Shoot the Face of Fate

Shoot the Face of Fate
By Moonraker One

Author’s note: My first Guyver story. This will be an alternate universe to the main story, in which a new zoanoid type will be introduced. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

CHAPTER ONE

     Water drained from a cylindrical tank about seventeen down from the left wall in one of two rows of such tanks. The metal base of the tank, with several pipes leading from underneath up to the organism’s body, pulled separate from the Plexiglas cylinder by a series of mechanical servos. With a popping sound, each of the tubes fell limp after machine reels pulled them free from the being, and then reeled them through the metal base of the tank and into reels far below the floor. Groggily, a large being opened its eyes. Its head burned with pain from the various drugs used to keep it in a chemical coma. It shook its large, spiked head to shake the feelings of wooziness. It stumbled down from the platform of the tank onto the floor, nearly spreading out but catching itself with its hands. The room seemed as though it had been spinning despite standing still, and the being struggled to overcome the disorientation. “Ooh, my head,” a raspy, almost beastly distorted voice emitted from its large mouth. Immediately, it noticed the change from its prior voice.

     “What the…AAAAAGGGHH!” The reptilian screech of a mixture of agony and fear resulted from the being looking at its scaly arm. “What’s…WHAT’S BEEN DONE TO ME?...! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS? AAAGGGGGHHH!” It thrashed about, breaking two of the tanks viciously through angry punches. “Where am I?” It let out several more screams before a metallic door opened. Only after the elderly looking man walked in did it calm down to notice the sterile, metallic, mad-science-looking interior of the room and decide that quickly running would be the best option. It attempted to dash past the old man.

     “Stop!” The command had come. Almost like a wire being pulled taut against a boat, its body stopped immediately, completely involuntarily.  The organism knew the command had to have come mentally through telepathy, since the man’s mouth didn’t move. Upon seeing this result, the man’s mouth—barely visible underneath a long white beard—curled up into a half-smirk. His hair circled around the back and sides of his head, leaving the top bald, and extended down to the middle of his chest. Veins traveled all around his forehead, inevitably stopping at a circle in which a small gem—or perhaps, the small protrusion of a much larger gem—could be seen. “That’s better,” he spoke, his powerful yet aged voice resonating thanks to the metallic walls of the cold, heartless room. “You are a success, Zulgole.”

     Trying to push the man aside proved fruitless, as a wave of his hand and another mental command rendered its body stiff as a board. “What have you done to me? Who are you?” its question certainly got through, as he looked up at the tall, reptilian creature. All the while she tried to struggle, but her body would not obey. What was the cause of this?

     “Elizabeth Otoka, your name once was,” he repeated. “Now you are Zulgole, a test type zoanoid. Surely you have many questions, but I shall answer them in full. My name is Hamilcar Barcas, and I am the chief scientific mind behind Chronos Corporation. Before you ask, we are a company based on the modification of the human genome to optimize humans into battle-ready creatures known as Zoanoids. I am a Zoalord, a leader of a major division of Chronos given the power to mentally command your body. You were brought here because of your status as a former colonel in the United States military. What else do you want to know about?” He held his hands behind his back, in a style reminiscent of scientific minds. He had been glad that a form had been discovered to optimize her into—she could not have been kept in chemical stasis safely, any longer.

     She would have punched him out of the sheer rage she felt, had she the ability to do so. “Why didn’t you assholes just kill me?”

     Hamilcar rolled his eyes. “I said that we want you to be the military training for our zoanoids. You should feel lucky; there aren’t many zoanoid types that women can be processed into, and have a good result. Now revert to your human state.”

     With his mental command, her monstrous form seemingly melted away, the scales vanishing beneath her human flesh. She, in seconds, stood as her old self. Well, her old self, plus the addition of quite a bit of muscle mass to her arms and legs, and a lot more definition to her muscle tone. She would lament herself looking like a female bodybuilder later—right now, she was too angry. “Why is that? And why do you call me ‘Zulgole’?” She figured the monster she just was would be the “zoanoid” thing he was talking about. She also assumed it as the answer to her new muscle mass.

