~Those Who Were Lost~ - Additional IC

Detective Inspector Aaron Stern silently barged his way through the crowds that had gathered in the Archives' main lobby, flashing his police identification to anybody who tried to protest. Today was the big day - the day of the launch down to the Planet Eos, which looked set to become their new home. People didn't know much about it, only that just over a hunder people, made up of talented volunteers and teen convicts, were about to take a revolutionary trip. So naturally almost everybody had turned up to watch the Archive's big screen on the launch, and all local police, including him (though he didn't see why), were needed to help control the masses.


Frankly, Stern didn't care. Sure, his daughter was among that number. She was old enough to take care of herself, and it was her fault she'd broken the law anyway. He'd say he trusted her to do the right thing, but really he hadn't given it much thought at all. No, all her embroilment would do is prompt his colleagues into a parade of false sympathy.


"Sorry, my apologies, ever so sorry, excuse us!" Eli was quickly running out of synonyms for 'sorry' in his attempts to apologise for Stern's barging. He's managing an impressive number, Stern noted as finally they reached the rest of their staff. Eli pulled him aside. "For Pete's sake, Aaron, why didn't you just walk around them?"


"Conveniance sake," Stern shrugged, "I thought maybe getting them annoyed at the law would shut them up a bit." The crowd's drone was giving him a headache. It was like one of those work parties which Eli had forced him to go to, where the other constables would blabber on and on and on about stuff that nobody cared about.


"You didn't have to come."


"Kaya wanted to show me something, and sadly she's my wife, so I can't just dismiss her. Besides, don't you know how much I love communal events like this? Look at them all." He scowled over at the crowds. "They're so disjointed it's making me ill. Can't they just all behave and stand in a nice, neat line?"


"Surprised to see you here, Sherlock." Oh joys; Kai Hamuda, world's funniest comedian, constable and sadly colleague of Stern.


"Hamuda. Surprised to see you've not started your stand-up career."


Hamuda's attempts to hide his annoyance was far from successful. "Stepped down from your high-horse of puzzle solving and come to help us with the dirty work, have you?"


"Oh, of course not. I'd rather not rob you of duties that suit you so well. As for puzzles... well, actually, I brought a rather good one with me."


"Oh yeah?" Haruda snarled.


"Oh yeah. A little puzzle called 'How to humiliate Hamuda in public. Alas, seems I've already solved it." He nodded over to the other side of the hall, where several other officers were calling the hapless constable to their aide in breaking up a minor scuffle that had broken out. Baring his teeth, Haruda clutched his hat and dashed off.


Content, Stern lounged against the far wall, wishing he'd brought something to do.

You guys have a lot of freedom here! If you have your own ideas then feel free to go ahead and start them, but if you're a little stuck head here to the archives to watch the take-off. Ideally we should try and make our characters meet up somehow. Cheers!


@Ozerath @Agent Nine
 

It was a special day, today. She knew because she'd been paying attention to the floating announcements and brief news stories that had plagued every television screen in her sector, and had been counting the days down, sometimes by the hour and, on occasion, by the minute.

Father, unsurprisingly, didn't share in her excitement. If anything, he seemed to have been trying his best to tone hers down. He was probably worried that she'd pop a blood vessel, or sprain herself, somehow, and who was to say that those things couldn't happen? Lenore Dahlman wasn't a stranger to random bruises and cuts; really, she often woke up mornings and found stray scratches or burns on her body that she hadn't noticed, before. Not that they were serious, because they usually weren't. But father didn't think the same way. This morning, she'd found a cut on her lip, and when the man had noticed it he'd gone rushing into their bathroom, fishing out their med kit. One would have thought that she'd been shot, with the way he'd rushed.

Lenore assured him that she was alright, but it took a while for him to be convinced. Then she'd gone on to tell him that she planned on heading out, for the day. It was to be a "glorious moment of triumph" for humanity, after all; final contact with Planet Eos, a place that was supposed to end up being their new home. But the Archives' lobby was filled to the brim with people. Germ-carrying, potentially sick people.

