Hi! Before I start, I'd just like to say that this is using one of my original characters' backstories, so a few things may not make complete sense here but they probably will in the book featuring this character, if I ever get around to writing it. lmao im 17 and have too many things to do. Also i know 'The Corporation' is a very boring name for an evil company. Im working on it ok

That night, a figure appeared at the building where **it** was being kept. How foolish of the Corporation to store **it** so close to where he had last been seen. After all, they had designed **it** for him. As if he'd ever join them.

The guards were easy to deal with; clearly, they weren't high up enough to have received training against attacks on the subconcious. The figure wondered what they were dreaming of. If only he could have such an experience as he had granted to them... but there was no point trying. He knew he could not.

The halls were cold and empty, devoid of life, with just his footsteps keeping him company. It smelt like a laboratory - the figure didn't know how he knew that. He'd not had a reason to go to one yet in his short life so far. How many days had it been since his 'creation' again? It didn't matter. What mattered was what he was here for - that which belonged to him. With **it**, he could finally have his own identity.

Of course, **it** would be in the deepest chamber in the building. After all, the Corporation had been putting a lot of resources into this project. The figure wondered why they were so confident he'd ever join them. His serious mood was lightened slightly by the cheerful music of the lift descending further and further. Floor 50, Floor 10, Floor -20, Floor -40. And finally, the last floor. The one not on the list, as the display could not show that symbol. He was here at last. Two more guards were waiting. Higher credentials and more training. No matter. They never stood a chance.

He reached the chamber where **it** was at last, and stopped to stare at it. The armour was exactly as the blueprints had claimed, futuristic metal plating emblazoned fully in shining, dark red like some kind of superhero. It occurred to him as he put each piece of it on that he was that superhero. Red Kite returned to the roof and spread his new wings, ready to fly at long last.