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The base was bustling and busy as always. Morning, noon, and night didn't matter to those who were employed or created here. All that mattered was getting your quota done, eating, sleeping, and going back to work. As for the elite troops of the Eidolon Squad, Ghost was addressing them all inside the hanger.

"Mission accomplished, everyone report to the war room for debriefing. I will meet you there shortly." His long ivory colored tail swished side to side as he spoke. Those eyes remained as red as the blood he had spilled. "Get cleaned up and debriefed, you're dismissed." With that having been said, Ghost turned around, the long cape around his shoulders and draped over one arm swinging in the air behind him, and began to walk off.

Reaper was the one who spoke up, "And where are you going Ghost?" The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Her commander turned around and walked up to her, towering over the smaller vixen, his shadow alone eating her entire form. The massive lupine loomed over her and lifted his paw. Reaper watched it for a moment, then looked back up to him, and he flicked her nose hard enough to break it. And that was it, very light pain for questioning him... he must've been pleased with the mission to have not choked her.

Ghost left the three of them to wash up and get debriefed, as he was headed towards the mess hall. He hadn't eaten much in three days and his stomach was beginning to growl. As much of a super soldier as he was, and as many people as he could still kill without breaking a sweat, hunger pangs still affected him. He wasn't completely machine yet.

As he walked down the hall, people stopped and saluted him and he paid them no mind. It was just protocall, a sign of respect, a show of submission towards him. Everywhere he went, people would stop and salute, losing precious seconds in their lives to get a report to someone, or wake a patient up from augmentation surgery. It always amazed him to see just who would stop to salute him, and who would risk it all to rush by him with only so much as a glance of the eyes or a nod of the head. Ghost would not punish them for that, he was no glutton for garnishing respect from his subordinates.

It took him a few minutes to walk to the mess hall, as the bulk of his base was very far below ground, hidden from the rest of the world. The things that happened here were far beyond the scientific know-how of the rest of the globe. Augmentations were things of dreams for everyone else, but they were reality for Ghost and his crew and almost everyone that worked there with him.

By the time he actually made it to the mess hall, he had been stopped twice to check something and had complied. The third person was told to wait because he was hungry and wasn't stopping this time until he found something to eat. One of the directors had told him that while he was eating, he could observe some of the new spawn-troops.

Ghost walked through the line and got his food, a large steak, cooked and grilled to perfection, mashed potatoes with butter, green beans, steamed carrots, and two more plates with two more five pound steaks. Ghost was given a two gallon jug of water as his drink, and finally, he sat down and began to saw through the thick hunk of meat.

The smell of it made his mouth water, and he didn't so much eat the piece of meat he'd carved off as he did swallow it whole. The taste sent shivers down his spine, and he made himself remember to compliment the chef this time. The last one he'd been given was burnt and disgusting... and that chef had been re-evaluated and transferred to a different position. This chef was amazing and he would let them know.

With each bite he took, the hunger pain melted away. As his fork raised the last piece of meat off the second steak to his mouth, he noticed a handful of D-rank male grunts in a huddled group around someone. Through the mass of people, he couldn't see much of a face, but he did hear a soft yelp that sounded feminine. If D-ranks were picking on someone, then it was obviously an E-rank fodder type soldier. E-ranks were the lowest of the low, the grunts made specifically to waste ammunition and kill as many as possible before they were killed themselves. They were a dime a dozen so to speak, genetically created and engineered to die for a cause no one cared about.

His eyes watched the scene carefully, his concern for the E-rank was non-existant, until he saw a face. It was for but a split second, but that flicker in history, the meeting of their eyes, froze time for him. She was falling, and he felt the need to catch her, but his arms and legs felt like they were tied down, like his entire body was a weight, an iron anvil that couldn't

move no matter how much it wanted to. Her eyes were not red, but a startlingly clear, crystaline blue, and Ghost could almost see himself in them.

He still couldn't see much, especially after she fell over. What he did notice, was that his fork had missed his mouth, and the piece of steak had been pushed up against his cheek, leaving a dark, wet stain in his perfect white fur. Ghost sat his fork down and stood up, taking a napkin and wiping his cheek as he began to approach the group, which was now kicking the girl.

'What in the hell am I doing? Why am I walking over there? Why do I care? This cannot be happening, I cannot be moving over to stop a fodder level soldier from being beaten up by her superiors. It's their right to do as they please to those below them, and it's my right to do as I please to them for their actions. I'm justifying this lapse in my sanity... what I am doing, I have the right to do, whether or not it has reason... I can do it.' He thought to himself. His mind was buzzing, his heart was racing, and his mouth was dry even though he'd finished a juicy steak and downed a gallon and a half of water.

Ghost finally came to, and saw himself standing over the female, all the D-ranks having backed off upon seeing him. Her tray of food was pathetic, a handful of crackers and some cold soup with a small cup of water to drink. It was a slave's buffet, and Ghost felt something sickening in his stomach rise up... a hatred for the state she was in. It must have shown on his face because the men that had been kicking her backed off even further.