The man was against her leaving. He asked why she couldn't just watch the launch from here, in the safety of their home, but the only response she gave him was a smile. Just a smile. He sighed and put a hand on his forehead, and was silent for a moment before nodding at her, giving the young woman his permission. She would have gone, anyway, so there was no real point in forbidding it.

Pleased, Lenore gave him a hug, then skirted around him and ran into her mother's room to give her a quick kiss before she left. And the woman smiled at her when she came in, though it faded once she was gone.

Lenore nearly skipped her way to the lobby, effortlessly weaving around people and slipping into the growing crowds. Closer, closer, she needed to get closer...the closer the look, the more she'd be able to see, even if it was only a screen.

Eager as she was, she wasn't too aware of those around her, and ran into more than one person without apologizing, despite having annoyed them. It wasn't like she could bowl anyone over, with how meager her weight was. And all that mattered right now was the launch.​
 
Stern lay against the wall, wishing he were somewhere quieter. He was drowning in a sea of fools, noisy, excitable fools who didn't know the meaning and beauty of the words 'Organised Line'. He already missed his puzzles, his office, the sound of fantastic nothingness. A relaxation technique somebody had mentioned ages ago briefly flitted through his mind, but he batted it away. Damned if I'll yield to some petty supernaturalisms to solve my problems for me. He tried not to show his annoyance, though his twitching scowl betrayed him.


Wonder what it's like down there in the dropship. Stern could have easily gotten into the expedition (or so he thought), but a lack of mysteries would have bored him to the bone. Still, he wagered he'd quite have enjoyed organising planetary things, even if being around trivially excited people would have perpetually irked him.


Kaya asked me to wait here knowing full well the torture I'd enjoy. Damned wife. I'll find my way to her first; there corridors will give me peace at least. So that's what he did. Climbing back into the crowds, he began to barge his way through. Alas, he underestimated his own strength, and after nudging a particularly large man, he suddenly found himself as a man-shaped projectile, nudged flying through the air, where he clattered into a tiny girl of about Eve's age, knocking her to the ground.


Climbing resentfully to the floor, he eyed her without apology. "I didn't know there were any albinos on the Asteria," he mused carelessly.


@Agent Nine
 

Lenore had been squeezing herself through some particularly sturdy people when she reached a bit of open space; a break in the crowds, which was a relief with how most of the ones who'd gathered seemed to be standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Standing on the tips of her toes, the young woman tried to peer at one of the larger lobby screens, barely able to see over a tall man's head of raggedy hair.

All of a sudden, something rammed into her—something big and heavy—and she was sent soundlessly-sprawling to the ground, her shoulder colliding with a nearby pair of shoes. A bit stunned, Lenore stayed where she was for a moment, and the people around her seemed hesitant on whether or not to lend her a hand. Eventually one reached out to her, bending a little, but she ignored them and rolled onto her stomach, then pushed herself up with her knees and stood. This was followed by a quick survey of the rim of her coat, as if she was checking for any stray smudges of dirt or dust, but the material was still as white as it'd been when she left the house.

As if remembering that she wasn't alone, Lenore lifted her gaze to the man in front of her. She was fairly certain that he'd been the one to knock her down, but didn't really seem to care. The young woman eyed him curiously, as she did to all people, then turned away from him a moment later and focused on the screens, again. It was like she'd completely forgotten the incident.

"Do you think we'll make it?" she asked, staring at them as she spoke but directing her question to the gray-haired stranger. Vague as it was, she sounded casual. Unconcerned yet curious, all at once. "We've never been there, before. Differing atmospheric conditions. The ship might have trouble."

@SkyGinge
​
 
Javelin stood unobtrusively by the edge of the crowd flooding the Archives. Like so many others, her eyes were glued to the large displays, an expression of wonder pasted on her face as she waited for the landing to begin. However, none of the other spectators had wide angle cameras disguised as buttons on their lapels. The camera wirelessly transmitted imagery to the heads up display on her glasses, and even as Javelin’s face was turned to the large screens, she slowly swivelled her body to capture as much of the crowd as possible.


