Gloria Smasher by SignlessAcolyte

Words: 17k+

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46207912/chapters/116330506#workskin

( What if Gloria had taken Adam Smashers role in the lore?

And what if I decided to go *ENTIRELY* Degenerate with the idea?

Warning! David/Gloria will be *prevalent* throughout the entirety of this.)

Prologue-Family

Chapter Text

Gloria Martinez was good at her job. Nah… she couldn't even call it a job really. Jobs involved some sort of annoyance and subservience. She'd had plenty of jobs before she took the Big One and got made into a bundle of meat all those years ago. All that fucking time in the cartels, then in New York and the Army, she'd always felt like she was doing jobs.

Now though?

Now she got to indulge all her brutal and violent instincts, blowing up the meat into tiny chunks. She was basically Arasaka's attack dog, but that was fine by her. She reveled in the blood, the melting chrome, the rotting flesh.

It was pure heaven to her.

What wasn't, was some spindly little shit telling her that her eggs had been used without her knowledge nor permission.

When Arasaka had first approached her when her boys had dragged her useless meat sack back to New York, she'd had to agree to a contract that essentially put her in their employ for the next 100 years. Like that was a fucking problem. She was their attack dog for the next 100 years, and she got access to ungodly amounts of cash, chrome, anything and everything she could ever want.

All she had to do was sell her soul to the Corp.

Hah! Like a soul was all that useful. Now, just cuz she'd been a bag of meat and agony, didn't mean that she hadn't had a few stipulations.

One, being that they had to keep all her parts. Everything they could salvage. Organs, skin samples, and of course her ovaries and shit. She didn't even want kids, but that was her choice to make, and nobody else got to fucking make it for her.

"Ya wanna fucking repeat yourself meat?"

She growled, towering over the little man in her full combat body. She hadn't changed out of it into a Gemini in… shit how long? Last time had to have been when she took Michiko to bed on her 18th birthday. There was no sign of femininity except for the silhouette of the combat model FBC.

Instead she looked like a monster made manifest, made metal.

"I-i just wanted to inf-inform you that the samples were progressing nicely! We have the first subject already gestated and woken up."

If she didn't need him to show her exactly what these fucks had put together (with her meat!) he would already be a smear upon the walls.

She leaned forward, her 9 foot tall form looming over the tech, her eyes glowing a low deadly red as her voice synthesizer growled.

"Show me."

Oh sure. The meat hesitated, tried to push it off towards someone else, eventually even mentioned that that was beyond his clearance level.

That was alright. An impact launcher slowly unveiling itself from her arm made her point clearer than any speech she could give.

Following the sweating and stinking peon into the elevator, she noticed that they were going far deeper down than she expected. This was beyond just the standard top secret floors.

This was going into the actual fucking basement near the Mikoshi access node. She rolled her eyes as she noticed that the tech was still trembling in his fucking boots.

Pussy

"So, you said they were making… subjects hmm? What for?"

She rumbled in that staticy way that always made the meat feel off kilter. Pansies couldn't stand a little atonal rumble coming from something with a brain like a human. Heh.. made em think the Terminator was after them.

"Well, I um. The scope of the project is beyond my abilit-"

She stopped his stammering by placing a metallic hand upon the meat's shoulder… and slowly squeezing down until he began to whimper in pain.

"Try."

"I-I-I think they're trying to make a new you!"

He whimpered, clawing at the metal hand digging into the meat of his shoulder to no avail.

She sneered.

"Ain't no one around like me idiota. I'm special."

She released him and he shied away from her, tentatively rolling his shoulder.

"Of.. shit… of course ma'am. All I was told was that we were making sure that if anything were to happen to you, that Arasaka would have… alternatives."

She sneered. Of course the corps would be pushing to have a replacement for her. She was over 60 years through the contract, and they were having to come to terms with the fact that one day, Smasher would no longer be theirs to command. Honestly, even when the time came, she had no real intention to quit working for Arasaka. They kept her in gear, in cyberware, and so so much more.

It was a pretty sweet gig, so why wouldn't she re-up?

Well, she planned to renegotiate the contract of course, but still! Fucking higher ups and their bullshit. God, she remembered meeting Saburo for the first time. He was already old back in 2015. Now the decrepit corpse was still kicking around. Still holding onto that Japanese Bushido bullshit or whatever nonsense.

Couldn't deny that he had the world by the balls though. She could respect that.

As the lift stopped, it opened to a stark white laboratory, and she couldn't help rolling her eyes. These fucking egghead's she swore. They always had to go for the cliche science aesthetic. Put a splash of color up for fucks sake!

Heh. Maybe she could help them with that. Walking through the lab, led by the tech in front of her, she kept her eye out. Most of the shit she was seeing made no sense to her. But she recognized herself in the images. Her before she'd gotten blown up.

Something about… genetic resistance or adaptation?

Shit, she didn't know. Bunch of fucking eggspeak.

But eventually, they came to an offshoot of the original lab and… ugh. So this is what they meant.

In the middle of the room, (still fucking white by the way!) There was a crib. And in the crib was a baby. Ugh. Fucking brats. She hated kids even when she was one.

"... So this is it huh? This was your brilliant fucking plan? You make some Frankenstein's brat out of my meat, and train him up somewhere to act like a Me, when he gets older?"

The tech sputtered.

"Uh, well Subject Alpha wa-"

She groaned.

"Dios Mio, you fuckers even gave the little shit some fancy ass fucking title? Bullshit."

Welp…. Time to make her perspective clear.

"Thanks carne... I'll take it from here."

The impact launcher fluidly unfolded itself out faster than average blink, and..!

Boom

The techie was blown into a splattering of red, sludgy pink and more coating the walls with some actual fucking color.

" Ah…. Much better."

She mused as she turned to the cradle, which surprisingly, didn't hold a squalling baby. No, instead, the kid seemed to still be napping. Heh. Deep sleeper. She had to get rid of that when she was younger when she started growing tits. Fuckers around liked to try and get a feel or more.

Shaking off that little blip of amusement, she brought up the impact launcher again pointing it at the meat in the crib.

Think they can just replace me? Make me standard fucking issue? Not fucking likely! Not in thi-

The meat cut off her internal dialogue by waking up. And as it looked upward.. instead of a squall, or a squeal… it laughed. It smiled.

" Huh… you don't got much for survival instincts do you, you little meatball?

She mused as she pushed the launcher closer, willing to give the thing a total annihilation. No pain.

And that was when her life changed for good.

He grabbed her finger.

She couldn't even comprehend as she looked at the baby grip her hand, looking like he was having the time of his life.

He is… kind of cute.

Well of course he was cute! He was her kid!

… he was… hers.

Yeah… yeah. The kid was hers.

Arasaka didn't get to fucking control what was hers. Not like this. They broke fucking contract, so this? This would be her penalty fee.

She withdrew the impact launcher as she made her decision,the weapon folding back into her forearm.

Carefully… ever so Carefully, she picked him up and held him like she remembered what babies were supposed to be held like. In that moment she became painfully aware that she was made of hard metal and sharp edges.

Something she would normally be very pleased about. But now…

I'll need to pull an old Gemini out… maybe get a new one too.

As she walked out of the lab, she never realized just how warmly, just how soft her thoughts were as she tickled her son.

"You'll need a better name… how about… David, mijo?"