“Who.. are these guys?” Smith asked, curious and confused.

  “Oh, them? They’re your children, if I were to put it mildly.” Anthony replied monotonously, expecting no reaction from Smith whatsoever.

  “..What?”

  “Alright, so basically this — We created three perfect copies of you made of your brain cells and your flesh, and used the same flesh you’re made of, to form what we call as semis or semigods. They’re not fully made of it, not fully human either.”

  “And for notice, you’ll be training them to adapt before you and them go to Taiwan, simple as.” Anthony ended his dialogue.

  Smith was once again dumbfounded. He was copy-pasted, and now he has an entire platoon of people, with the same powers, and even some with the same brain as his. “Is this some kind of a joke?” He thought to himself.

  He understands that the military wants more of him, obviously. “But was copying his brain really necessary?” He thought to himself once more.

  “In addition, sergeant. See the ones in red? The one with nametags ‘A1, K4, and T2’?” Anthony spoke again.

  “..Yeah, what about it?” Smith inquired. Anthony began to lean closer, and whispered to Smith’s ears.

  “They don’t have knowledge of human culture, or anything about humanity. They’re made from your brain cells and have only a sum of your memory.”

  “..How?”

  “No time to explain, just give them a thing or two on humanity and humans.”

  Well everything just went off-course. First, we have semigods, and now we have three ‘uncultured’ brain clones.

  Anthony moved away from him, and proceeded to introduce the semigods one by one to Smith. Smith was there, just frozen and weirded out. He accepts the fact he won’t be seeing the battlefield for another month, 2 weeks if they’re lucky.

  However, finding out that he now has to also input a sense of normal humanity into three individuals, while also training them to be brutal killers for the cities and forests of Taiwan, is confusing, and also hard.

  “So.. I’m supposed to train them now?” Smith inquired to Anthony, once more.

  “You’re goddamn right, staff.”

  -

  Deadwood Testing Range, Ash Valley EC

  The sun hung high over the vastness of the range, with a clean and sharp light cutting shadows on the thin patches of grass. The air is filled with a low moan of the wind, dragging across the empty land. The sky went on forever, hugging the flat landscape lightly.

  Below, nineteen men and women stood against the intense heat, as sweat trickled down their torso to their feet, and some fought against the urge to collapse.

  Staff Sergeant Smith Johnson overlooked the crowd below him, as he stood on a tungsten pedestal. Below him are the three sergeants — Alpha-1, Kappa-4 and Tau-2, assigned to aid him during both training and the incoming deployment, looking towards the crowd with expressionless but curious eyes.

  Smith spoke first, announcing his intentions and the safe activities they will do in this training. “Welcome back to life, platoon.”

  “I’m your Staff Sergeant, Smith Johnson. Pretty sure none of you asked for this, but your life is sold to the military, so why bother?”

  “Now listen up. You’re now a God. Or better yet, a semigod, means you’re not like Jesus, but still as powerful as him.” A pair of crescent, bone blades suddenly extended from the left wrist of his hands. Afterwards, six tendrils ruptured from Smith’s back, nearly reaching the crowd.

  The platoon flinched, with them being either in shock, scared, and most importantly, in awe, and some even began trying it out themselves.

  “This isn’t the only thing you got, platoon.” Smith continued. “You all also got a couple of other things up your sleeves.”

  However, before Smith could continue, a loud PRICK noise echoes, as Private Bryan Trelane ejected a wrist blade so long it pierced through the ground and his feet. He screamed in pain and shock, as the flesh slowly regenerated and retracted the blade.

  “HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK” As the young boy yelled, seeing the pain his powers can bring now. Smith had to personally move from the pedestal, and aid the young boy.

  “Calm down, Private. It’ll heal by itself.” Smith mutters in disappointment. He then proceeds to speak to the crowd once more. “Alright, ignore that. Second thing you’re gonna go is basic tendril control—”

  But before Smith could even teach them about the basics of anything, one of the Specialists — Badrick Brown, unknowingly activated his ‘Vulcan Eye,’ a term used by the military to describe the ability to shoot molten metal from the cornea.

  His Vulcan Eye fired molten iron into the flesh of Private First Class Evelyn Miller, who screamed in shock as she noticed parts of her arm decomposing and then suddenly regenerating. Smith facepalmed himself, with a hard slap noise vibrating from it.