Javelin and-she suspected-two other Nikes were deployed in the Archives for two purposes today. They were of course prepared to deal with any dissenter action, but Javelin was confident the local police could deal with anything short of a full scale riot. Mostly, Javelin was concerned with building up a pool of Persons of Interest; angry or frustrated citizens with the dormant seeds of rebellion in their hearts. She scanned the crowd again and again, picking out signs of discomfort or distress, snapping pictures of faces and filing them away to be sorted out later.


A scuffle broke out nearby, and local police quickly moved to break it up. Javelin permitted herself to look away from the screens and stare at the altercation, like any curious spectator might. She carefully recorded all the participants as well as the intervening officers. No one was above suspicion. The fight broke up, and Javelin was about to return her gaze to the screens when two individuals caught her attention. One was an albino girl who understandably stood out in a crowd; Dahlman was her family name if Javelin recalled correctly. The girl was remarkable only for her colouration, but the man she was talking to was none other than Detective Inspector Charles Aaron Stern.


The combination of his character and his initials had earned him the nickname Cassius among Javelin’s superiors. Martuf in particular seemed to delight in making the comparison. Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look he’d quote. So fitting. A good reminder that our allies are just as dangerous as our enemies. While Javelin didn’t share her handler’s fondness for historical comparisons, she understood his meaning. Stern was a brilliant and extremely effective detective, but cold and ambitious. He’d been on Oresteia’s watchlist for a number of years now, and the Nikes had all been specifically instructed to exercise extreme caution when dealing with him. With that in mind, Javelin grabbed a quick snapshot of Stern and the pale girl then returned her gaze to the screens. No one was above suspicion.
 
Unlike Lenore, nobody offered Stern a hand up, and he was glad for it; no doubt they'd seen his barging and fully blamed him for the incident. He stood nursing his bruised arm, his bruised ribs and his bruised hip. He was glad he hadn't taken any further damage. Like puzzles, people were easy to crack, but much harder to put together.


He cast his gaze back over to the barging hooligan who'd projectile'd him, but the man obviously had the attention span to match his animistic agression, as he was now focussed on talking to somebody else. His next port of call was to turn back to the albino person-pillow he'd inadvertantly clattered into. Kaya would apologise or something, but I'll 'politely refrain' - it was hardly my fault. He turned to leave, but the girl's question stopped him.


I was expecting something a little more along the lines of 'How dare you fall into me, you apologise right now, you horrible man!' "Speculation is about as worthwhile as dedicating your life to cooking," Stern spat, "We've spent God-knows-how-long in orbit. What do you think the Council have been doing? Endless Sudoku's? If they didn't think the ship could make it, we'd have packed up long ago."





Hmm. She's about a four/ten, Stern mused, swiftly turned, still brushing himself down, to exit via one of the side doors. Least she didn't waste everyones time demanding an apology.


@Agent Nine
 

The sarcasm was practically dripping from the man's words, and for some reason it brought a smile to Lenore's face, as if he'd told a lightly-amusing joke. Dedicating one's life to cooking...as a profession, he meant? Was he calling it pointless, to spend your days serving food to others?

It was puzzling. He was puzzling. And before she'd really noticed, the graying man had turned on his heels and was starting to walk away from her. He didn't look like he was in a hurry, though it was obvious that he wanted to be anywhere else but the lobby, at the moment. Not the most talkative of fellows, was he?

Not that he'd needed to say much to grab her interest.

If Lenore was remembering correctly, this was the eighth or ninth time she'd been out of the house within the last six weeks. Every experience was a new one, every sight, sound, and smell completely foreign to her senses. And this man was new in a different sense, one that she couldn't quite yet explain. But she was curious, and once the drive to know had planted itself in the young woman's head, it was there to stay. So she followed him, quickening her pace until she'd fallen into step behind him, and asked "You're not interested in the launch? Have you got something more important to do?"

Then she narrowed her eyes a little, taking in his neat-looking clothes. Had she seen him somewhere, before...? Or, maybe, someone like him?

"...are you an officer?"

