A man with a robotic hand. A woman who has lizard's eyes. People with one eye, people with spikes for fingernails. Mutant. Cyborg. Half breeds. Gene Splicers. He'd seen many. They were victims, objects, toys, and pets. They were used until their masters found no more entertainment to be had or until they had outlived their usefulness. They were used and seen as nothings... and some were beginning to believe it.

[i]get treated like an animal long enough, and you start to become one.[/i]

Walking through the long hall, chained to others in a line, he continued his forced march towards the crushers. On his way, he caught sight of the Sentinel that was in charge of the place. His name was Davon or Dervor or something... He'd be one of the primary targets. About a month ago, he'd finally gotten the code to his private room. How far he'd come. Five years ago, he'd arrived here broken and under control of the chip he constantly felt on the left side of his forehead. Since then, he'd even managed to rewrite the programs for all his implants one by one, systematically regaining control of his body, the same way he set plans in motion to take back his life.

The first two years he spent regaining control of his mind and body. The next, two he gathered codes, broke into information caches, wrote programs to override the door locks and various other security measures, and perhaps most importantly was able to access the assignment protocols for every slave in the facility. This basically meant he could send them a message once a day through the wall mounted boards and control where certain people were at any given date. He had a select few who knew the details of the plan, and who he chose to lead the charge in different sectors simultaneously. Very soon... they would all help liberate the facility... or die trying.