  Meanwhile, Specialist Sebastian Rivas began trying to extend the tendrils, only for them to rupture faster than the speed of sound, as he was propelled, and hit at least a few people, making them tumble like dominoes.

  Meanwhile, the demigods just stood there, curious. Smith looked towards the crowd. Eyes disappointed, he whispered to himself.

  “Well this ain’t gonna be smooth, ain’t it?”

  -

  5 days later, at Ash Valley EC

  Major Glen Harper and Lieutenant General Anthony Freeman once again walk in the hallways connecting endless amounts of buildings of the complex. Today, Anthony and his assistant are here to gain reports on how the training of the unofficial ‘G.O.D.’ Gods Of Death Platoon is going.

  As they enter the Interrogation Room to conduct the regular daily meeting, they find a hastily-dressed Smith, with half of his head and torso still regenerating from what seems to be 3rd degree burns. Additionally, his eyes were deadpan, with black circles forming below it.

  Anthony, of course shocked by what happened to the usually well-mannered and prepared Smith. “Jesus, what happened, staff?”

  Smith didn’t even look towards Anthony, a sign that Anthony interpreted as exhaustion from the training. He began to rise from his seat, and spoke in a dry voice.

  “I didn’t know this is what my drill sergeant dealt with.”

  “Oh come on, staff.” Anthony responded. “It’s not that bad, isn’t it?”

  Smith, eyes still dead and blackened, slowly turned his gaze to him, and exclaimed.

  “Sir.. I got two sides of ‘em semigods. The first one are cowards who don’t wanna use their own powers. The second just wants to show off their new skills. I got Specialist Brown, dumbass broke his arm trying to test his strength. I call ‘em out, and they just cave in more.”

  Anthony, confused, asked “What about your clones? Aren’t they helping you with the semi’s training?” Smith laughed, voice still dry and tired.

  “I mean, they’re trying, but they have no soul at all. They don’t get it. They mimic and do perfectly as I say, but it’s as if they can’t express it. They don’t understand shit on teaching, sir.”

  Smith exhaled, and continued. “They do what I do, but without purpose, without soul. They’re just as useless as the semis when things go to fuck-all, urgh.” He dragged a hand on his face, burnt out from the countless times of training during those 5 days. His hands began to tremble, out of fatigue.

  Anthony looked towards him at pity, and quietly replied. “You’re the only demi I know here who can control yourself. That’s not nothing, staff.”

  Smith looked at him back, and said “That’s the goddamn problem, sir.. I’m the only one, the rest are like lil’ kids with live frags.”

  “So what’re you saying, son?”

  “I want out, sir. I’m done with this project.”

  Silence filled the air for a moment. Anthony leaned forward slowly. Like a father, he patted his back and tried to remotivate him. “You almost died in Kiev, remember? We gave you this and now you’re something more.”

  He continued. “I take back my words. You’re not just a weapon, you’re something we can’t comprehend.”

  “I didn’t ask to come back, or made it into this.”

  “I know, but you did anyway. And now you’ve got mirrors tryna be you, and sixteen others looking to you, to know what makes the new them, them. You think walking away helps them? Leave them better off on their own?”

  Smith blinked. “‘Course not, sir. But I’m tired. I can’t make them believe they’re like me. And my clones? They’re like statues. I talk and none of it sticks to any of these people.”

  Anthony stood up, and eventually, spoke his last attempts at motivating the burnt out demigod sitting in front of him.

  “They don’t need perfection, Smith. They need someone who knows it’s goddamn hard, someone who’s still here, in spite of everything.”

  Anthony continued. “Five days, that’s all. You’re a soldier for 5 years, you know nothing good happens during the first five days.” As Smith listened to those words, he sat in silence. Finally, he exhaled and nodded.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Guess I’ll keep at it, then.”

  And then, he bitterly smiled. “But if Bryan stabs himself with his fangs again, I’m locking him in my bone forest.”

  Anthony chuckled. “Fair enough. Good luck, staff.”

  -

  Deadwood Testing Range, Evening

  The sun slowly dipped behind the red hills of Western Texas. The wind slowly carries the dry breeze across fences and tungsten walls of the range.

