Liquid Gear 1 (Patreon)

Liquid Gear - Or ‘Where is the fucking instructions for this big ass robot?!?’ (Metal Gearverse, Liquid!SI)

I have a twin. Or used to have one.

At first, this introduction could mean nothing, but once my identity is made clear that should make some sense. It was the 70s, and the Cold War was shifting to an end. Sure, the Soviet Union was bound to be alive until the mid to late 80s, but the backstage context mattered a lot-

I was reborn in the Metal Gearverse. In a few words, things were already shitty in the backstage. The Patriots (currently known as Cipher) were quite active, Big Boss was still at large and Venom Snake was getting prepared.

To a normal human, things were going to fuck up a lot in the next few decades, but I was… not normal. And I was already involved in this mess of a world we live in. It was 1972, the room was too sterile to be a normal hospital, and I was sharing the cradle with someone else. A fellow baby, a twin, and we had a mother.

Shoulder-length blonde hair, caring eyes, view on her cleavage.

Hello Eva.

Things started to make sense, dots connecting as I realized what was going on as more days went by. I wasn’t reborn as any normal babies, I was a certain villain from MGS whose existence was used and abused through the entirety of the MGS timeline.

Eli ‘Liquid’ Snake. Well, Snake was not my last name, but considering how tied to the family it was as a codename, it was fair to say it could be seen as that too.

I was one of the two products generated by the Les Enfants Terribles Project. I was the clone from Big Boss that was created through the ‘Super Baby Theory’ and all the eugenic crap behind the process. To make things funnier, I was meant to last ‘a single game’ despite having the Dominant Genes, so I really didn’t have a high survival chance to rely upon by canon events.

Still, life was not unkind to me. One thing that had severely crippled Liquid as a child was a genuine emotional issue that made him rebellious and stubborn. I suppose that’s not exactly genetics at play considering the oppressive setting for the project

It was unsettling for me, who was a mere adult, and it got even more unnerving as my baby brother was removed from me and from the project entirely. ‘David’ was not meant to be worthwhile keeping around due to him getting the ‘recessive genes and thus being weak’.

The project itself had small funds from Cipher, Major Zero having all reasons to just use me as a bargaining chip to force Big Boss to not betray him again. Which was stupid considering the betrayal the guy felt over this project being revealed to him.

I was born from him, but I wasn’t his son. And it was fine by me.

After all, that notion was irrelevant as I focused on my survival. I studied, I trained, and I tried my hardest to not be too perfect. I had to recreate the events of canon that would allow me to escape Cipher’s grasp.

So, I was an ‘average student and an even duller element in exercises’. Then again, it wasn’t too difficult to act as an idiot considering how young I was and how tiny my body was before I got to ten.

It was 1978 when Zero had me relocated from England to Africa, trying to employ his contacts in Angola to keep me sheltered as he tried to find a solution to the drain the project put to his funds.

The place I was now subjected to was less clean, less controlled and… easier to escape in due time. It took me months of looking around, studying the pattern of guards and the overall compound’s map but… I was out by 1979. It was within Canon’s own limitations and I was there just in time to draw a big decision.

After securing myself a Militia, I had to either keep around and let canon happen or…

Or I could troll hard and get my ass moving rather than let Cipher use Venom Snake to catch me again.

The second option was clearly a winner, but I had to focus on the real gripe of creating a militia. At this point, Angola was in a civil war between the MPLA and UNITA, the socialists and the nationalists.

While that shouldn’t matter much, the truth is that child soldiers were a thing, and what I had to do to get some troops of my own was embrace some war crimes and ‘clear up some camps’.

Sounds difficult? It would be if not for two things: 1) I have been trained for combat and this field experience of running away from my handlers gave me some confidence in my skills and 2) I had stuff with me.

A M1911, some rounds for it, and a flash grenade.

I started with a small base and I found out how, even at seven, I was a menace for any military officer. Murdering the guards and the soldiers was surprisingly easy- on a moral level. I think something was done to render me a sociopath or worse. I mean, I could still value life, but I was acting a bit too calmly around corpses.

That was an interesting thought for later and I ended up retrieving two Angolan kids that had yet to be ‘converted’ to the cause but that had already lost their parents during this bloody conflict.

They were nervous, hungry, and thus willing to listen to a fellow kid that was quick to feed them with food from the supplies of the camp after I was done killing off the guards and the camp leader. I had been taught Portuguese, which was enough to get the attention and some basic understanding with the locals.

They were not prepared with the use of guns, and I knew I couldn’t rely on them acting as my support just yet during these first few days of operations. The three other camps we raided were filled with captured children with some adults too.

Those with families were let go, but orphans were instantly recruited. More supplies, more guns, more food, plenty of ideas to rely on, but I finalized what I had to do- starting with establishing a base.

Angola was big- bigger than anything known about it, but I had to be careful where to establish a base of operations. It had to be covered in foliage and… I just decided to steal a base deep into the jungles.

It was secure enough from any potential animal-related troubles, its warehouse was big enough to store the truck I was using to carry around my militia, and the facilities allowed for five times the current size of my troops.

I had my office, I had devices to help me establish a chain of command… Yes, I was going to do something big from this. I was going to… fuck Cipher/Patriots.

But first, I had to do something about Angola. Some of the nasty plots unfolded here and I could technically prevent those by acting before Cipher and XOF started to cause issues.

In particular, if I found a way to handle the vocal cord parasites, I may be able to avoid some long-term issues that could fuck me over.

…

Time to raid an Oilfield!

—-----d-d-d-d-d—---

AN

Liquid… the creator of Memes is here! Ah yes, the story involving daddy issues, unwanted bromances (and wanted ones), some dumbfuckery involving war crimes, and a lot of tomfoolery regarding Metal Gears! This is about to get insane!