     “Zulgole is the name of your zoanoid form. Your form is actually a Gregole type with female modifications,” he explained, using his mental powers to keep her still. “You see, we can create all sorts of types of zoanoids from men. Men can become almost any type of standard zoanoid; Gregoles and all the other power types can be mass produced, as can bio-blasters like Vamore, and even the more outlandish and creative ones.” He regarded her naked figure; not sexually, but rather, as a painter having painted a piece many would think impossible. “Your feminine body poses a unique problem, however. Women have natural barriers that prevent them from bulking muscle. When we go to process a zoanoid, however, many of these types, even ones that aren’t strength types, require large amounts of muscle mass to be gained, which your female physiology prevents from happening.

     He continued, proudly explaining the work of Chronos. “We have to custom design DNA modification that can overcome these barriers to muscle bulking. This results in a different type of the same zoanoid. Semantically, you possess the same physical prowess as any other Gregole. The only difference is in the shape. Despite zoanoids having genitalia only in their human form, your battle form has the figure of a human woman, representative of your female structure.”

     She spat in his face, the only action she could do with her body held in place by his psionic will. “I hate you fuckers for doing this. I pray that your company goes out of business, and every last one of you motherfuckers winds up dead.” She knelt before him; not out of desire to obey, but out of simple necessity. Her options were naught; she couldn’t strike him because of his mental control over her body. She struggled several times but she simply could not lash against him. “I may have to do as you say, but my mind begrudges you.”

     Barcas smiled a smug grin. “Good. You can channel that anger into leading our battle troops at our Japan branch.”

     She looked up at him. “Japan…branch? I’m going there?”

     “Yes,” his grin faded. “I’d have kept you here and given you full training, but the Japan branch has uncovered a very important artifact and we want you helping our forces successfully defend it until we can study it further.” He walked out of the room, using his psychic waves to force her to do the same.

In a building disguised as “Max Pharmaceuticals,” the director of the Japan branch of Chronos Corporation, Genzo Makishima, sat down from a standing position. He had a lot on his mind. The Guyver units had recently been discovered in a site buried deep beneath a mountain, and the threat of betrayal within the company could not be higher. The council of Zoalords would have to analyze and determine the use of the units, and if they got stolen in the meanwhile, it would certainly mean Genzo would be processed into a zoanoid. That’s why he had requested special backup from the base in Africa. He had asked for a person who he could trust to better instruct his zoanoid forces into battle. He had to prove his authority in Chronos; the higher ups would discard him—or worse, zoaform him—if he failed.
He heard a chopper landing on the roof of the building, and headed up with several bio-blaster types walking lockstep with him. This had better work, he thought. After all, we have to keep the Guyver unit under surveillance. His branch had been trusted with the Guyver units. The Japan branch had the job of figuring out everything that had to do with them; their physiology, their purpose, and their design. They were kept secret inside a bulletproof glass case that required a code that only six individuals knew. One of those individuals was in processing to become a new type, but if the test wasn't going to work they'd just remove him from the tank early and let him die.

     The wind from the blades of the copter blew downwards in a circle around it, and slowed down as the power shut down. The door slid open, and a woman in a form-fitting dark blue Chronos body suit. The lines of her muscles displayed prominently. She stood almost a fourth one over 189 centimeters, where she had only been 175 centimeters before, and her weight had increased from 64 to 100 kilograms—all of it muscle. Her zoanoid optimization caused this dramatic increase in body mass index. If it wasn't for her wider hips, and breasts properly supported by her clothing, one would imagine her a man with a very effeminate Asian face. She regarded the two bio-blaster types—who looked identical—then Genzo Makishima. The moderately overweight leader of the Japan Branch looked slightly different than the others. How does Chronos get all of these people to look like cookie cutter clones? She pushed her hair back slightly. “Greetings,” she opened. She initially contemplated rebelling—since she felt no zoalord presence—but decided there were too many zoanoids nearby. “My name is Elizabeth Otoka, and I am here to provide training to your troops. Do you have any questions?” She gritted her teeth with her mouth closed, to hide her internal struggle. She wanted to run. Her mind wouldn't let her.

