Subject X never used to be so rough around the edges, quite frankly when he was born, although you could hardly call it procreation, he was an empty soul, with an empty mind, yet a fully integrated body. Purpley Black draconian wings sewn and stitched in an unearthly manner, holes littered them, some remnants of a Dragon... a real dragon.
You see Subject X had been put into creation by a twisted scientist of sorts known as Gloridax. Mixed from a slew of creatures including but not limited to a Dragon, a lion, and a scorpion, only his creator himself knew the full scope of what he was made of. when he first became conscious he was writhing in pain, somehow he wasn't there, and then he was. confused locked up and alone, with nothing but fragmented memories of past lives despite having the experience of being alive. 7 weeks he starved, his body eating himself to the bone, and then Gloridax came back, that's where the real torture began, Gloridax would run sick tests and studies on him, treating him like a rat, injecting green ooze into his bloodstream, hell that sick Dr even forced him to stab himself with his own tail. You have to understand its not like Subject X wanted to be a killing machine, quite the contrary he was designed to be one from head to toe he was built to be deadly efficient at slaying enemies. one day his body managed to escape, but his mind wasn't as lucky to leave unscathed, years of torture and abuse from his former master had turned him cruel, nothing more then a war dog willing to do whatever it took to survive, "anything for freedom" was the mantra he repeated in his mind, and it warped him. so when he had his chance he struck and lashed out, relishing the fact of Gloridax begging him to be merciful.
"Please, Subject X, you know I was planning on releasing you eventually, it wasn't safe for me to unleas-"
"DONT..." cutting Gloridax off he continued "Dont give me that bull, we both know you had no such intentions, never once, have you ever addressed me as a man, my soul, my core is a man, I proclaim myself Manticore, and you will not get away with the injustice you have done to me." And with one swift motion he skewered Gloridax for the world to see.
As he escaped the compound a strange thought crossed his mind, what was he to do? this was truly the first time in his lifetime he had the freedom to choose.Ideas arose as images of fragmented lives came upon him, times of peace, picnics with families that weren't his. Although longing and lonely Subject X was able to admit to himself he had no family, he was one of a kind, so he chose the only path he had known. He chose the path of mercenary work, violence was all he knew. From that point on he vowed to never give his control up, his power was his and his alone, to serve only him and oppose the cruel world which had both gave and taken in the same instance the power of choice.