@SkyGinge​
 
Heavens above, was that girl still following him? He'd just been activating one of the doors when she'd piped up again. "Not particularly," he dismissed without even glancing at her. I've the painful hunch she's going to continue to pester me for quite a while. The girl was like one of those bright little light bulbs that seems so damn happy just to shine and light up everything it can. Stern just had to find the switch and she'd fizzle out and leave him in the comfortable darkness of his business. "Not much point to seeing it first hand when others will be talking about it for weeks anyway. Besides, it's nothing but a hell of noise and nonsense in there."


"If you insist on knowing, I'm trying to find my wife," Stern continued as they entered the Archive's corridors. He'd payed little attention to his surroundings; there wasn't enough brain-cogs for him to allocate to things like spatial awareness where there were far more important matters like puzzle-solving at hand. He wouldn't have even bothered to look at Lenore properly had he not clattered into her. Her curiosity is going to drive me up the wall, Stern told himself, although deep down he knew it actually wouldn't. For it was a trait he shared too.


"Not quite," he curtly parried her third question. Stern preferred not to give out his name where possible; it meant people came into his interviews expecting his deception. Of course, this was nothing he couldn't handle, as he'd just adjust his acting to suit their preconception. Rather, it was a little dull to continually encounter suspects who came in fully aware of who he was. Twenty-five years of occupational stardom had sadly given him relative infamy amongst more organised criminals. But ordinary folk need not recognise him. And that was the way he liked it.


@Agent Nine
 

Well, he had a point, there. An event of this magnitude would stay in people's heads for a while; it wasn't like much else went on, aside from the occasional technological breakthrough or apprehension of some low-brow, self-titled "criminal", who had nothing better to do than steal people's things. Still, though, Lenore felt as though it was better to see the landing with one's own eyes. People tended to over-exaggerate when they retold events to others, and if anything unexpected ended up happening, the young woman wanted to see it for herself.

This man—whatever his name was—obviously didn't feel the same. But she supposed that she could understand when he said that he was busy looking for his wife, who probably cared even less for the landing.

Lenore frowned a little. The answers he was giving were too short and too vague. If he wasn't "quite" an officer, then what was he? Or was she not allowed to know, for some reason? Briefly turning away from him, she let her reddish eyes scan the many heads of the crowds until they fell upon a curious figure. A woman, it seemed, who was standing a few yards away from them. There was a sort of stiffness about her posture that had caught Lenore's attention; it was as if she was trying not to stand out. And her head was turned toward some of the screens, but the young woman got the distinct feeling that she'd been looking their way a short time ago. A hunch, really.

"Do you know her?" Lenore asked, blinking slowly at the distant woman. "Over there. In all black. I think she was looking at us. Not sure, though."

Then she paused, as if something had occurred to her.

"That wouldn't be your wife, would it?"

@SkyGinge | @Ozerath​
 
Stern glanced over through the corridor's window to where the girl was pointing. "No, it's not," he mumbled, disinterested in some random crowd-goer, especially one who didn't seem at all interesting in any way shape or form. "If I'm going through these corridors looking for my wife, why on earth would she be there in the room where I've just come from?" He began to move again. "In any case, it's a free ship, relatively speaking. She can look wherever she wants."


A brighter light began to shine from inside the hall. Perturbed, Stern saw that the screens had flickered on. The High Council's insigna rose into focus, and their familiar electronic fanfare sounded out. It was ancient. The Asteria's founders had thought it cool to give their government their own anthem, but later councils had found little time or commitment to revamp it. Apparently in the ship's earlier days, there'd been regular broadcasts on screens like this, but limitations to electricity had lead to more conservative production. Eventually, the fanfare faded and was replaced by the simple image of a lone speaker at a pedastol somewhere in Zeus. Stern recognised him; was he an actor, maybe?


The man, whoever he was, began a speech designed to 'hype' the crowd, but to Stern's ears it was little more than recycled information. He regergitated knowledge already revealed about the project, and said it would start soon. Stern didn't understand why anybody would waste time watching something explaining things they'd already had pumped into them time and time again. Disinterested, and hoping his albino follower was now too engaged watching the show, he paced off down the corridor once more.


