Lou Hart

A young, fit man, with a vicious scar across his chest and cold, blue eyes radiating indifference to your plight.


Lou Hart was created in the laboratory of a Megacorp from the body of deceased Corporate soldier. The body had had its heart removed for study and the Promethean who created Lou replaced this with an artificial heart that does not beat. Lou took his name from the chart attached to the tank from which he was born. At the top were written two words: Lieutenant: Heart.

The remainder of the laboratory was destroyed, strewn with dissected corpses – deceased soldiers taken from other tanks but also scientists and guards, some of whom seemed to have been alive when the process began. Blood and other fluids covered every surface except one. In the centre of the room, a single stainless steel table had been carefully wiped clean and a small, leather-bound journal rested on it.

In it was his creator’s tale. An ancient Nepri without a tongue, the Promethean had come to the corporation’s attention as they studied Prometheans, seeking to understand and replicate their powers to create supersoldiers. Several young Prometheans had fallen victim to the corporate capture squads but the human hunters were no match for the ancient one – instead leading him back to their nest.

Here, he morbidly examined all of the living soldiers and then the scientists, to see whether the Corporation had succeeded in creating anything beyond humanity. Finding nothing, he turned his attention to the corpse tanks. There, the body of a young soldier with its heart torn out triggered within him a deep longing to create rather than destroy. As he worked, he set down his journal all he thought his creation would need to know and that he could not say.


Eyes open. Blurred movement through water dark with blood and worse.
Chest heaves, sucking water. Panic. Thrashing. Bonds torn.
Hands clench to fists, skin blue and wrinkled before eyes. Punch forward.
Glass cracks.
Womb bursts.
I am born.
Try to speak. Water gurgles.
Blink against water and light.
Gentle hands on back.
Water flows from lungs. Coughing.
Heart shudders. Begins to whir.
I am alive.
Look up. Deep blue eyes look down.
Fingers brush hair from face.
“Father?” Croaking.
Content smile. Silent departure.
I am alone.

Lou Hart

Deus ex Machina mbwelsh