The florescent lights that ran along the ceiling did a less than stellar job at keeping the room brightly illuminated. With only one door, the way in, locked, there was not much to do besides sit in one of eight chairs set adjacent to each other, facing forward. The front of the room had a monitor, but it was off and close inspection would reveal no method of activation.

The back-rest of each chair had upon it a number, in order from left to right they counted from two to nine. The width of the room could comfortably fit nine chairs, but only these eight were present. Sitting in each chair were seven men and one woman. Each one took the number that matched the number they were given earlier that day, save for the men in chairs numbered two and eight. These men were already given their numbers, and only they had any idea what was going on. They had each been selected for some secret project. They were told they cant refuse, and are not to tell anyone. They each underwent a series of surgeries to improve natural abilities and add new skills. They were told that they would be outfitted, but have not received any sort of armor or weaponry.

The man seated in chair two had a stern glare about him, one of dedication. His short hair and facial stubble was a blend of blonde and red. His emerald eyes examined the other seven people, and the room.

Chair number three had a similarly poised man. This one's dark hair and eyes only improved the intimidating military rigidness he wore on his face and posture.

Number four was a younger man. At least he seemed younger behind a cloth that rose above his mouth and nose. Only his grey hair and red eyes were visible underneath a black hood.

Fifth was a rather confident looking man. His smirk and muscle gave him an aura of cockiness. But there was a shine in his sapphire eyes that hinted at being more than a man of force.

A dogtag hung from the neck of the man seated in chair six. Bandaged hands stroked navy colored hair in one, and a dagger in the other.

The seventh chair belonged to a fashionable young man. Gold hem lined a black suit, accenting his amethyst eyes and black hair. His demeanor appeared calm and collected, ready for whatever he was here for.

Seated in chair eight was a man who had the very obvious look of some kind of technician or doctor. His white lab coat matched his snow colored hair. His bright blue eyes gave away his excitement.

The final chair held a woman with long red hair. This ninth person had an aura of grace about her, but also some strange mix of anticipation and depression. Her slate grey eyes examined her new companions and the dull room they were seemingly trapped in.

A stagnant silence haunted the air around the eight individuals. It seemed that no one would come through the door anytime soon. It was only a matter of time before one of the seated spoke up.