@Agent Nine
 
Kam Chancellor and the rest of his team's defense lined up in a 4-3 coverage system, the players anxiously awaited the quarterback to start the play, the small crowd of spectators even more so as their hearts thumped faster and faster. Chancellor took what little time he had to survey the field around him. Honestly it was really a small, empty lot behind a warehouse than a field, around 70 yards long, much shorter than the standard 100 but nobody complained. The timekeeper had the time set to 10 seconds...10 seconds of the fourth quarter...the last quarter...the offense was at Kam's 10, 10 yards to score and win the game against Kam. Being street Gridiron, nobody was very protected in terms of equipment, everyone only wore shoulder and knee pads, a makeshift, hardened vest was worn over the torso, and their helmets were made of hard plastic without a face mask of any kind. Their bodies gleamed with sweat and crimson liquid had their fair share upon the bodies. Chancellor himself had a large gash in his left arm spanning from elbow to shoulder but he didn't mind, the pain was now a mild sting.


"Hike!"


That was it. The last play of the game was on. Chancellor slowly back stepped as linebackers and defensive ends rushed to get to the quarter under center, the cornerbacks and one other safety rushed to cover the receivers, and Kam was left to observe, he watched the offensive line, the ones who protected the quarterback, and they were standing a little taller, which meant they weren't running the ball. Chancellor was the first to see the threat, the other team's tight end was wide open, ready to catch the ball for the win. Kam took off towards the man, being a tight end he was bigger than the receivers, harder to take down, but not for the strong safety after him.


"Go! Go! Go! Tight end!"


Kam was waving his arm at the defenders and yelling at them to make a grab on the ball as it sailed through the air but nobody could, they were too far away. The tight end jumped for it as the ball was thrown a little too high, and he caught it, the ball nested right against his chest, two powerful arms holding it there but that was his mistake...he jumped. While the man was midair he left his legs extended and vulnerable. Kam hooked his arm around a leg as he was still suspended in the air, and pushed forward, the receiver's body twisting to the side as his legs were suddenly above him, and he crashed onto the hard ground on the back of his neck, legs folding over the man's body, tips of his shoes touching the ground right above his head, his body looked as if he was folded in half. The crowd was hushed, Kam was on the ground, watching. The receiver didn't have the ball! They ball lay on the ground on the sidelines, the pass was incomplete, and the game was over! Kam's defense had won the game! The crowd erupted in cheers as the tight end was helped off the field, limping as he went. Kam himself pounded the concrete with his palms in joy multiple times, yelling into the ground was he did so.


-10 minutes later-


"Ay, Chancellor! You seein' this? Crap they been talkin bout' finally happenin'." A shorter, stockier man had walked over to Kam who had just slipped on his shirt. Kam looked at him with an amused grin.


"Yeah. Bunch a bull of you ask me. Who gave em' the right to send out kids for labor? Don't matter if they're criminals, it's not right." Kam started to push his way out of the dispersing crowd as they all went out to watch the launch, Kam would be joining them.


"Wait! Chancellor wait up! Dontcha wanna take your gear back to your house?!" The stocky man fell into pace with Kam, his pads and helmet cradled in his arms. The taller man only waved him away as he increased the length of his strides.


"You have the key to my house!"


-10 minutes later-


Kam stood at the edge of the crowd of onlookers, hands on his hips as he let out a breath of frustration. Scanning the crowd, he found nobody of interest, save for an oddly colored girl and her creepy looking companion, both of which were too far away to really get a close look so he huffed and looked away. Standing at the edge of the sea of people he was in better position to spot another woman, dressed unlike any other civilian here...so she couldn't be a civilian...well she was trouble. Giving her a once-over and a small wave without caring if she saw, he turned his attention back to the giant screens that were now displaying a man giving a speech that failed to catch Kam's interest. Crossing his arms, he just watched.
 

"...why on earth would she be there in the room where I've just come from?"

"Well, maybe she's out looking for you, too," Lenore replied, though the words faded as the man started to walk, again. It was a little surprising to hear that he wasn't concerned about their (or his) possible follower. Errr...stalker? Watcher? Oddly-vigilant bystander?

