There was so little sound of movement coming from Cade's room that one would have assumed he had simply fallen asleep. In actuality he had quietly and effectively unpacked and stowed away everything he brought with him, mostly consisting of casual outfits (a dark colored t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots), base toiletries, and a few minor decorations kept on the bedside table. 

Now getting to work examining the equipment he had been issued, Cade meticulously studied the four pistols he had been issued; individually taking the firearms apart to analyze each piece before then putting them back together, nodding approvingly at each examination. These were quality pistols, even better quality than he had wielded during his time in Sundowner. He couldn't help but reminisce about his time there, when he was a young man. *'Field Agent Washington'*, the pompous title he always loved going by during missions. Oh, he did his job well, that much was sure. But a boy was still a boy, no matter how many guns you gave him. 

No no, he really became a man the day he signed away his humanity in order to save the Front. The day he had everything but his soul stripped from him in order to create the *perfect* soldier. Nightmares such as he had no place in modern society, not anymore. His life was now on the battlefield. 

It was almost a funny thing, Cade believed. His face looked the same, looked human. The only signs of his surgery aside from the eerie glow of his cybernetic eyes were various scars that dotted across his visage; though these could have easily been attributed to his time in Sundowner. A bodyguard with no scars was no bodyguard at all. 

During his first week of training, Cade was treated the same by everyone else. To them he was human...until his first sparring match during close-quarters-combat training. Not knowing his own strength, he had delivered a single punch strong enough that his opponent had broken eleven ribs, dislocated his shoulder and sternum, and punctured a lung. 

After that day, Cade was ostracized by the rest of his squad. They viewed him as he *truly* was - not a soldier, but a monster. Pursing his lips as he recalled the memory of his comrade coughing up blood on the fighting mat, wheezing pitifully and choking on his own blood as it came up his throat. 

As if to add emphasis, Cade looked down at his own hand, slowly clenching and un-clenching it, heaving out a heavy sigh. How could he return home like this? He couldn't even shake one's hand without fear of turning their bones into dust. 

Shutting his eyes tightly whilst cupping his chin, Cade's lips twitched as he thought of one person back home, one person who would accept him...*Amelia*. 

Before he could think deeper, however, a painful pressure began pulsating in the back of his head, causing Cade to grit his teeth as the pressure slowly increased, reaching a point where it felt as though his head might split before a disembodied voice spoke up, "Squad N3, Squad N3 - Prepare for a visit by General Yertz. This message will repeat."

Seconds after hearing the message, Cade's eyes darted to his massive comrade who just appeared in his doorway, inquiring about the message Cade had just heard. "Yes...yes, I heard it. I suppose we best look presentable." Cade replied slowly, his voice sounding alien and fluctuating in tone and pitch as he slowly stood to his feet, recovering his mask off the bed as he did so.