Standing above the carnage of the battlefield, he looks down with the same expression on his face - that of nothing. Chest heaving, legs shaking, He stands motionless, blood dripping from his claws and coating his hammer. His mind then returns to what brought him here, the concrete lab building in which he was created, with the low, vaulted cielings and the cage like feeling. The creating of many more, monsters and fighters, like him, and then the attack. Claws trembling, he remembers the aliens bursting through the concrete walls and shredding his helpless teammates and friends. Then the attempts by the military to destroy them as well. How he loathed them both. He remembers breaking into the weapon room, and getting into everything. Attatching robotic body parts and the battle gear, then his hand getting stuck in the adamantium, grimacing in pain, and then feeling it tear into his hand like a fire spreading through his arm. He managed to pull his hand out, but the claws, shiny and perfect, were already there. Grabbing a battle hammer, light though powerful he left the room. He saw a rocket launch for him, and ducks into a side door. Suddenly, he remembered the core reactor was behind the weapon room, and frantically he hammered at the wall, trying to get away. The wall burst open into a mine shaft, which he used to run away. Near the end, killing the people who had created him in this hellish place. Scrambling for his life, he had made it to where he stood upon the hillside, alone. He smells the Uranium explosion, its deafening roar still in his ears. The ground still shook from the aftershock, the sky was clouding faster than the stiff wind could blow it away. Then, he hears a hum, then a clatter of metal machinery. Looking to the left, he sees military squadrons coming to secure the area, and looking to the right, more alien ships have yet to land. So, he decided to do what any hateful villian monster would do.