There he stood, towering over this lupine female with stark white fur, mussed up and dirty from the dust on the men's boots and the soup having spilled on her when they knocked her tray up. It wasn't uncommon for E-ranks to be abused and humiliated publicly, though Ghost himself never took part in it because, quite frankly, he didn't have the time to do it, nor the desire. She was beautiful, and Ghost actually felt attracted. He growled out loud, and caused the mess hall to practically clear out and the little female to whimper and cower beneath him.

Even the lowest ranks knew who he was, knew what he had the power to do, knew what sort of weight he carried here. To mess with Ghost was to mess with death itself, he controlled the lives of every single individual in the base, and with the snap of his fingers, you were put to death without question or reason.

The little lupine girl raised her head daringly, and looked up at him. He could see so much fear in her eyes, but... there was also something else. There was a desire to die, a need for the end. It made him stagger to see this desire in an E-rank soldier. While they were programmed to die for whatever reason, they did not fear it, they did not desire death, and yet this one did. This one displayed desire, need, want; all the things that should not ever be evident in an E-rank soldier.

Ghost finally leaned over and extended his giant, clawed paw, an offer to help her up. The entire mess hall fell deathly silent. This was something he never, ever, ever did. To offer someone lesser than himself assistance was unheard of.

The paw was stared at by the young female wolf, as if unsure whether or not he was going to help her up, or tear her arm off and beat her to death with it for interrupting his meal. It took a few moments, but the young lupine girl decided it was better to die than piss him off further by making him wait. She raised her paw up slowly and placed it in his palm. The size difference was intense. Her entire paw could've been wraped up in his palm alone twice.

Ghost closed his hand around hers, and watched her face go blank. He could see it in her eyes, she was waiting to die. She was so afraid of him, that she had given up on life when he touched her. The massive lupine paused for a moment, just holding her paw as a voice in his head asked him, 'Is this the hand of death? Why is she so terrified of me?' Ghost was upset because the voice sounded like it wasn't his thought, but someone else's.

Carefully, he lifted the woman up and back onto her feet. She couldn't have weighed very much, even without his augmentations and natural strength he could've lifted her like a feather duster. Her uniform was ripped and torn, exposing her breasts and most of her groin. Ghost looked upon her white furred body and actually found himself admiring it. She had a perky chest; breasts that were small for a lupine, but still beautiful against the canvas of her body. She was muscular and lithe, obviously having been made for less than extreme physical labor.

Ghost was about to make a move and stopped himself. There was another force inside his mind, he knew it now. There was something deep down, buried inside his psyche that was botching his decisions. The lupine female looked up at him and he glanced down at her.

"Name."

That one word made the tension so thick in the room people were holding their breath because there was no air left to breathe. Ghost was still holding her little paw and looking down into the crystalline blue eyes. There was something very beautiful in her eyes that kept him from moving, it was paralyzing and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn't tear his gaze away from hers.

"Legacy sir. E-rank sniper."

Ghost released her paw and blinked. 'A sniper? An E-rank sniper? That's unheard of! E-ranks are fodder trained to use assault weapons and handguns, not long-range rifles! I will have to speak to the directors about this.' His thoughts were jumbled for only a moment as he cleared his mind.

He said nothing else, but walked over to one of the D-rank soldiers that had been beating her up and punched him in the face so hard his head exploded and put a red spray along the walls. Ghost then took off his uniform and looked at it, blood was all over it, and looking back at Legacy, she would never wear it. So he dropped it in the floor and walked over to another of the D-rank men.

"Take the uniform off." His words were obeyed quickly, and the uniform was taken off the man and held out to Ghost. The wolf took it, inspected it for blood, and when he was satisfied it was clean, repeated the process used to eliminate the first soldier, putting another red streak on the wall.

The uniform was held out to Legacy, and placed in her paws. "The soldier that gave up this uniform, also gave up the rank and privileges assigned to it. Wear this uniform until you get one designed for your gender. You are now Legacy, D-rank sniper."

Everyone released a sigh as the hate crime ended with Ghost walking towards the door. He stopped at the opening and looked over his shoulder. "Someone clean up her meal and bring her better food. Enjoy the steak I left Legacy." That floored the entire room, even the soldiers stared in disbelief. This was a dream, everyone knew it had to be a dream, there was no way in hell the meanest, most brutal, and unforgiving son of a bitch just gave the lowest of the low ranking soldiers a promotion, compliments, assistance, a better meal, and the rest of an S-rank super soldier's steak all in one day.

Ghost was about to leave when he heard her whisper under her breath, "Thank you Ghost." Not sir, not lord, not master... just Ghost. It was the first time someone so beneath him ever addressed him by his name. And instead of killing her for overstepping her bounds, he actually... smiled.

At least until he left the mess hall. Then he growled and punched the wall, denting it about six inches inwards. 'What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I do all that for one low ranking, small tit, scared to death, pansy ass E-rank sniper? She's not worth the trouble I'm going to get over this.'

Ghost walked down the hall and into the war room, where everyone was gathered around the large oak table and three directors were standing behind podiums. When he entered, all eyes turned to him.

"Now that Ghost is here... we can truly begin the debriefing."