The woods were deathly silent. Birds sang, bugs chirped, and the lake water splashed softly on the sand.

All of a sudden, everything went quiet except for the sound of a small motorbike zooming down the hiking trail. This particular bike was carrying a very disturbed Agent S.

Simon revved the bike, and pulled off by the lake. There was a small boathouse here, which by luck, had a row boat in it.

S got off the bike, and pulled the rowboat out. He got in, and slowly paddled across the water. He was tired, but he knew he had a mission to fulfill once and for all.

Simon checked his weapons, and prepared for the long road ahead.

· · ·

"Sir, we have tracked Agent S-3's actions. He is now in sector 28907fd. We believe he's seeking assistance from a foreign government."

The fifty-year-old gray-haired man sat at his desk in a recliner, wearing a robe. He turned to face the videophone.

"Well, send him a message via Agent S-4. Agent 4 knows him, so he might convince 3 to come back."

"Right. What do we do with Agent 6's body?" the soldier replied.

"We clone him. Just like all the others. We need exactly 13 alive for the energy to fluctuate right. Don't you remember anything?"

"Right, over and out." The soldier replied, and with that, faded out.

The old man lit a cigar. Before he had taken one puff, the monitor beeped.

"Tracey?" the old man yelled out to his secretary, who set at a desk on the other side of the room.

"Boss, you've got another call."

"Send it through."

The screen lit up again. This time it was a scientist in a laboratory.

He was bruised, and covered in blood. He rushed into a small closet, and took the videophone with him.

Inside the closet, he paid attention to the camera. He looked very scared, and he constantly watched the door.

"S-s-s-sir?" he stuttered.

The old man raised an eyebrow.

"Sir, this is Lab assistant Reynolds in Lab 8. Your lab, remember?"

"Yes, Reynolds?"

"We, we had an accident. Project 430 broke free, and started wrecking the place. You need to send an extermination squad to kill it, me, and all other survivors."

"Yes. Contamination could be spreading. We need to stop all potential contamination at any cost. There's another problem as well. Well…actually several."

"What?"

"Well, for one, 430 knows who you are. He's pissed. This last week, he's been talking about killing his maker. Also, he knows about the surrounding labs. He's releasing all the other experiments."

"Oh shit!"

"Yeah, so send a clean-up crew immediately. We lost contact with Lab 9 minutes ago, so Experiment 9 must be free. God save us from these science mistakes."

The door opened, and Reynolds screamed. The screen went to snow, the camera feed had been cut.

The old man lifted his phone.

"Tracey, get a fucking clean-up crew to the Gamma lab complex, immediately! Sector 8 is contaminated. Fuck. What now?"

The screen was looking at a little boy with pale skin, standing in a playroom. He seemed no older then twelve, and was stark naked. He looked at the camera, and the old man looked away.

The little boy's eyes were eternity.

"Hello creator. You ready to die?"

The boy smiled, and laughed. The old man flipped the switch. "I have to get out of here." He replied.

The old man got out of his chair and started to walk towards the door. He thought a moment, and remembered he had a meeting. He sat back down

· · ·

Agent S stopped the rowboat under the pier of the house. He climbed up under it, and pulled out some mountain climbing claws. He attached spikes to his boots, and crawled along the bottom of the planks to land.

When he reached land, he dropped to the ground and hid in the bush he found there. He rushed from bush to bush, and made his way slowly to a bush by the house.

The house he was at was like a beach house. The only difference was this was a private house with it's own lake in Colorado.

Agent S walked to the sliding glass door, and opened it. He was puzzled at the lack of security. He walked down the hallway, and opened the door at the end.

The room he now found himself facing was a great den. There was a burning fireplace at one end, gigantic pictures on the walls, a huge TV screen at the other end, and a desk in front of the screen.

Another door was across from S, but he walked to the desk. The chair swirled around, revealing an old gray haired man in a robe. S realized there was a lack of security on purpose. S spoke before the old man could.

"I've been expecting you?" Agent S said louder than the man, making it seem as though the old man only mouthed the words.

"How'd you guess? No security?"

S nodded in response.

"Very well. I've been monitoring your approach." He continued.

"How?"

"Oh, you have many questions to be answered. Tell me, what have you come to ask me? Well?"

Agent S pulled out an UZI, and pointed it at the old man. "Tell me, tell me about my past." S thought a second.

"Who're my parents. Who the fuck am I? Answer that!"

"Oh. Very well."

"Yeah?"

"Your parents were selected out of the finest selection of people we had. We have their names, but it's no use. We had to kill them all later."

S narrowed his eyes and frowned.

"You are Agent S 8. The S in Project S stands for Simon, the name of every Agent. Essentially, all Simons are part of each other. You see, the original Simon was made, and every Simon is a clone of him."

"Every Simon? How many are there? I'm 8, ain't I? How many?"