  Inside the TR, Smith leans against a concrete wall, sipping on cold scotch thirstily. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing the scarred muscular arms of his, some from childhood, some from the battles in Kiev. He’s still tired, but not burnt out.

  A loud THUNK echoes suddenly as Private First Class, Evelyn Miller ejects molten zinc from her Vulcan eyes, nearly hitting Smith before he blocks it with his tendrils. He didn’t even blink.

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry sir, I just—” Her apologies are cut short by his grunting.

  “Don’t be sorry, be in control.” He taps her on the shoulder lightly. “You shouldn’t hold back, private.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Their conversation is immediately interrupted by the demigod clone, Kappa-4 as she steps forward to Smith. “Staff Sergeant, this light tapping on the shoulder. What does it do?”

  Smith, whirls around to face her, chuckling a little. “It’s called reassuring, K4. You try and comfort someone by doing it. Also, call me Sir, for convenience.”

  “Acknowledged, Sir.”

  Smith slowly looks towards the distance, as he watches a pair of semigods — Sebastian, Badrick and Bryan, sparring awkwardly on the field.

  As Badrick constantly over-flexes himself, Bryan continuously apologizes every time his tendrils went spiraling on the ground, nearly bisecting Sebastian at times, it’s a good thing the god-flesh only regenerates the body parts still connected to the brain.

  “Greetings, Smith..” As Glen Harper, assistant of Anthony Freeman, approached silently towards Smith. Smith, not recognizing the voice, turned around to see the nervous Major.

  “Care for some protein bars?” Glen extended his hand to offer it to Smith. Smith grabs it, and opens the plastic packaging.

  “Greetings. I assume you’re…”

  “Major Glen Harper, aide-de-camp of Lieutenant General Anthony Freeman.”

  Smith nods. He took a bite of the bar, and looked towards the range again, eyes disappointed as he watched them lazily. Glen notices this, and asked the Staff.

  “Have you considered not treating them like soldiers, Staff?”

  “I’m sorry? They are soldiers, sir.”

  Glen, still nervous despite him being older than Smith, answers: “Well.. They aren’t like you. They’re new soldiers. You’re used to the pain.. but they’re not.”

  “Go on, sir.”

  “Well, their own bodies don’t even make sense to them. You keep throwing drills at ‘em, they’ll think its punishment for existing.”

  Smith looked towards another semigod, as Specialist Paul Davis knocked himself over trying to retract his wrist blades after many times.

  “So what do you think I should do, sir?” He asked back.

  “Maybe start smaller? One power at a time, and give them a different environment.” Glen fixes and tightens his uniform. “You’re their drill sarge, so I guess you’ll figure it out one day.”

  Smith exhales, and takes another bite from the protein bar. “Ever trained a team of proto gods before, Major Glen?”

  Glen chuckled, “Nah, but I raised three teens through their adolescence.”

  And with that, he left, leaving Smith with a half-eaten protein bar. He slowly thinks to himself, “What would a drill sergeant do with proto-gods?”

  Suddenly, an idea clicks into him. He remembered a training dome for simulated environments. It’s much safer there. He calls the platoon to rest for today.

  -

  Iron Mesa Training Dome, Ash Valley EC

  The dome’s padded roof stretched vast, curving and uniting with the ground on the ends. The walls and ground were padded with concrete and metal, padded comfortably by soft walls. The atmosphere is filled with a warm and calm shimmering light, simulated by the roof.

  In here, after yesterday, Smith has decided to change his instruction style. After six hours of intense training under a new style, the demigod clone Tau-2 noticed the difference, and she then questioned Smith.

  “Sir, I and the others have observed their progress. Have you changed your ways of instructing?”

  Smith nods, and eyes towards the trio for a long moment. Then suddenly:

  “You know what? Y’all getting human names, as part of your humanization program. I’m tired of remembering this.”

  Smith points at Alpha-1, and declares his name as Andrew. He then points towards Kappa, and declares her as Maria, and lastly towards Tau-2, whom he declares as Ava.

  “Are we now considered as humans?” Maria inquired. Smith responded with a simple ‘no’, but explained that in time, they will eventually become humans.