She frowned and pursed her lips a little, looking back over at the mystery woman, who's attention was still on the screens. And then the air was filled with static, followed by a particularly-aged tune that Lenore had come to know as the High Council's theme song. A barrage of trumpets would have done just as well in announcing their presence. It was a bit cheesy, to be honest, but Lenore kept her eyes on the nearest screen as a lone man stepped into view. He then began to speak, addressing the "good people" of Asteria and announcing that the landing would commence shortly, which encouraged a few excited murmurs. It was nice to hear and all, but nothing was new. Lenore had spent the last few weeks getting herself hyped up for this day; at this point, she was as excited as she'd ever be. She listened for a little while longer, wondering if any recent discoveries that'd been made would be given to the public. The man started to rant about Asteria's history and "the fate of humanity," instead, and Lenore took that as her cue to stop paying attention.

Breaking into a half-jog, she made her way down the corridor to catch up to the man. He hadn't introduced himself, yet, and though Lenore wanted to know his name, she wasn't going to force it out of him. He could say it when he wanted to, if he wanted to. And when that happened, she'd give him hers.

Or maybe she wouldn't. People didn't seem to be skilled at remembering names; at least, she could tell as much from her infrequent observations.

"I'll help you find her. What does she look like?" Lenore asked once she had come up beside him.

@SkyGinge​
 
Stern immediately tensed, leaned back and sighed. For the love of... of everything, why won't this stupid girl take the hint? He swished away his drooping fringe and massaged the bridge between his eyes. "Look at me," he turned to face her, "I'm a grown man of 46 years old. I'm an infamously fantastic star detective. I'm a near-sociopathic puzzle-cracking genius. Do I really look like I assistance locating my own wife? Now, kindly leave me alone and find something more fulfilling to do. Like, I dunno, boys. Or... whatever it was that Eve used to do. Look, here's a good idea!" He stomped over to one of the corridor's windows and jabbed a quivering finger against the glass. "Why don't you go and watch the dropship launch that literally everybody on this damned ship has been wetting themselves over?"


...and now, finally, the defining moment of this generation. The launch of Project Hermes! said the needlessly handsome guy on the screen, and at once, the view flickered to a shot of the underside of the ship, looking down on the planet's cloudy surface. There were numerous gasps in the auditorium; it was a surprisingly rare sight to see the outside world in moving picture. Stern, however, was musing over a certain technicality. They must've sent someone outside to repair/check these cameras.


Then, like a tadpole edjecting from a frogspawn egg, the dropship dropped. There was a minor cheer in the audience; the launch had been a success. Sighing to himself, Stern found himself watching at the window as the ship eventually disappeared into the clouds.


Suddenly the picture flickered away, and instead of a starry intergalactic wonder, a messy, slouching, hairy man filled up the screen. The picture was oddly angled, pointing upwards at him, and he appeared to be in a cramped, dark room. Unless the Council have suddenly developed a really weird sense of humour, this is unplanned.


"Asterians," he said, his voice somewhat distorted, "The High Council are keeping information for you. Dark, dangerous information beyond your wildest beliefs. The Hades Layer; it's a lie, a myth. What they really do is far worse. And the Aura Layer, there's secrets there too. The trees, they're-"


The picture cut out, and the view returned to the image of the planet, the dropship now completely faded.


But now, there was minor uproar in the auditorium. There was a muted buzz amongst the onlookers, a buzz rife with tension. Some budding troublemakers immediately sprung into action, yelling and cursing the government, and Stern watched his colleagues below leap into action.


There was a beep on his comms device: Eli. "Stern, what the hell is going on?" the man's concerned voice rung out.


"Probably some publicity stunt," the detective murmered, already turning to face the corridor, "Some anti-council loon trying to re-enact some ancient revolution he probably fantasises over. But I know a surefire way we can turn that 'probably' into a definitely."


"What?"


"You keep the crowds in check."


"Just spit it out Aaron, damn it!"


"There's only one place where somebody could get the technology needed to stage a visual hack like that. Any guesses?"


"This isn't a game Stern. Hey, calm it! Calm it!" A kaffuffle broke out besides Eli.