     Genzo cleared his throat. “Come inside, Lieutenant Colonel, and we can discuss how you will be applied to our forces.” He looked at her carefully as they walked down the stairs. “The way your face looks...you're Taiwanese?”

     “Half Taiwanese, half English,” she corrected. She wondered what it would take to rebel against Chronos. Obviously, she had been processed for the purpose of being under mental control of another organism. She hated being abducted and assimilated into an organization that sought world domination.

     “By the way, what type of zoanoid are you? Based on your appearance, I'd say you're a power type.” He had hoped to have a smaller type to be easier to control, yet at least being a power type would provide her with the ability to fight evenly with Gregole.

     “I'm a Zulgole,” she rattled off. “It's basically a female version of Gregole. They had to process me twice to reprogram my body to allow muscle building. Women aren't usually capable of bulking muscle, you know.”

     He nodded. “Ah, that makes perfect sense, Zulgole.” He would now refer to her by her zoanoid name, even if it upset her. Chronos never placed high importance on the individual; in fact, they hoped a being would lose their individuality and become just one in a group. They approached his office, so he pushed the door open.

     “So, this is your office, Mister Makishima,” she noticed.

     “Zulgole, you are going to begin training our troops inside the battle arena, and you are given free range to give any sort of training you desire. You know better than I do what they need to learn to become most efficient at this job. After each daily training session, you will be put in among those watching the Guyver units.”
She popped her knuckles, just out of boredom. “So, where will I be sleeping?”
“Your quarters are in the lower level. You'll have one of the few private quarters that has a shower and a kitchen built in. After all, you are the most important of the group: the leader. You'll take orders directly from me in the absence of one of my superiors. Ok?”

     She nodded. “Sounds like you've got a nice little operation here.” I hope you motherfuckers all die.

     “Gather with the zoanoids in the arena now, we're going to start today.”
She stood up and began walking. “Understood.”

     The large collection of zoanoids gathered together in the arena in the lowest level. When Elizabeth walked in, they all stood at attention. None of them made any lewd remarks, none of them laughed at her female status; apparently, the troops were a lot better behaved than she expected. She walked with her hands behind her back, as she was trained. “Hello, everybody. I am Lieutenant Colonel Elizabeth Otoka, also known as Zulgole. I am a female power type zoanoid, and also your instructor for the time being. You have received basic training from Chronos higher-ups, and some of the people in the upper levels believe this branch needs greater training, which is why I was brought in. I will not be easy on you; you may possess strength and abilities that would put you at an advantage, but I will train you in an area that is somewhat new. I highly doubt you have received much strategy training, and that is my primary focus.” She walked among them, feeling somewhat disdained. So many, and such power hidden from the people's sight. If there was any way for the people to know, perhaps the world could stand against it. But as she saw, they might not learn of the truth until it was too late. “We're going to go over different types of battle plans.” She then proceeded to cover material that she doubted they ever saw before.

     Later that evening, when it was her turn to watch over the Guyver units, she sat in a chair and watched the bulletproof case in which the three units sat. She knew something had to have been done to her, in addition to her body being under a zoalord's control. Thinking thoughts against Chronos took all of her mental effort. They must have inserted something that caused her to want to be on Chronos's side. She kept thinking thoughts about Chronos then feeling extremely guilty about it. Dammit, Barcas, what did you do to me? It's already bad enough that you made me into a monster. She wiped her eyes. Looking to her left, she happened to take notice of the man in the processing tank. A new test type, he would hopefully be. His body looked to be in the midst of a painful transformation. If it succeeded, he'd wake up tomorrow as a zoanoid, much like she had when she was abducted in Africa while on a mission for the US Government. If his processing failed, the tank would dump him into a vat where he would be destroyed. Dammit, I've got to piss.

