About the same, actually. Meaning great for me!

Bullets fly through the air, all aimed at you. An RPG is shot at you, surging through the air on a trail of fire. A few grenades are lobbed at you and roll to a stop at your feet. All at once, you are assaulted by bullets striking your body and explosions going off all around you. The world is a sea of fire and steel, bullets and shrapnel pelting you as explosive heat rolls over your body. The room is thunder and sound as you are engulfed in the projectiles and fiery aftermath of the explosions of grenades and missiles. By the end of everything, the entire room is filled with smoke and dust and nobody can see anything for a little bit.

But then the smoke clears and what they see is a scorched and battered floor and walls, holes now blasted into the cement in places where explosives had gone off. They see that and you, completely and totally unscathed save for dirt on your skin and debris caught in your hair. You aren't even singed from the fiery explosions, looking no worse for the wear. If it wasn't for the fact that you were completely naked and still touched by blood and gore from the guard you'd decapitated along with dirt and debris, you'd look completely at ease.

You actually were at ease, though, and it showed as you grinned to the guards who were now frantically reloading their weapons and trying to ready for themselves for a second ****. "You guys all done now? Good. Guess that means it's my turn, huh?", you call out in a tone that's almost one of friendly challenge as you start towards the hasty barricade that the guards had set up before you, moving at a jog towards them.

What followed could only be called a slaughter. The guards, for all their weaponry and ballistic armor, were no match for you. Compared to you, they were like rag dolls armed with BB guns. From the moment you smashed through their barricade as though it were made of twigs, you were overpowering them. To their credit, though, they never stopped trying to fight you. They tried to bring their weapons to bear on you, shooting off bursts that bounced off of you before you reached out and tore their arms off with little effort and proceeded to beat them to **** with their own severed limbs.

You, feeling nearly omnipotent, reveled in the **** you dealt out. You felt powerful, completely and totally untouchable, and these guards had the misfortune of being the first people you could exhibit and exult in that power with. You were high on your own strength, knowing what it felt like to be one of the meta-humans that became super-villains or super-heroes in the news. As you proceeded to slaughter the guards, grabbing one and then beating his friend to **** with him as though he were a human-shaped club, you couldn't help but laugh in a giddy way, like you were a child at play instead of a living engine of destruction. And, as you tore men apart with your bare hands, snapping bones like matchsticks and tearing flesh like paper, you truly did feel like this was nothing more than a game for you. You were playing with your new toy, the new strength you'd been given, and you were enjoying every moment of it.

Unfortunately, your playmates did not last long and, as you stomped on a guard as though he were a bug, crushing his midsection beneath your sole with a sickening crunch of bone and wet splash of gore, you found you were out of guards. You were left with a ruined barricade, twisted and torn weapons and just as twisted and torn bodies all around you. Your body was slick with blood that dripped from you as though you'd immersed yourself in a pool of the crimson substance and, truth be told, it wasn't far off from the truth. As much blood as you'd spilled right now, you could imagine you could have filled a pool with it.

You grinned to yourself as you had that thought, but your moment of mirth was broken by an unexpected but familiar voice.

"Truly remarkable! Amazing! He exceeds all expectations! Did you see how quickly and easily he tore through more than a dozen trained mercenaries? They were like children to him. They were nothing.", the voice of the doctor that had kidnapped you in the first place came from behind you and you turned to find the doctor flanked by a couple of other scientists and a few more guards that looked much more nervous than the doctor did coming in from a set of double doors that had been beyond the barricade.

"Oh, hey, Doc. I was lookin' for you. Wanted to thank ya for makin' me all sorts o' bad-ass here. It's pretty nice.", you said to him, casually as you could please, as you began to step towards him, "I also wanted to crush your head with my bare hand like it was a grape since you basically killed me and threw me in a pit of dead bodies. Think I'll take care of that now."

"I think not. Stand down, Specimen 34-G.", the doctor says, sounding smug and confident as he orders you to stop.

You, of course, don't stop as you slowly continue to saunter towards him.

He looks a bit perturbed as he repeats the order, "Stand down, Specimen 34-G! Stand down now!"

You don't stand down even a little bit and the doctor's confident air starts to waver a bit more.

"S-stand down! Why isn't his control conditioning coming into effect, dammit!?", he curses at one of the other doctors, a nervous looking guy who swallows hard before answering.

"H-he died on the table, Doctor! His heart stopped and his brain activity had ceased! W-we thought he was dead so we didn't take the time to put him under the mental conditioning! Why do that to a corpse?", the younger scientist explained with anxiety obvious in his tone.

"Well, he's not a damned corpse now, is he?!", the Doctor yelled, pushing the young scientist away before turning his attention back to you as you had reached him and were starting to reach out for him to make good on your words of crushing his skull in your powerful hand, "Wait! W-wait! Don't do anything hasty! I-I can make you an offer! A very lucrative offer! Just hear me out!"