But Aaron Stern, Ace Detective, had other plans, and was already sprinting down the corridor. "Find out if it was a global hack for me. I'll get back to you when I've apprehended the subject. But I believe they're here. I believe they've hacked in from the Archives!"


@Agent Nine


@Ozerath


@PKCV2
 
"The launch of Project Hermes!"





The very words did little to comfort the man watching from the edge of the crowd, he ever so slightly shook his head, torn in the way he thought. Kam was excited about the prospect of finally leaving the floating boat, it's cramped space constantly a reminder of his limited life, the alien sensation of fresh air almost had Kam salivating at the thought of it. Yet a tiny nagging voice was set in the back of his mind, no matter how hyped he was for new land, the health of those kids that were about to be sent down to a foreign planet kept trying to hold Kam back, but he didn't want to be held out. Some part of him just wanted those kids to hurry up and announce the planet was safe for landing, some part of him just didn't care if they died...as long as there was a new life waiting safely for Kam Chancellor. More land would make for more places to build up revolutions...that was what he really wanted. More land could possibly cause the Asterian government to thin out their forces to cover more land, softening the load that a revolution would need to be carried out. At least this was how Kam was thinking.


Breaking free from his thoughts, he came back to reality just in time to actually see the planet for itself, the screen switching to a view of his next home. Sadly he could only see the clouds swirling slowly aeound the planet, not offering many chances, if any at all, to see the surface of the planet. Suddenly the launch ship attracted the gaze of the audience, many not focusing in the planet anymore. As the ship disappeared from view, having made its way into the clouds, cheers emanated from the crowd until the screen cut to an ominous looking man, a bigger set of a man, the background not so clear to determine where he could be broadcasting from. Kam uncrossed his arms in tension, suspicion rising from Kam's mind.


"That's...not right." He whispered to himself, his suspicion rising to an all-time high as the man started to speak, his voice reminding Kam of old videos where witnesses would give their sides of a story, their voices deeper on purpose. The words the mystery man spewed were chock-filled with anti-government intention and the crowd were now riled as some started to get rowdy, prompting security to jump into the fray.


Everything went to shit. A loud crash sounded to his right. Swiveling his head he saw two men raving, trying to fight off a trio of security, shards of glass littered the ground around them, the remains of a small screen rested on the ground which he guessed was the source of the crash. Taking steps toward the backs of the officers, the sounds of the crowd seemed to fade, drowned out by the adrenaline that started to fill his ears. His fists were balled, his mind and body ready for a fight when another civilian ran across his view, apparently fleeing the scene. This snapped Kam out of his craze and he took the moment of sensibility to back away from the scuffle.


No...no. Not yet, not everyone's inspired to fight...just gotta keep being a good citizen. Good citizen. Good citizen.





Kam repeated those thoughts in his head as he forced himself to back away and watch the scene unfold, the officers now gained the upper edge on the two rioters as their clubs became involved. With great difficulty, Kam turned away and went back the way he came, leaving the chaos behind him.


@Agent Nine @SkyGinge @Ozerath
 
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A man waved. That was unusual. It implied she stood out to him. She turned her camera lense on him and zoomed in. There was nothing immediately sinister or threatening about him. He wasn’t furtive or nervous. But there was something in his eyes, something about the way his jaw was set, or maybe something about the way he stood. A sort of subdued defiance. Javelin captured a quick snapshot of the man and filed it away for later. Not an immediate threat, but...perhaps she’d better keep an eye on him.


Javelin continued her sweep as the launch proceeded, uninterested in the high council’s pomp and ceremony. Their showmanship was not for her, the knife in the shadows, but for the people gathered here. The King is dead, the crowds despair, the heavy crown is ours to bear. The litany popped into her head unbidden. It was a favorite saying of Martuf. He almost preached it daily, so it was no real surprise that Javelin was thinking of it now.


Then something very bad happened. Javelin had been briefed on the broadcast’s intended schedule. The ragged man now filling the screens was definitely not on that schedule. She instantly began to move, pulling away from the crowd and skirting around the edge towards the archives proper. A voice came in on her earpiece. “The Archives” it said, flat and dull with surpressed anger.


