[center][h2]N-76 "Nightingale"[/h2][/center]
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An unfamiliar ceiling, the person known as Nightingale thought to itself. No matter how many times it awaken to the same scenery of the facility's clean room, it could not help but feeling that the place was alien to it.

"Ah, are you awake?" a male voice rang from the far corner of the bright, unblemished if not otherwordly ward it was 'kept' in. The owner of the voice was a man with haggard white coat draping his almost emaciated frame. Most of his face and hair was covered by sanitary mask and cap, and his eyes were shielded by thick lab goggles.

"Yes, I am," it answered curtly. Its voice was heavy, monotonal, and laden with mechanical distortion; so guttural and coarse that it would not be weird for people to mistake it as a growl of a beast or a demon of lore.

[color=gray][i]It hated its voice. One that was enough to force a laughing children to cry, and crying ones to silence.[/i][/color]

"OK. I will now run a few tests," the doctor-like male from before said as he pushed a tray of medical and technical equipment. He then sat in front of N-76, and gestured for it to place its palm over his. Once it had done just that, the man produced an oversized needle and pricked the end of its index finger with it. "Does it hurt?" He asked as he removed the needle, only to use it to probe other parts of its hand and lower arms.

[color=gray]It should have hurt, but it didn't. Another thing the Nightingale hated: its unfeeling body, where everything felt so distant.[/color]

"No professor. I felt some discomfort, but there is no pain," it answered truthfully, yet hesitantly.

"Good. Let us proceed then," the white-robed man replied as he rummaged on the medical tray and produced a surgical knife. Holding it up in his hand, the man continued with the so-called test. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, like a father would to an infantile child.

"A scalpel," the supposed child answered.
"Do you know how to use it?" the man probed further.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Nightingale snatched the knife from its handler, and with a practiced movement, twisted its arm to position the deathly sharp object just millimeters before the man's jugular. "Better than you can," it declared.

"Then, are you going to kill me?" the man answered, seemingly unfazed by Nightingale's action.

"No."
"Why?"
"I don't kill human."
"Even if I tell you to?"
"Yes. Preservation of human life is absolute priority."
"Even if doing so will kill you?"
"...Yes. Even if it kills me."

"Then what do you kill?"
"Xenos."
"How would you kill them?"
"With extreme prejudice"
"What if they appear harmless? Would you still kill them?"
"The only harmless Xenos are dead Xenos."

"Good," the man said finally as he concluded the so-called test. "You are now ready for your first mission. Gear up and rendezvous with the rest of the team at Nemesis. The commander will brief you with the mission. It should be simple enough, think of it as a warm up."

To which Nightingale replied with a curt, "Affirmative."
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