoming one of the best.
September 8th, 2008 Michael had taken a path he hadn’t expected. He went through a year of college with doubts about becoming a lawyer. He wanted to change his path, and because of influence from his friends and family, took a medical route instead. He was average within his class, and showed a hunger for learning. He would eventually finish college, without hope of finding anyone looking for someone in his position, so he thought he would wait. He would wait until 2015, despite all the pushing from his family to get a career.
February 17th, 2015 It had started. The Combine invasion was underway. People were either running around the city, or staring up at the combine ships in the sky. Michael and his roommate were hiding in their apartment when they burst in and repeatedly hit them until they fell unconscious. Michael woke up in a train, he sat there, looking around at the people surrounding him, some were either passed out, or sitting there silent, wondering what the hell was happening.
When they arrived at their destination, men in military-like suits with gasmasks were handing blue jumpsuits to those stepping off the train. Speakers were blaring the message, “Welcome to C18, or City eighteen. Please wear your citizen jumpsuit at ALL times, and listen to the following rules- “Michael listened closely at the rules. They were absurd, some banned simple things, such as, “Running or jogging of any kind IS PROHIBITTED!” Michael listened to the rules, thinking them through, and how unfair and stupid they were.
January 21st, 2016 Michael had been in the city for almost a year. He knew how the cities worked, and got set up in an apartment. One man, “Ghost” he called himself, had even given Michael a gun- for free, it was a USP Match 9mm.
On a gray January afternoon, Michael was sitting in the trainstation, alone. Except for a single man, sitting on a suitcase in the corner of the station. The two sat silently, and suddenly, the man stood up, and approached Michael, “The name’s Jordan, You?”
Michael stared for a moment, and then replied, “Michael. Neill. You new?”
He nodded. Michael and Jordan talked for an hour or so, about the rules, the CP, the Combine, and all things of that matter. Michael stood, and motioned for Jordan to follow. The two jogged down the street, when suddenly, a CP stepped from the corner, stunstick lit. “Oh great. A slap-happy f****in’ recruit.” Michael though. Jordan froze, Michael was relaxed. “Wall!”
Michael obeyed, suddenly remembering his gun. He stood, against the wall, stunned, as the recruit patted him down. “My god…” the CP muttered through his mask. He turned, and spoke inaudibly in his mask. He turned back to Michael, holding the pistol with two fingers like it was covered in acid. He slid the pistol into an empty holster, and whacked at Michael until he fell unconscious. He was dragged away. He woke up in a bland room with only a table and a chair. A CP asked questions that Michael could not or would not answer. He was beaten unconscious again, and woke up on a bench, next to Jordan. He felt his face, he was covered in bruises and felt dry blood all over his head.
January 24th, 2016 “175 tokens?”
“Yeah.”
“Kind of expensive, don’t yeh think?”
“Look, do you want it or not?”
Michael handed the man 175 tokens, he dropped a pistol on the ground and rushed out, Jordan looked at him as he stormed out, and Michael picked up the pistol, cocking it, “This thing is badass!” Michael exclaimed.
“Damn right. And you only put me in debt by 20 tokens!” muttered Jordan, a bit annoyed.
The two walked out of the un-owned apartment quickly, and ran up the stairs onto the D2 bridge, they jogged across and ran into a young looking, pretty woman. “Whoa hey! Sorry.” Said Michael, Jordan looked her up and down, nervously.
“Eh… hi… do you guys happen to be uhm…” She got between Michael’s and Jordan’s heads. “Are you resistance members?” She asked quickly
Jordan and Michael looked at eachother, and Michael looked back to her and said, “No. But we are armed.” Michael replied as he lifted up his shirt, showing the scratched up pistol in his waistband.
The girl’s mouth dropped open, and the trio walked briskly to the pizza shop, about a block away. When they got in, they were greeted by 2 malnourished looking men. The 5 of them talked for a short time, and discussed the need for weapons. When they finished, Jordan and Michael snuck back into District one, and entered Jordan’s apartment. Michael had gotten into a close call, he was jogging out of an alleyway when a CP spotted him, he was beaten, and luckily his pistol was not found.
Because of that, Michael turned his pistol into a GRID unit, which was then known as GEAR. When he did, the unit looked at him, and shooed him away. The next morning, Michael met a man hiding behind a vending machine. The man offered him black market. Michael knew better, Michael asked what he was selling, as he gripped his request device. The man suddenly called out to the nearby CPs that Michael was selling black market, Michael went up to them, and tried to explain his case, but it was no use. He, along with the other citizen, was dragged into the interrogation room. Questions were asked, but Michael could not answer them.
Michael was being tortured, he told the CP that he turned in a pistol, and the CP stopped. He radioed something, as he left the room, and returned moments later, with a higher ranking unit. He was dragged into the training room, and set up against the wall. This wouldn’t turn out well. The 01 counted down, when he reached one, he yelled fire. Michael felt a burning sensation on his lower back, twice, he had felt it hit. He had been shot twice in the lower back, and then fell limp.