     She got up and went to the bathroom. Six cameras circled their view around the room, making sure to capture all of the information, so she felt she could safely leave the units. Inside the bathroom, she sat on the toilet in a stall and began her business. She kept thinking about how much she hated Chronos, and instinctively, began feeling a mixture of guilt and anger at herself. “God dammit!” Cursing, she hit herself in the side of the head. These were definitely not her normal thoughts. “Dammit, I can't lose this and become their willing slave,” she whispered.

     CRASH.

     She heard glass shattering.

     Oh, what the fuck now? She got up, wiped quickly, then re-arranged her outfit and took off running.

     She might have been mentally divided, but she still was a military brat. She kept running on, not stopping to look in the room. She immediately suspected the test type had failed and somehow awakened instead of being dumped, and stole the units. She suspected he had rigged it to do that, but didn't know for sure. All she knew was that the guy was in sight, and she was catching up. Even with her new muscle bound body, she still drew near.

     “Motherfucker, stop!” She yelled as she drew in. She immediately saw the folly in not transforming into her battle form at once, as he morphed before her  eyes and decked her in the face. The beast did not stop to look. She laid there for about fifteen minutes before awakening. She pulled herself up to a standing position, clutching her head in agony. She cursed herself—such pride in tactics, and she gave him the advantage. She clicked her radio. “The guyver units have been stolen! I repeat, the guyver units have been stolen!”

     A voice came on the radio. “Mister Makishima has been alerted, and he tells you to get to the upper level and wait.” She almost stared at the radio in shock.

     “We need to go NOW! If we leave immediately, we can get the jump on this piece of shit!”

     “Negative. The boss says let the asshole think he's got the upper hand. He was enough of an idiot to take his own car. We can track his location from the device on the undercarriage.”

     She reported to the boss's office. “Mister Makishima, I take personal responsibility for not being able to stop the scientist from stealing the units.” She prepared to be “dealt with,” like one see in movies. In her mind, she attacked herself further. I should've gone into my monster form, even if I hate it, and stopped this motherfucker from leaving with the units. She repeated that thought over and over again.

     He sat with arms folded. “Zulgole, you seriously fucked up there!” He scratched his shoulder. “I can't believe it! He was a failed type! You're basically a Gregole! You should have killed him on the spot!” This could mean his death, he knew. If one of the higher-ups got wind, he'd be dead before he knew it.

     “Sir, I know that...”

     “Never mind. You just get a group of our units and get those fucking units back! Find the man on radar and track the fucker down! Dismissed!” He pointed angrily towards the door. He could not afford to be looked down upon by the higher ups. In other businesses it might mean demotion; in Chronos it would certainly mean death.

     She had never run to the communications room so fast. To arrive and in less than 48 hours get the head of the Japan branch pissed off at you wouldn't serve her purposes well. Furiously pushing open the door, she dashed over to the screen. “Do you have a fix on the location?” The scientist looked at the screen.

     “Yes, ma'am,” he replied, “we're showing him heading south towards a major populated area. He's a long way away by now, but fortunately, his vehicle stopped. He'll probably have to head on foot from there.”

     “We have no time to waste,” Elizabeth fired off. “We should head out tomorrow; we can't afford to give him any more of a headstart. I'm sure Genzo Makishima will understand that.”

     “Who do you want going with you?”

     She thought about it for a moment. “I want at least four strength types and three bio-blaster types. Ok?”

     He got on the radio. “Sure thing, ma'am.” The group got together in record time; that, impressed her.

