The Shattered Pawn

Chapter 1: Abandoned

In the middle of a room sat a mysterious figure.

The room was made of white plywood, the only exception being a window, revealing the dead of night outside. Near him were a couple of pictures, each with different people. Most of them had the figure, but all of them had smiles on their faces.

He sat on a red chair while, staring at the red book in his hand. He wasn't reading it, but instead stared at the cover in wonder. It had no title, no designs, no special features... nothing. 

It was just blank.

Even then, the man still wore a somber gaze on his face. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the figure finally moved to dry his eyes. He took one last look at the cover, fingers grasping the edge of its page. 

And then...

He smiled.

???:"Well, this will be interesting."

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In the middle of his metallic chamber, a boy stared at the ceiling while lying down on his small, twin sized bed.

This is (Y/N). 

Or at least, that's what he thinks his name is. The guards just call him 296.

He just turned ten years old today, so his yearly checkup would have come any minute. He hoped it would finish quickly. Like usual.

He wore a plain white jumpsuit while three more sets sat next to his bed. The only thing he could do to pass the time was to lay on his bed and he looked around his room. His imagination would hopefully do the rest.

One of the few things in his cell were a set of books. These were mostly simple text books, containing knowledge of up to high school Math, English, History, and Science. He also owned a couple of other books, those being basic story and mythological books, but they all sat next to his backpack against the wall. (Y/N) loved to read the amazing stories of heroes, fighting off against evil foes with their might, keeping their morality and empathy through the worst of injustice and always saving the day.

His love of stories led him to his love of swords, choosing them as his signature weapons. He wasn't that good at using them, being much better at using a bow, but he trained daily in hopes of being a hero like in his books. Swords represented courage and power, something he wished to have in the future.

The facility gave (Y/N) these swords because he was the subject of a weapons company named Anvil. They were an organization that created and sold weapons to the different continents of Remnant. They had branches across the globe, each one working on a different task, unseen to the masses.

This branch's goal was to create super soldiers. 

Controllable super soldiers. 

They used children for subjects, capturing and training them to handle their more dangerous experiments. The subjects would then be injected with a serum that would force obedience towards their owner. It was modern day super slaves.

(Y/N) had been a part of this testing for five years now. He's been in this facility for nine years, however, being the youngest person to ever step inside of it. That didn't mean much though.

As (Y/N) looked around once more at his room, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the cell.

(Y/N): "*sigh* Let's make this quick."

Before he could prevent himself, (Y/N) began to reminisce on the past checkups. 

He had to be better, right? He can't be the worst still. At the very least, he had to improve. Right?