  Meanwhile, Private Bryan Trelane’s cornea began to shine orange, as a spray of molten copper ejected out of it. It hisses through the air, and for the first time, hits a marked target with a clean thud. It didn’t spray away, and hit exactly where it was meant to be.

  He exhaled, and lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it since day one. He turned towards Smith, with an excited face. Smith nods in acknowledgment. He admits that even though Bryan hasn’t been able to control it, he’s made significant progress.

  “Did you see that sir? I did it!”

  “Yes, I saw that. Good work, Private.” Smith acknowledged, as he made a small, barely noticeable light smile.

  Meanwhile, Private 1st Class Evelyn Miller began to extend roots from her boots, cutting into the ground and extending into bone spines, curving into a defensive spiral. Paul and Badrick, the overproud duo, tried copying it as a form of flexing.

  Unlike most of their attempts at mimicry however, they managed to actually do it after extensive training under Smith’s new instruction style. They began to proudly boast about it.

  “Hah! I’ve easily mastered this only after a few tries!” As Paul proudly boasts in a very smug tone.

  Smith sneered, and then chuckled. The duo’s never-ending smugness never fails to amuse him. Suddenly, an excited yell was heard as Specialist Sebastian Rivas managed to lift a 2-ton weight with only his bare left hand.

  “Holy fuck! I’m actually doing it!” Rivas exclaimed happily. The semigods cheers him, as everyone congratulates the success of Rivas.

  This was coupled by Bryan finally being able to pilot his Vulcan eye’s shots, as he managed to curve the straight trajectory 90 degrees, before latching itself onto a dummy.

  Even the demigods showed interest, and formed rough faces one would call a smile.

  And Smith, for the first time, felt like the platoon was ready.

  “Alright, platoon. Time for our designated bedtimes. Come on, everyone.”

  As they all left the dome, a lone technician, dressed in a janitor’s outfit, overlooks them from a metal balcony. And then, just before all of the crew walked outside, Rivas feels odd. His ears now feels… sensitive.

  He looks upward, to the balcony above. He ignores the feeling, deducing it’s his tendrils acting all out of place again.

  While in reality, he nearly uncovered something terrifying.

  -

  Observation Tower #7, Ash Valley EC

  It’s midnight, as the complex sleeps and quietly rests with the vast desert sky. The silent ambient is only interrupted by the hum of generators, and the buzzing of patrol drones, searching for any intruders.

  Smith stands on a balcony, in a tower constructed among the walls and fences. He sips a cup of coffee. Despite being a demigod, he still has a human brain, and never lost the burden of needing to rest every night. His eyes are weary and tired, but still alert.

  Behind him, he heard soft footsteps. He doesn’t turn, he knows who’s there.

  He spoke out, softly. “Hey, what’s up?”

  She walks, approaching him and eventually standing beside him. She spoke not monotonously, but rather in a warm tone.

  “I felt the need to reflect here. I have… something that has been disturbing my mind.”

  Smith took a glance at her, then back towards the flat expanse. “Noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

  “I have begun having.. Thoughts I feel spontaneous. I have observed the others, and I have felt things I cannot identify.”

  Smith was intrigued. This was not the usual, robotic-like Maria he knows usually. He considers her as more human than the rest of the trio, sure. But that doesn’t excuse her zero understanding of humanity.

  He inquired, turning towards her. “Huh, like what?”

  Maria hesitates, then turns to lock eyes with him.

  “I.. felt sorrow when I heard Bryan cried after receiving news on his brother’s death. I felt warmth when Ava jokes, and everyone laughed.”

  A silent pause, as the two continued to stare at one another.

  “And when you named me Maria. I felt.. valuable, Like I mattered.”

  Ah. Smith realized what it was. Out of the trio, he expected Maria would develop the concept of humanity faster inside. He noticed something in her eyes. There was no blank in it. There was a spark, a white spark. Emotion.

  “Well, Maria. That’s called humanity. You’re gaining emotions, something humans have. How do you feel about that?”

  Maria replied. “I don’t know. It’s confusing.. But now.. I feel like I care about it. I now care about what you think, as well. Wondering if I’m making you proud. And that.. feels different.”

  Smith doesn’t respond. He gazed into her eyes. Then:

  “You are making me proud. More than you’ll ever know.”