"13. We have thirteen Simons. We must have thirteen Simons. As I said, they're all one person. All thirteen Simons share the same soul. In truth, the power of the Simon is so incredible that the least number of bodies can be thirteen."

"So that explains the chest pains when Agent 6 died. What happens if there become less than thirteen?"

"The remaining Simons wouldn't be able to hold all the power. They'd release it, likely destroying everything around them. Our first project, Project Tom, showed us what would happen."

"Yeah?"

"They were six, and six was the least that could contain the power of Tom. Two died in an experiment, and the other four exploded. The remote mountain laboratory where we were keeping them was instantly turned into a five mile radius crater."

"What?"

"Each Simon has a hundred times that potential. We were lucky on the Tom project. We kept them within a half a mile of each other. We okayed the Simon project, and dispersed them across the world. If the Simons were to explode like that, it'd wipe out three fourths of the world."

"Wait. So why didn't that happen when Agent 6 died?"

"His brain and body were still operational. His mind was still active."

"So he's alive."

"No, he told too much. We killed him. You see, we've also found that losing one Agent will not destroy the Simons. It only puts strain on the life force. We re-cloned him, so everything's fixed."

"Well, you've explained a lot."

The old man smiled.

"Yes, I hope your not as confused."

"Well…before 6 died. Before he died, he spoke of our powers."

"Yes?"

"We all have different powers. But there's something else."

The old man stopped smiling.

"What's our secondary power?"

"Well, I'll tell you it's origin. The first purpose of these projects was to create a being with immense power. Human energy is powerful, but the average person doesn't have very much in them."

"So you want to create a being with a lot of untapped energy. Great, so you found that person took thirteen bodies, each like a different person. But all this power…for what use?"

The old man now had a frown.

"This is where you get into waters even too deep for your powers to save you."

"Tell me, Dammit! What is this all for?" S yelled, pointing the gun at the man's face. He turned off the safety.

"Well, now you've worn out your welcome." The old man replied.

Suddenly Agent S was hit in the shoulder. He dropped the UZI, and looked at his shoulder to see a bullet wound in it.

"What?!" he yelled. He was stunned. Agent S had never actually gotten hit with a bullet before. He stared.

"As I said, you're over your head. You see, we can't have any of the Agents finding out too much. They might conspire against us. We have plans for all of you." The old man continued.

S managed to get to his feet. He turned to see who had shot him.

Amy walked out of the darkness, a hint off sadness in her eyes.

"You're the only Simon we can't memory erase, because of your luck…"

Amy got out of the car, and walked over, across the street, and sat at the Café table.

She put her head in her hands and cried. How long had she known Simon?

She remembered it all clear now. She had been there when Agent 8 was born. Amy had seen every Simon born, and yet she always saw 8 as the true Simon.

She had known the original Simon, and 8 seemed the closest to him. If only Simon 8 only knew her true age.

Amy could remember when she was a little girl. It was different then. She was a peaceful person in a peaceful world.

One day, however, The Industry came. They kidnapped several people from her village, and she was one of them.

They did tests on her, and made her life hell. She only wished she could break free and bring revenge down on them.

Mostly on Robert. Robert was The Industry's president, and he himself watched over the experiments they pulled on her.

She was tapped on the shoulder by some one, and stopped crying to look up. She sniffled, and stared.

"Hello, Guardian." Agent S 6 replied. He sat down next to her.

"Oh, hello 6."

He noticed her tears, and wiped them away with a handkerchief.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"It's just, I can't sat by and watch 8 go through this. I'm leaving it all. I can't watch what that bastard Robert has in store for him." She explained., sniffling.

"You and I both know he has little choice in what he's stuck in. You know no one but you can stop him."

"I know, but he's clueless and lost. I saw him raised since birth, and I can't help but feel for him…"

"What, Amy?"

"I…I love him."

"I know. Anyone can see it, even that bastard Robert. We can't do anything about it."

"You can. Tell him everything."

Simon turned, and looked at his nemesis. S realized that this here was his true enemy.

Simon always took things light hearted, and shrugged off even the worst threats. The difference he faced now was not his life being threatened, but everything and everyone he cared about.

For once in his entire life, immense hatred filled Simon. He realized that he was nothing more than a creation of this smiling, gray haired bastard who thought he was god.

Who was this man, this simple man? This simple aging human thought he could take on the responsibilities of a deity. He thought he could create and control the lives and destinies of people. People.

Simon knew inside himself there did not flow pure human blood, but he was a person like any other. He knew that this man was a monstrosity, a beast whose power had dire consequences.

Simon knew the reality of deities. Things you create one day grow to destroy you. Simon knew his goal now. He must, at any costs, bring this man to his deserved death.

This man would feel the retribution of all whose lives he had tortured. Simon pulled his pistol up and aimed.

He paused. A simple bullet through the skull would certainly kill him, but it was nothing compared to the torture and suffering brought upon his 'experiments'.

Simon lowered his gun, and stared at the man with cold, hateful eyes.