The day before Michael was to be amputated, he had turned in his CCA application.
January 27th, 2016 Michael didn’t know what happened the day before, but he didn’t question it. He had survived, and for some reason, was kept alive. He put on his Civil Protection uniform, and was guided into the room was he previously shot in, the blood on the wall was gone. A unit went through radio commands, verdicts, etiquette, and a few basic training subjects. He was patrolling by the next day.
February 20th, 2016 Michael could not have asked for a better birthday present. He was patrolling one day, when a heavily armed anti-citizen was called in within the 45th apartments. About 2 weeks before, all the CCA units and citizens were transferred over to City 45. Michael- now known as CCA.C45.NOVA-04.527, was patrolling on a daily basis.
527 rushed to the 45th, all the citizens were in the lobby, being guarded by multiple units, one of which was 040, the future APEX DVL- he was then an UNASSIGNED 03. Units were shot down as the man was hunted through the building, the higher ranking units got shot down first, as the lower ranking units rushed up the stairs. Finally, It came to the fact that the 04’s and 03’s would have to go up and attempt to take this anti-citizen down.
040 led the charge upstairs, the group consisted of about 4 units, 527 included. On the third floor, they met him, bullets sped past them in the hallway, shotgun shells peppered 527, the small pellets did little damage on his armor. The 4 units fired shot after shot from their near useless pistols, when the anti-citizens peeked his out from behind the wall, 527 fired, the bullet took him down. 527 felt as if he was on top of the world.
February 24th, 2016 527 peered up and down the streets, searching for Jordan, or Rodie, who was also 527’s very good friend. Suddenly, 527 spotted Rodie, dragging himself along the sidewalk, he looked upset. 527 took Rodie to a private shadowy spot, where they could speak. “Where is Jordan? I need to talk to him about something important.” 527 asked, Rodie looked at his feet, sniffling, “Jordan… 069… 069 killed Jordan…” Rodie murmured.
527 froze for a few minutes, he slowly took off his faceplate and wept. He cried for at least an hour. Jordan was 527’s only friend, besides Rodie. Rodie was all 527 had left, and a few days later, 527 would be alone, for Rodie would be brainwashed, and killed.
527 was alone. All alone. Until Tommy Rodrigez, Jordan’s son had arrived, in search of his father. Tommy arrived in the city the day after Jordan died. 527 explained to him what Rodie has explained to him. Tommy and 527 cried together.
It would be the last time 527 cried in the rest of his short life.
June 2nd, 2016 527 was now Officer of NOVA. He was high command. He was in charge. Eventually 509 would become Commander, the SeC’s second in command, and 117 would return from very long term stasis to lead NOVA. But before this, 527 was transformed into a horrible monster.
May 23rd, 2016 (Back a little bit.) “Filthy civi!” Barked 527, at a homeless citizen
“I-I” He coughed, “I have n-no other choice!” pleaded the citizen
“Stand up! Now!” shouted 527
The man slowly stood, using the wall to balance himself. The citizen was older than most, maybe about 50 or 60. He had ripped clothes, he was missing shoes, and he had a horrible cold. As the man stood, 527 threw a punch right into his jaw, his head snapped to the right, blood spurted from his mouth, along with a tooth, the old man whimpered. “Just stay still… it’ll go faster…” Tommy said softly.
A crowd gathered, watching 527 beat the living hell out of the elderly man. Punch after punch, the old man tried to stumble away, Tommy blocked his patch, and 527 took his collar, and kicked his teeth in. Suddenly, a younger looking citizen stepped forward, and grabbed 527’s armor. The citizen was about 20, Tommy pushed the citizen off of 527.
527 snapped around, and yelled at Tommy to watch the old man. 527 used his shotgun as a club to knock the citizen his knees, he then slung it, and whacked him multiple times in the face with his stunstick. A DvL came from the Nexus, and ordered 527 to do what is necessary and finish wailing on citizens. So 527 dragged the old man into the Nexus.
“Any final words?” 527 muttered
The old man sobbed, from pain and from sadness, “Y-You are a monster… Why do you kill?”
527 lowered his pistol, and replied with, “I kill only when I need to. I protect you citizens and I only get it thrown in my face! Do you know how many necrotics I’ve killed. How many exogens I’ve killed? How many anti-citizens I’ve killed? I’ve killed them all for you heartless citizens!”
The old man continued to cry, and 527 came out with, “Why are you crying? Fear is a useless emotion. Fear leads to paranoia, paranoia leads to insanity, insanity leads to the attacking of other innocent people.”
527 raised his pistol to the man’s head, “Fear. Fear is a useless emotion.” Said 527, as he squeezed the trigger. The innocent old man fell limp at 527’s feet.
May 1st, 2016 (Back a bit further) A group Arabs filled the plaza. “Israeli swine!” Shouted one, it was directed at Tommy Jeer after jeer was yelled at Tommy. He couldn’t take it, he yelled back, and two of the Arabs confronted Tommy. They pushed him, and insulted him more.
