Warrior in Red
The existence of such a figure was reminiscent to the Old World and forgotten times. A soldier who defended the weak and protected the innocent against harm, appearing suddenly on a gleaming steed with shining weapon raised in avenging glory, he would strike like a hero from tales of yore. These sightings were not the rampant imaginations of those dreaming for less dire times. The Red Warrior was fact.
A rounded, silver helmet covered half his head, dropping down a cloth coif over his neck. A bladed crest rose from the center, arching backwards. A breastplate of similar make hung over his chest and shoulders, donned over a tunic, colored as his namesake, tied off with a long, white belt that hung loosely. Massive gauntlets covered his hands as well as most of his arms. Similar pieces shielded his legs. Everywhere else, arms, legs, and face, was red.
He wielded a massive sword, a straight blade with no point. Thick and heavy, the Crimson Edge was designed for chopping whatever laid in its path in twine. His steed, a steel horse, was of sleek design, a necessity since it was more armor than vehicle. His body became utterly unreachable when charging it into battle, an aspect he carried by himself when they were entered.
In the Dead World, few knew of morals or the Knights' Code, but this was his way and his life. In a land ruled by wicked ways, this left him little to befriend, but it mattered not for it offered him much to test his skill against. As a good warrior, the sport of battle was always a good contest for him to prove himself in, whether or not his adversary felt the same.
The Warrior stood apart from the rest of the bleak world as if he did not belong. This could not be more true. How he came to be was slightly unorthodox, even in a world where monsters are reborn in human bodies. Red was not born, however. He was created.
During the seven year absence of new life, a specialized group of scientists and occultists worked to engineer a new life force. Not only was the continuation of life needed but people to carry it forth. With numbers severely reduced and little moral weight stopping them, the steps were taken: making life. Their efforts were all futile except for Project Alpha One: Red and only then. Project aI:R was the only one of several experiments to successfully cultivate a life force and become alive. Coincidentally, it was at this point that the breath of life returned to the planet.
The life they created was not human, but this was intended. Creating more of humanity at this point would not have been efficient. Resource beings were needed, workers and fighters, to carry humanity aloft, as well as to remove flaws from the procedure. Its genetic make was completely reorganized to maximize all potentials: strength, speed, and sense. Other alterations were made to keep it identified as inhuman, learning from countless worst case scenarios from past media presented on those who played the part of the gods. These mistakes would not be made again. To start, it was completely hairless. Its face lacked most all definition, even a nose or lips. Its brows were raised and protruded over blank, white eyes while its cranium pointed towards the back. Fingers and toes were reduced in number while increased in size. Marks were permanently imprinted onto its skin, a Roman numeral one onto its left bicep and a capital alpha over its forehead, dropping down over its eyes. To complete the difference, its skin was changed to its namesake, red. Most importantly of all, it was an it. No chances were being taken with the project replacing humanity as a dominate species.
Alpha I was trained and honed since its creation in all respects, physically and mentally, to truly test if it was as good as human. As anticipated, it far exceeded the limitations of man, but then it went further. In the few times it was not being drilled vigorously, Alpha I was permitted to read from the institutions impressive library. Its education was thorough already, but this allowed its creators to monitor how its ability to think for itself and further understand their creation. An uncanny interest was held in pieces from the Middle Ages, particularly sagas of knights and heroic deeds. This fact was utilized for its training, deepening the interest.
Before Alpha I's training could be completed, a roaming band of heavily armed scavengers attacked the establishment in a raid, laying waste to it. Over a hundred were killed before they retreated. Despite this, Alpha I's massacre could not save any of the scientists. All of the raiders were eventually hunted down over the years and brought to justice, as Red saw it. It was the quest the experiment felt it was given to prove itself. Once this was accomplished, it made sure such horrors would not happen to anyone else so long as it could stop them.
Red's soul was that of a hero. Born unto every age, a champion would always rise up to defeat evil, conquer oppression, and bring back peace. It was the spirit of a crusader for all that was ever good and just. Years into Alpha I's plight, a passing benevolent spirit saw the passion within Red's heart and passed onto to it her blessing to its cause, granting it in the way of enchanted weaponry.
It has been called the Red Warrior, but not choice. Its garments were not meant to be the same color of its skin, however, with the amount of blood that has stained them and his blade, the motif was unified.