"Ok, you have me. Check. What the fuck do you do now?" Simon asked.

"Well, now that you submit, I shall tell you. I have a problem I need you to take care of. I need a…person…eliminated."

"An assassin. You have me, and you want me to kill someone? I thought you could come up with something better than that. What of her?"

"Who? Oh, Amy? She's the guardian of Project S. She has been with us since we cloned the original Simon."

Simon looked at her.

"That would make you over thirty…"

Amy looked away, and walked back into the darkness. Simon turned back around. He was really showing his anger through his face. The man simply smiled.

"She watches over all the Simons to ensure their safety. Especially when they endanger themselves."

Simon stood stunned. He suddenly flashed back to earlier yesterday.

Simon remembered noticing someone in the window in the alley. Infact, that person wore the same cloak as…

"You bastard! You ordered Amy to kill me!" Simon yelled, jumping onto the table and putting the pistol barrel against the man's forehead.

The man simply smiled, and puffed his cigar. He pushed the gun away.

"You have balls, but you won't do it. You can't." he said, chuckling.

"What…do…you…mean?" Simon asked through clenched teeth. He grabbed the pistol with both hands.

"I have what you want."

"What?"

"Nothing. You know, you never even asked my name. Charge in and kill a man without knowing his name?"

"Ok, what's your name? Tell me, mother fucker! Tell me!"

"Robert Ukland. Ex-president of Ukland Enterprises."

Simon lowered his gun.

"Yes, Rachael's father."

"You…you died."

"Oh really? That was a ploy to get away from my annoying bitch of a daughter. I faked my death to keep this organization from her knowledge. But no, you had to meet her and tell her everything."

"How do you know everything?"

"Her necklace. It's a camera."

Simon dropped his gun.

"Yes, I watched you two have sex. I know everything. The necklace also has a health monitor, and we've been hearing a second heartbeat lately."

"She's…"

"Yes. You got my daughter pregnant. This will be the first child of a Simon. Congratulations."

"You plan to experiment on my child, don't you- you bastard!"

Simon raised his gun, but Robert held up a hand.

"Kill me, and they die. You die. You can shoot me right now, but you start Armageddon. Every Simon has a kill switch. You think I'd be so unguarded? As soon as I die, Agent S 12 and 11 die. We have them implanted with instant incineration devices. Kill me, and everyone dies. If I die, so do you. Go ahead. Shoot."

Simon backed up, and smiled an evil grin.

"Fine, but remember, you don't know what you can live through."

Simon fired several times among Robert's stomach, groin, feet, and knees. Robert screamed for Amy, and fell to the floor from his chair.

Amy walked out of the darkness, and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, we have to get out of here."

They both ran to the door. Amy directed him up the stairs. Simon and Amy came out onto a terrace, and it was a dead end. Simon turned, and Amy had a strange gadget in her hands.

"Do you love her? Do you love this…other girl?"

"No. She loves me though."

"Well, I guess you want to get back to the boat, though you won't like what you find." She replied, a tear running down her cheek. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Simon said.

The machine in Amy's hands sent beams out, and Simon felt his mind ripped in two. The separate pieces of reality were themselves torn into thousands of pieces.

· · ·

Simon awoke in a bed, and stood up. This was Rachael's boat. Simon's head pounded with the pain of one who had teleported for the first time.

Simon pulled his gun, and ran up on deck. It was empty, and silent. He ran to the front of the deck, and found Ron's bloody body in three pieces.

There was a click of a hammer against a Berreta chamber behind him, and a grunt. S turned around to see Bobby holding a gun to his face.

Bobby lowered the gun, and raised an eyebrow. Simon smiled, and lowered his gun. He looked away.

"This big mutha' fucka' lookin' like Shaq on crack came and cut Ron in half with one swipe of his big ass fuckin' hand. I guess he got an eye for Jade, seems he grabbed her and ignored the steady stream of bullets I fed him."

"Yeah, that guy. I know him. He doesn't take any damage from normal weapons. You ok?"

"Yeah, fuckin' dandy."

"Robert Ukland is behind this all."

"I know. I kept it from her to keep her mind at ease, but now it doesn't fuckin' matter. My team has been tracking this guy for months, and that's how I met up with Jade. We were s'pose to get her to safety and take this guy ourselves."

"Big fat chance."

"Well, we've backed out anyway. I guess it's up to you to handle it all."

"Thanks, It's gonna be a bitch to get this all settled out."

"What now?"

"We go to Canada."

"Sure, I can have you flown there by personal chopper in under three hours. You don't need ta worry."

"Thanks a lot, Bobby."

"Sure, no problem. Just one question I gotta ask."

"Yeah?"

"Why Canada? Why a freezin' piece of shit wasteland like Canada?"

"That's where I was born."

"Figures."

"Why'd you say that?"

"You're just like Canada."

"White and bleak?"

"No, cold and empty and desolate."

Continued Next Issue…

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