527 jolted from behind a corner, and picked up one of the Arabs by the neck, “Why do you terrorize this man!?” demanded 527.
The Arab’s eyes widened, he showed fear in his expression, though he could not talk. 527 dropped him, and he fell to his knees. 527 whipped out his stunstick, and whipped him in the face with it, “if you continue to terrorize Tommy, I’ll terrorize you!” And with that, 527 stormed off. Everyone stared at the Arab and Tommy, one citizen patted 527 on the back.
September 10th, 2016 After 527’s long term leave, and the Move from City45 to City8 and back to City18, things took a turn for the worst. NOVA was shut down, and 527’s rank revoked. 501 was in charge of NOVA while 527 was away, instead 501 shot 676, the GRID DvL and ran off to the outlands. Not because of this, but because of the need for NOVA units, was NOVA shut down. 527 worked hard, and all his work, destroyed.
One day while in stasis, he wrote an angry log, expressing his newfound hatred of 887, and HELIX, the division that took over NOVA. 527 also expressed his hate of 145, the Commander. He made a horrible decision, because his killswitch was activated. If he decided to leave City18, he would fall dead. Instead, he stayed in stasis for about a month.
October 11th, 2016 527 stepped out of the Nexus, into the cool fall air. His NOVA patch was displayed on his arm, and he strode through the plaza, people staring. About 2 newer units stared at his NOVA patch, confused. 527 stormed into Tommy’s apartment, pacing. Messages on the radio were shouted out by the UNIFORM Officer 620, who stated that 527 was out of stasis. About a day after he wrote his log, 252 labeled him rogue. All units in City18 knew there was a BOL for 527.
527 thought for a few minutes, and ripped his pistol from his holster, and tossed it to Tommy, as he took his shotgun from its sling, the duo went up the stairs, and out onto the bridge. One unit looked up, noticing a citizen holding a gun, 527 appeared next to him, 527 heard on his radio, “I have him! I see him!”
Before the unit could draw his gun, 527 yelled, “Tommy, open fire!” bullets rained down on the citizens and CP’s, none of the shots hit, and the two ran into District 2. They hid in an apartment until they heard the footsteps and gear shaking go away. 527 took a folded MP7 from his backpack, and slid it on the ground to Tommy, along with about 5 loaded magazines, Tommy looked at 527, bewildered, but asked no questions, and slid a magazine into the gun.
The unit and the citizen proceeded to the Nexus roof, 527 opening the D2 airlock. 527 set up a simple barricade with ease. The two waited for what seemed likes hours, 527 went out onto the overwatch tower, and fired down upon HELIX unit 350. He hit him, and cheered, returning to the barricade.
The heavy steps of approaching Cp’s was heard, and Tommy looked at 527, calmly saying, “This is it. This is where we take a stand. For Jordan, for freedom, for family.” Tommy cocked his MP7 and aimed at the airlock.
Just as 527 returned to the barricade, 155 appeared in the airlock doorway, and tossed a flash, it hit the table, and the two ducked, neither of them phased by the flash. The 2 rogues and the officer fired at eachother, none of their shots hitting. 527 ran out of ammo, dropping his shotgun, just then, a flash rolled to Tommy’s feet, and the two fell down in pain. 527 heard a shotgun fire, and looked to his right.
Tommy way laying motionless on the ground, in a pool of his own blood. He was holding 527’s pistol, the pistol 527 used since he was a recruit. Tommy’s body was riddled with tiny holes, from the shotgun pellets, his mouth twitching slightly as he slipped away.
527 stood slowly, glaring at 155, who tossed yet another flash, 527 stayed standing, stumbling backwards into the table. Just as he opened his eyes, he saw 155 squeeze the trigger of her shotgun. The burning sensation hit his whole chest. 527 fell face forward, his facemask cracking. Citizens looked up from what they were doing, sensing that something had happened. 527 was laying face down on the concrete roof, shards of his facemask were scattered around, his pale face submerged in a thin layer of blood and dirt. In his clenched fist was a balled up picture of a pre-war Jordan and Michael, which he kept in his vest since he was a recruit.
Credits-------------
Michael Neill- 527, A wannabe rebel gone CP- Me (Tray)
CCA.C18.NOVA-OfC.527- Michael Neill, previous officer of NOVA- Me (Tray)
Jordan Rodrigez- Michael Neill’s best friend since before the war- eGF_Adam
Tommy Rodrigez- Jordan Rodrigez’s son, 527’s friend
Rodie Burns- Jordan’s good friend- MonkeyWithAGun
James Tavener- Tommy’s good friend, CWU- MonkeyWithAGun
CCA.C18.APEX-OfC.155- 527’s killer- Juggernaut
CCA.C18.NOVA-OfC(A).501- Acting Officer while 527 was gone- fear
(If you wanna re-read the ending while listening to this, it is epic.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iy61r3Qkm6o&NR=1
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