  As he looked away from her towards the flatland, Maria felt something; not involving the divine flesh fixing around. No, it was an emotion.

  Affection, Longing, and Shame.

  “..Goodnight, Sir.”

  “Goodnight, Maria.”

  As she slowly walks away to the quiet corridors of the tower, Smith was left alone. Something was stirring inside him. Though he doesn’t know what it is. He only hopes its the start of something good for him and her.

  -

  Iron Mesa Training Dome, Ash Valley

  It is the 8th day of the unofficial platoon’s training, as Smith’s extensive new methods have now improved the platoon. It is not to say their skills aren’t rough, but they have been smoothed out.

  Smith paces along the edges of the dome, barking commands towards Private First Class Keiko Sato and Specialist Sebastian Rivas, both of whom are engaged in a friendly spar using ground-roots. Meanwhile, the demigods train the semis on how to develop their bone exosuit.

  However, today is particularly odd. Reports have came from Sebastian who continues to feel odd inside the dome. Smith has dismissed this as normal adaptation, but today, Sebastian can’t move his eyes from the catwalks above him, particularly on a seemingly harmless technician.

  “Dude, what are you doing!?” Keiko yelled out to him. Rivas doesn’t respond. He just stood there, staring towards the man.

  “You hear that?” Rivas exclaimed, pointing towards the technician. He keeps his eye on him.

  “Rivas, what the hell’s the matter with ya?” Smith approached him, after seeing Keiko complain. He tried to pull Rivas back, however he kept mumbling strange words. Rivas’s eyes began to change colors, a sign of eyesight change. However, it’s switching uncontrollably, from red to blue and green, and to others.

  “Staff..” Rivas pointed towards the man. “He’s recording us.. signal’s going to Yakutsk and Beijing with some kind of encrypted shit..”

  “Huh?” Keiko and Smith responded.

  Unbeknownst to them, the ‘harmless’ technician was a Russian spy, sent from Yakutsk and trained under the best of the best, to blend seemingly into the crowd.

  Recently, reports have been circulating inside the Sino and Russian spy networks regarding a godhood project. And apparently, that spy was ordered to investigate this specific place, and in which, he managed to uncover Stoneheart; the grandiose project for demigodhood.

  The spy nervously turns off his transmitters after sending the video file, and was just about to escape outside, before a flesh tendril reached out and grabbed his waist.

  Tightening the tendril’s claw grasp, Rivas pulled the man using the tendril at inhuman speeds back to the field, slamming him to the ground. The last thoughts of the poor spy, was how he was detected all of sudden.

  “He’s a mole, sir. Transmission of encrypted video recordings, bound to the eastern sphere.” Rivas exclaimed, looking towards the man with dead eyes.

  Smith’s expression turned to shock as he saw the devices of the ‘technician.’ Wrist devices with holograms spewing out texts in Russian. It was clear.

  Smith immediately ordered the evacuation of everyone from the vicinity, and called in the security.

  -

  Afterwards in the Interrogation Chamber

  Smith and Anthony look towards the spy from a one-way mirror barrier, as the spy gets verbally and physically abused by the interrogators as they storm him with questions even he himself doesn’t even know.

  A hologram screen in front of the two, began to show translated and decrypted messages sent by the spy. Every listed names, locations, and data logs on performances.

  “Researchers say that they were all sent straight to Beijing.” Anthony grunted in dismay. “Every single damn test metric since day 1.”

  Smith followed up on Anthony’s words. “Just like Rivas said. That spec ain’t a radio tower. That’s pure..”

  “New mutation.” Anthony finished the sentence. “They’re changing. First you with the roots and bone armor. Now it’s.. this.”

  “And there’s no time to study on this, staff.” Anthony continued. “We got reports from the Taiwanese. two-thirds of the Capital Megalopolis is falling to Chinese forces. If we don’t act fast, that city’s as good as dead.”

  “What’re you saying, general?”

  “We’re sending them in tomorrow.”

  Smith doesn’t respond. The sudden words dawn on him.

  “They’re not ready, sir.”

  “I know, but they’re our last hope. Word’s out there, and our allies are failing. Better now than never.”

  Smith looks towards the feed again. That feed of their crew, enjoying their daily training. He stood there for some time, and then:

  “I’ll tell ‘em.”