     Time pressed on. The test type, Malmotte, struggled against his entire body's intense burning pain to lurch forward. He'd left his car and the two dead police officers behind as he moved forward. The sweat from his extreme body heat mixed with the rain coming down. He looked at the three units in his leather bag. I wonder if these fucking things are worth the trouble, he thought. Certainly, he needed the assistance his employer would provide upon delivering the units.
“Alright, everyone, this is precisely what we've trained for,” Elizabeth said, commandingly. “It should be easy to retrieve the units, but you have to make sure you are prepared to battle. After all, this test type will certainly be prepared to fight.”

     “Zulgole, ma'am,” one of the Vamore inquired, “what positions should we take?”

     “The strategically best solution would be to let a strength type like Gregole or Ramotith take this test type on physically, while the bio-blasters are arranged around the site, ready to go into their battle form on a moment's notice.”

     Completely oblivious to the overall plan of Chronos and the test type involving the guyver units, two high school teens stood near a lake pitching rocks into it while talking about the major matters of life. “Come on, Sho, I know better than that. You know Mizuki likes you, I see the way she looks at you.” He trusted Sho more than anyone else. After all, Mizuki was a sister he always protected; and of anyone he knew, none of his other friends measured up.

     Sho gave his nervous cringe. “I don't know, Tetsuro. I just don't feel like I should ask her out. Besides, she has a crush on Makishima.” He bounced another rock off the water's surface. He looked at his best friend. “How am I going to compete with Agito?”

     Tetsuro rolled his eyes. “But you're more real than Agito...more down to Earth, that sort of thing. I can't see Makishima being the kind of person for my sister to date.”

     “Malmotte, you've gone far enough!” Elizabeth yelled. “It's time you gave up this little charade.” She felt proud of helping Chronos and terrible at the same time. Her conflicting emotions, however, would not interfere with  her current state.
The test type morphed into his battle form. He looked like a bat gorilla creature, except without fur—or even skin—and muscle showing. “You want a piece of me? Get out of here! I'm warning you!”

     Elizabeth stood back as the gathering of zoanoids pinned him against the wall. “Gregole, you take him on. Bio-blasters, surround him!” Her radio suddenly beeped. “Mister Makishima! We have the test type pinned, he's got the guyver units with him.”

     “Good,” Genzo Makishima replied. “Kill him and get the units back.”

     Gregole morphed into his giant battle form. Standing at a huge height of over seven feet tall, the scaly power type zoanoid grappled with Malmotte, easily overpowering him and injuring him severely. “Face it, Malmotte,” Gregole yelled in his reptilian, mangled voice, “you're no match for a actual zoanoid.” He threw the test type violently against the rock wall.

     Malmotte opened his mouth.
     
     “GREGOLE! MOVE! GRENADE!”

     Elizabeth's yell came just in time for him to shield his face from the blast, but still get thrown back. The guyver units went sailing in all different directions. “What the fuck was that!...?” Genzo Makishima demanded over the radio.

     “Sir, the test type had a concealed grenade, and he committed suicide. The guyver units went flying. We're going to go get them now.” She expected the answer she got.

     “You get those units back, dammit!” he slammed the radio down after yelling.
She looked to the group. “Someone stay behind and tend to Gregole. Everyone else, split up into small groups and find the units! Then report back here!” They ran off. Fortunately, she had a very good idea where unit two was, so she got far ahead of everyone else. Over at the lake, Gregole disobeyed Elizabeth's orders, and went to help find the units. Sho Fukamachi, along with Tetsuro, found unit one.
“Aaaagh!” Sho screeched loudly as the accidental pressing of the shiny center medal activated the circular unit. The purple fleshy tendrils wrapped themselves around his body, becoming part of his skin. As flesh got replaced by biobooster tissue, and organs with biological replacements, the teenage boy became part of the living armor. The purple goo became solid around him, his appearance becoming very alien. His hard plates were whitish, with purple soft tissue underneath. The control medal appeared on the forehead through the armor, and glowed, along with the red of where his eyes were. From two ventilation holes on the sides of two small sonic orbs where his mouth used to be, a plume of gas representing the excess poisons and antigens in his body steamed out.

