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The Beginnings by wolf of rasengan

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Chapter notes: We do not own Naruto, nor do we own anything associated with Naruto. However, we do own the fanart and the characters that we created. If you have any opinions on how to improve this fic, leave them in the review. Please, keep in mind that this is our first fanfic.
As the year, 2010 ends, the United States of America is barely holding on by a thread. The war on terror has crippled the armed forces of the nation. Every year thousands of troops suffer heavy casualties, thousands of children lose their mothers and fathers in this bloody war. The nation is on the edge on of anarchy. People are rioting in the streets wanting their soldiers to come home.

At Washington DC, deep underneath the streets of the capital building a secret meeting is taking place, an organization of the world’s most powerful people. These people own oil fields, huge corporations, and some others are just the wealthiest of the world. This meeting would decide the fate of millions of innocent people. These people where the last group of people that you would want to cross, just looking at them the wrong way would gain you a very slow and painful death. Some believed were to be responsible for making hundreds of people vanish without a trace.

“You all know what we are here to discuss,” says a man with a gruff voice,” we are here to decide what action has to be taken with this ridiculous excuse of a situation. What are the courses of action that we can take? Remember the masses must not know the existence of our secret organization.”

“What can those pathetic weaklings do to us, anyone that questions our authority we can just have them killed along with all their family and friends,” states a man with a deep Texas accent that would cause the skin of any mortal man to crawl.

“We must find a way to end this war with those pathetic excuses of an enemy. We must find a way to keep our oilfields safe, from those terrorists. This year they twenty-five more oil fields on fire,” spoke a woman with voice so cold, that it could freeze water.

“We will jump start project SHOLDIER,” remarks a male voice that made the bravest of men tremble in fear,” no more of this arguing! We will take care of this menace for the last time!

All of the members present cringe in fear of the man who just spoke. The few members, who believed in some form of a higher being, believed that this man was the devil himself. No one dared to argue with him. This man was sitting his chair, thinking of himself as sort of god who should never be questioned. The project known as SOLDIER comes to a vote. A unanimous decision delivers the verdict, a verdict that will forever change the world. The man who claims to be a god of sorts, gives a smirk that would make any man alive shake in fear of what was going on inside this man’s head.

Mere moments later the President of the Unites States and all the congressional representatives receive a mysterious phone call. All was that was heard from the President or congressional representatives was yes.



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It is the beginning of the year 2021; things were going as the way as they would usually do. People where going on as they usually do, the streets were crowded with people trying to go to work or school. Hidden in the shadows of a dark alleyway, a group of soldiers ready to fill out the commands given to the by the President himself.

“Alright you know our orders, tag and bag the civilians that meet the requirements. And kill any that doesn’t on site,” a commanding officer says just barely above a whisper.

All the soldiers under his command whispered “Yes sir,” They could not yet quite understand why the President and the whole of congress was commanding this elite strike force to abduct civilians, rather than shipping them out to the Middle East to fight. Nevertheless, they more than intelligent enough than to question any command. All the soldiers there knew never question an order, or is brutally killed right on the spot.

“Alright get moving,” was heard before they completely disappeared into the dark. Over the next, few hours all that was heard mass panic, as gunshots were fired people were grabbed and thrown into armored vehicles. At the end of it all the streets were flowing with blood of civilians; hundreds others were reported missing, especially children of small ages.



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Days later at a screening facility, armored vehicles are pulling into what you would describe as a warehouse for humans. Small children are crying for their family members that they saw murdered in front of their very eyes. The cargo in these vehicles were unloaded rather uncarefully, some were just picked up and thrown into cages.

Mere moments after all their human cargo was placed into their cages, a team of twenty scientists entered the room giving directions on how to treat their new lab rats. These were not your run of the mill scientist, actually this group of individuals were supposed to be executed for cruel and illegal experiments on human beings. Many of the scientists were rubbing their hands together with a big smile on their faces, promising torture for the poor souls in their care.

After all the labeling and sampling were done of the poor test subjects, they were all individually placed into cells. In these cells, there were no windows, barely any light, no beds, no blankets, or pillows. All of the test subjects had all personal items taken away from them, even their clothes. After that was done, they were all given a number, which was tattooed onto their arms. It was eerily silent during all of this, probably due to anyone making a sound was knocked unconscious by the butt of a rifle.



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Every day every four hours the test subjects would receive some type of what looked like drugs. They would be given these by injection, pills, some type of syrup, or inhalation by breathing through a mask. Close to noon, the test subjects would be walked out into an exercise area for about three hours. Out in the yard a small boy of about the age of eight was sitting against the wall. The young boy had short black hair, the scientists always kept their hair extremely short some reason, and his skin was darker than the others with their pale skin were. He wore the standard outfit that all the test subjects wore, which were white shorts and a white shirt. None of them wore ant shoe; on his right arm, one could see a tattoo, which marked him experiment number 39864. As he was just sitting, there he noticed a blond haired girl with thin red streaks everywhere in her hair. She wore the same outfit as he did. He also noticed that her eyes were a brilliant shade of green compared to his dark brown eyes, and was close to the same age as he was. She also seemed the same age he was.

“Hi what’s your name,” asked the girl who was now standing in front of the boy, with a smile on her face. After she had asked the boy his name, the said boy just showed her his arm. The smile on the girls face disappeared as soon as he shown her, his arm.

“You don’t remember your name either, neither do I? I cannot remember anything before they brought us here. All I know is that I’m called experiment number 39872,” replies the girl with blond hair.

The black haired boy suddenly spoke, which surprised the girl since she thought the boy couldn’t speak like some of the other experiments,” it’s the same thing for me. The only things I can remember are these scary guys in strike force uniforms.” They all knew every about the military, it was the only thing they knew. Very early on into the experiments they were taught how read and write, they were also taught about explosives, stealth, hand to hand combat, how to use every weapon known to mankind, and they were drilled day in and day out on a daily basis how to be the perfect soldiers.

After he spoke he just remained silent. Not to much later a blond haired, about the same age of them, boy with blue eyes got curious, and decided to find out what was going on.

“What’s going on over here,” he asks. Test subjects were never allowed to socialize with one or another. He was quit curious to figure out why these two would want to risk getting in deep trouble, over a simple conversation. On his arm the number that marked him as experiment number 39859.

“Nothing,” replies the blond hair girl. All of the sudden the alarm rang, which signaled everyone to return to their cells to receive more of their treatments.
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