A-punk appears to the common folk to be an average man. He enjoys listening to an old Pink Floyd album. He watches How I Met Your Mother. He orders Chinese take-out after an exhausting day at work. But unbeknownst to most, four years ago, he was given an offer that changed everything in his life. Unemployed, and living off of checks from his mother, A-punk was picking up spaghetti noodles in a dollar store when a mysterious grey-faced man in a black suit started towards him.

"A-punk," the man said, "I know you've been struggling. Consider this." The man handed him a business card detailing the offer. Before A-punk could even question it, the man was gone.

The card read "DO NOTHING. GET PAID $30K A WEEK. CALL (337) 278-5086 IF INTERESTED." A-punk jumped in his car and headed home, laughing at the strange experience. Opening the front door to his apartment, he thought, this is an obvious scam, but he thought he'd at least call. The moment he pulled out his cell phone, the man appeared before him. "Come with me," the man commanded. Stunned, A-punk remained motionless. At that instant, the man placed his hand on A-punk's shoulder and they were in pitch-blackness. A-punk was petrified; unable to move, unable to even comprehend what had happened. He heard a door open behind him, and when he turned around, the light was blinding. He was handed a large stack of money, and he heard in the suited man's voice "Show up here-- 955 Slaystack Avenue-- every day, Monday through Friday, and there will be plenty more of that."

That was 4 years ago, and he's shown up everyday since. At first, he was only in it for the money. He'd hate when they would put objects in the room just to trip him up. But after a few months, he started to notice his senses changing. He could feel the presence of the brick they had placed in the center of the room. As time went on, these sonar abilities became more accurate. He could pinpoint the location of any object of any shape or size. Realizing he was being tested, he began calling out the location of the object, its shape, and sometimes even small sentences of raised text placed on the object. When he'd call out these objects, a voice over the intercom would say something like "Very good, thank you, A-punk".

Today, A-punk got in his car to go to the warehouse that held the little pitch-black room he worked in all day. But when he arrived at the warehouse, the grey faced man was waiting for him. He had an assignment for A-punk. An assignment that would put him beside thousands of other test subjects in a war that was to be waged... thousands of feet below the surface of Mars.