     Gregole was unimpressed. “What's this? Does this small thing want to fight me? And I thought only Chronos could manufacture Zoanoids!”

     Meanwhile, deeper in the forest, and far away from any of the other zoanoids, Elizabeth made a discovery. “Mister Makishima!” she yelled. “I found unit two, and it appears to be undamaged!” She looked it over, rubbing dirt off of it.

     “Good, now let's get the rest and return to base.”

     She rubbed dirt off of the control medal. “Understood sir.” Just then, it started glowing after her touch. She took off her helmet to better look at the unit's glow, her long dark hair waving in the wind. “The fuck is going on, AAARRRGGH!” The unit quickly leapt out of her grasp, its tendrils reaching out and latching onto her. What the hell? It's binding with me! It's making me go into my battle form! What is this? ! Her thoughts raged on as she felt her clothes rip away under the strain of suddenly gaining a lot of mass. She went into a trance like state akin to sleep while the unit took a hold of her. The purplish goo covered her entire body as the tendrils became her outer tissue. The biobooster unit took shape as it started to solidify onto her body. Her zoanoid form, a heavily muscled Gregole with the curves and shape of a woman, now bonded with the guyver, became final. Her solid plates were green, with   purple soft tissue underneath. The control medal sat just below the Zulgole horn, with each of the other horn-like projections on her head becoming a guyver head beam. She gained about two inches of height, and a huge amount of weight due to the new arrangement of a guyver.

     When the hyper defense mode went away, and she regained consciousness, she stumbled around. Uggh, she thought, what the hell just happened? She suddenly caught sight of herself in the reflective surface of her helmet. “Ahh!” she recoiled, then looking closer. “So, the unit bonded with me?” She heard Genzo's voice in the helmet. “Uhh, Mister Makishima? What did you say?”

     Genzo shouted into the radio. “I said, what the hell happened? I heard you scream! And your voice sounds...different.”

     “Sir...I found the second guyver unit, but, it bonded with my body. I haven't figured out how to go back to my human form yet.”

     “It...WHAT? Oh fuck. The zoalords aren't going to like this one bit.  Aw, dammit, get back to base.”

     “Understood sir. Heading out.” She thought really hard about her human form. Dammit, I can't stay like this forever! Her thoughts seemed echoed by the unit, as it retracted from her body and took solid form in mid air, disappearing in a flash of light, leaving her in her zoanoid form. Further effort managed to bring her back down into her human form. With effort of thought, she brought the guyver out of where it had come, it forcing her into her zoanoid form before attaching itself to her body. Once more, she could willingly send it away. She smiled; perhaps this would be useful after all. Now, she might be employed by Chronos, but she now had a weapon on her side. Suddenly, she grinned widely.

     This is great! I'm not feeling guilty about thinking thoughts against Chronos anymore! It's...it's as if the unit has removed their genetic control over me!
She wanted to dance, but her men approached.

     “Ma'am! We...aah...sorry about that.”

     “Don't worry about it,” she said. “The mission status is more important. What happened?”

     “Gregole is dead, ma'am. A teenage boy found the Guyver 1 and it attached to him, becoming some kind of biological weapons system over his body; he easily overpowered Gregole. We did, however, find unit three, and it is undamaged. Did you find unit two?”

     She cleared her throat. “I found it, and activated it unknowingly. It bonded with me the same way.”

     Genzo, hearing this, cursed his luck. “So, we lost one unit to a civilian, and we recovered one not yet activated unit, and Zulgole activated unit two? Dammit. At least it wasn't a complete loss. Return to base at once.”

     Sho Fukamachi and Tetsuro Segawa headed back to their homes. “I wonder who those bastards were,” Tetsuro inquired. “I hope we don't have to deal with them again.”

     Inside the van, in her zoanoid form, Elizabeth pondered the situation. If the guyver truly removed Chronos's control over me, and I have a weapon enhancing me, then I shall turn it against the company that took my past away from me!

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO