Given Name: Unknown

Age: 38

Last Known Location: UCI Trauma Center, Cali

Fighting Style: Rampage

Weapon of Choice: MG. any class

Favorite Quote: "Live and let live"

Comments: Subject was prototype for next line in homeland protection. After many failed test, project was canceled. We are looking into how subject survived.

Subject # 006719 (aka) Gen. More Dead Than Alive

In 1998, General Lance Davis was en route to a top security meeting with his attaché when he was involved in a near fatal car accident. His vehicle was struck head on by a tractor trailer – his only salvation was being thrown from his Jeep as it exploded into flames. Unconscious and crushed beyond recognition, he was flown to the University of California at Irvine’s (UCI) Trauma Center where he underwent 13 hours of surgery at the hands of the University’s top physicians. They conducted surgical skin grafts to replace the charred tissues; conducted heart and liver transplants to substitute his crushed organs; and replaced his shattered bones with steel and titanium implants, including his ribcage to prevent his lungs from collapsing. Though none of the surgeons believed he would live through the procedures, Davis did survive and was placed on life support. A nameless and faceless John Doe accident victim, Davis lingered there for 12 days in a coma.

Realizing that one of their own was missing, the military soon came calling to the UCI Trauma Center. Though physically unrecognizable, the military was certain from dental records that the John Doe victim was in fact Lance Davis. The very same Lance Davis that was to give them a briefing the morning of his accident. And the very same Lance Davis that held some exceedingly vital military information within his skull that no one else had been privy to other than his military attaché. Too bad his emissary had been burned to crisp inside the Jeep. All that was left of him were some very small pieces that were downstairs in a body bag within the morgue labeled John Doe 2. Pity. A search of the burned remnants of Davis’ vehicle only revealed the melted handle of Davis’ briefcase that had held the files he was to share at the briefing. An even greater pity. Rumor had it that the news Davis’ planned on sharing the morning of his accident would not be received well by the commander in chief at Black Mesa, and that Davis was going to advise they abandon their current mission. Another soldier developing a conscience. In the eyes of the very quiet men from Black Mesa that stared at Davis through the glass of the intensive care unit, that was the greatest pity of all.

Despite his treatment at UCI, Davis had lost too much tissue in the explosion and as with most burn victims, his body continued to leak vital fluids faster than IVs or his own system could reproduce. Infection of his seared flesh had also begun to set in. It would only be a matter of time before his heart would stop beating altogether. As his heart, fluids, and immune system continued to decline, one physician remarked that Davis was already more dead than alive. Given his bleak prognosis and the military’s interest in the case, UCI willingly turned Davis over to their care. Besides, no doctor at UCI wanted to answer to the military when Davis’ inevitable death occurred. During the flight to Black Mesa, the medical team joked about his now grotesque appearance and quickly dubbed him General More Dead Than Alive. Besides, the human carnage that was strapped into the helicopter’s stretcher bore no resemblance to what had once been General Lance Davis. The jokes stopped when nine minutes prior to landing at the top-secret Black Mesa facility, all vital signs for Davis ceased.

The medics hastened Davis’ body from the heliport and into the bowels of Black Mesa, where physicians immediately began the task of resuscitating him. Although still considered experimental, by using synthetic and self replicating blood plasma cells and skin grafts, they were able to effectively seal Davis’ more serious wounds within a few hours. His vascular system could once again retain fluids, and although with the assistance of a machine that bypassed his heart and pumped blood for him, red blood cells and oxygen were once again flowing to his brain.

Recovery was slow and Davis remained comatose for eight weeks. Once he was stable enough to survive without life support, the physicians began retrofitting what human portions of Davis remained with automaton prototypes. The sheer mass of these enhancements required a stronger artificial heart simply to sustain his new body volume. But these procedures served a dual function. The first was to ensure that whatever knowledge Davis held within his gray matter would not be lost due to circumstances of human frailty, for his information was vital to the success of Black Mesa’s mission. The second purpose was to guarantee General More Dean Than Alive (as he had become known to the entire medical staff) would take an active leadership role in Black Mesa’s security and promote their biological and nuclear programs. Whatever his opinions of the mission had been prior to the accident, General More Dead Than Alive would literally belong life and limb to Black Mesa. The commander had seen to that.

Davis was still semi-conscious in a medical bed on Level 5 when the attack on Black Mesa began. The attack would ultimately destroy much of the facility and raze the entire biomedical and nuclear research laboratories. Oddly, while there was no one to tell him where he was upon regaining consciousness, he somehow knew precisely where he was. Through a haze he could make out the sounds of buildings within the complex collapsing, and heard the chain reaction of detonations that desecrated Black Mesa in one fail swoop. He laid and listened to alarms sounding endlessly – alarms no one seemed to respond to. Further in the distance he heard gunfire, and could make out human voices, and these sounds peaked and ebbed for at least two days, yet he saw no one.

While physically stable, his body remained in a weakened state of atrophy that kept him confined to his bed. During periods of silence he struggled to recall the events leading up to the car accident, and the collision flashed before his eyes. Though he felt absolutely no pain, Davis then thought to look down to see what damage the accident might have wrought upon his body. His mind couldn’t conceive what his eyes revealed. He could not recognize what lay before him. Rather than smooth pink flesh, Davis saw roughened green skin that looked to him to be the color of decay. Yet it was almost transparent, and muscles and veins bulged under the surface that certainly didn’t belong to him.

He gradually began to try to move the strange appendages and found it easier than he had anticipated. For he was still hoping this was some kind of nightmare, and that perhaps this wasn’t really his body after all. Like a mathematical equation that one works step by step on a blackboard, the facts began to coalesce. He was in Black Mesa. The accident. He was going to give a briefing prior to the accident, ordering that all biomedical research at the facility halt given the inhumane nature of the experiments on human subjects. He knew the commander at Black Mesa would argue against Davis’ position vehemently, and Davis even suspected he would lose the argument.

But it was still his duty to brief the top brass about what was going on at their trillion dollar facility, and he hadn’t been afraid to go over the commander’s head. Yeah, as Davis coerced his legs into moving, it seemed an awful lot like the commander had gotten the last laugh. Then again, with Black Mesa literally falling down around his ears, was that really the case? Obviously, someone else aside from him hadn’t been too happy about what had been going on at Black Mesa either. And while he never thought he would condone the destruction of a government facility, Davis looked down again at his flesh and heard another series of explosions that made him smile. He looked down at his feet and willed his toes to move again. Within an hour he was able to sit up and at least move his limbs. Even the chart he’d found clipped to the end of his bed said “General More Dead Than Alive.” Oh yeah, the commander definitely had a sense of humor alright.

Later that night Davis heard movement within the rubble of his building and then outside of his door. Still too weakened to fend off his callers, he remained seated on his bed and prepared his mind for the worst. Expecting to see armed guards, he couldn’t hide his surprise when two apocalyptic figures entered. One female stood brandishing a crossbow that almost appeared to be from the medieval era, while the male accompanying her wielded a state of the art kinetic laser gun. Though modesty had never been his game, it struck him as odd that neither one of the characters seemed shocked by his appearance. Before the situation could progress any further, General More Dead Than Alive promptly asked them what he could do to help them finish off Black Mesa. While the man said nothing, a faint smile appeared on the lips of the woman, who slowly lowered her crossbow.

And so it began, General’s introduction to Order Thru Chaos…..