John made his way off the alternate way down to the base. And looked about curiously, tapping into the extensive set of maps, schematics and contractor's sketches for the base. His squad would be housed in Barracks building C9, near the PT field. He looked through the maps, figured out where he is, then started in the direction he thought the barracks are supposed to be in.

Down a sidewalk he went, picking his way along carefully. Stepping out of the way of soldiers and base staff, getting odd looks every time he does so as the people he stepped around or out of the way for, immediately stopped in their tracks and watched the heavily modified post human soldier as he walked off. The general news that the Nightmare Protocol is up and running and the first twelve squads are being formed up, has already gone out. But people actually seeing them is something else. He saw it in passing as he walked, but didn't pay it too much mind. The military psychologist he had talked to for several months after coming out of augmentation had said people like him would be seen as freaks for awhile. The Nightmares would be seen as something inhuman for awhile. And it'd take them a little while to be considered part of society again. Looks and hushed whispers would be part of life for awhile until everyone is accepted.

Until then John was okay with getting stared at. The simple fact is, he decided to make this change. And become what he is now. For all these people who stared and whispered.

Finally John made his way out from between two large pre-fab buildings. And found himself looking out at the huge open area that made up the Physical Training field. Two hundred meters by two hundred meters of carefully set down artificial turf. And enough room for several squads of flesh and blood soldiers to do their thing. He wondered if the Nightmare squads would end up using it, they would need to keep their flesh parts healthy, but their augmetics wouldn't need it at all.

As he stood there for a moment he watched some unaugmented soldiers running laps, and he had to smile a little. He could never have done what he's doing now, if he had volunteered for the regular army. He'd never have made it as a regular soldier at all. Deep in thought he didn't see some of the soldiers pointing at him, some of them murmuring about how they thought they didn't need these enhanced beasts in any shape or form. Some of them began to form a small mob. And moving across the field towards the currently lone Nightmare. Some just wanted to see one of these guys up close. Several others wanted to see if they could turn this tall beast of a man into their bitch, turn one of these half machines into a base wide joke.

John didn't notice their approach until they were within the ten meters of him.

He did everything his training told him to do. He dropped his bags to his sides. And sent out a wireless call for help to any nearby Nightmare units. Better to fight as one then fight alone. That's what the training had told him. Next his eyes and ears quickly catalogued all he saw. All of the soldiers are unarmed, they were all strong and powerful men, but nothing compared to him, they weren't Faithful, they weren't there to kill him. He dialed back the power in his limbs, if it did come to a fight he wouldn't be breaking arms with a touch. He again sent out another pulse asking for assistance, tagging onto it that he's in squad N3 and would love if his squadmates were to show up and help him.

What clenched John's worry though is when one of the soldiers calls out to him as the soldier rubs his hands together, "Hey Tin Can, what the hell are you doing here?" John almost felt like he could feel his circuitry popping. He hadn't thought being called a Tin Can would tick him off so much, Aggression protocols in his central control node starting to fire off. John had to grit his teeth to try and keep the rage boiling up in him, rage that is supposed to be only for Faithful soldiers, from overflowing. He looked at the soldier, the poor guy being labeled as the small twenty man mobs leader. John tried his best not to let his anger show in his voice, "I've been stationed here soldier. Just like you. Just like everyone who's here to fight Faithful." Another soldier snorted and called out, "Fuck that Tinny. We don't need you freaks here." And all John could think of for a few brief moments, was the correct position he needed to cant his left wrist at to pop that super sharp combat knife out from his wrist.

He tried to look around, hoping against hope his squad mates would show up soon to pull him out of this.