“On my way,” she replied.


“Mace and Shoto will stay in position and tag protesters in the crowd. You will apprehend the insurrectionist. Additional operatives will be deployed to cover escape routes.”


“A potential problem,” she said, noticing Inspector Stern pushing his way towards the Archives. “Inspector Stern is moving towards the Archives as well. He has likely reached the same conclusion.”


There was silence for a moment. “This complicates things. If the insurrectionist is taken into custody by local police, his message will reach far too many ears. Removing him from their grasp would also draw unwanted attention. Attempt to apprehend him before Stern does, but exercise caution. Minimize contact with Stern, and go with the simplest cover story if you do have to speak to him. He’ll probably pick apart anything more elaborate.”


“Understood.”


Now free of the crowd, Javelin set off deeper into the Archives at a full sprint, her enhanced body working propelling her down the corridors. She carefully noted Stern’s point of entry and took an alternate route, confident she could reach their destination first. This insurrectionist was talented to have completely escaped Oresteia’s attention, but by revealing himself today, he had signed his own death warrant. Javelin could almost feel the organization shift and turn, bringing all of it’s concentration to bear on the new threat. The insurrectionist had no idea of what he was bringing down on himself; he would presently disappear into a black bag, and his words would fade into nothingness soon thereafter.


@SkyGinge


@Everyone else at the Arhcives
 
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Stern pounded down the corrigated corridors, his rapid, rhythmic steps like a mechanical drumbeat accompanying his plight. Stern was hardly fit, but instinctive determination drove him onwards. Very soon, the real world became nothing but a distant blur, and Stern was moving instead according to the map he had drawn out in his head.


Stern strode up swirling staircases and commadeered claustrophobic corners. Whether this guy's a loonatic or telling the truth, he's done very well to hack the entire system. That supports his case. But stranger things have happened; just because you're a loonatic, doesn't mean you can't be a genius too. Anyhow, he wants attention, regardless. Captain Propaganda knows this is his last Good Act. But he wanted to get things done, which means he'll have positioned himself a safe distance away from where most people are. The tops floors, therefore, will have been his choice location to spend his final moments of freedom.


The Archives, like many Asterian structures, were very tall; about eight stories high. There was a lift system, but it had been shut down when he was a child to save electricity. About halfway up, Kaya was waiting for him outside her regulary librarian spot.


"Run, Superman, run!" she egged him on, grinning wildly as Stern shot past her, "I told you you needed to hit the gym, porky!" She seemed to anybody else remarkably calm, but Stern knew his wife better than anybody else; that grin only came out in the rare occasions that she was afraid.


Still, her presense had told him one thing; she'd already searched this floor.


Eventually, Stern reacehd the top floor. Puffing and panting like a phasing gas machine, the shattered detective ignored his poor physical state and barged through the first computer room with all the grace of a ballet-dancing hippo. Nope, nothing. One down, far too many others to go.


His comms beeped again. "Stern... how's it going?"


"What was the answer?"


"It was global, yep. Which means this damn idiot is actually a genius damn idiot. But you probably already worked that out. We've got the crowds under control, so tell me where the hell you are so that I can send back-up. Kay? ... Aaron?"


Aaron Stern had frozen still. Very slowly, he turned off the device, ears pricked. Footsteps. Somebody else is here. The detective struggled to conceal the evidence of his tiredness, and cautiouly waited for the other person to reveal themselves.


@Ozerath
 
As she heard his voice echoing down the hallway, Javelin found herself mildly irritated that Stern was still close at hand. Though she was in significantly better shape than the detective, she’d been forced to take a less efficient route to avoid him. The man was too smart for his own good; it wouldn’t do to let him question the mysterious suspect. Confrontation then. Stern loved puzzles; give him a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Make him work for every scrap of information.


She rounded the corner at a steady jog, and almost ran head first into the Inspector. Javelin stopped, stiffened, and drew up her shoulders. “This area is off limits to civilians,” she said angrily “get back to the-oh...Inspector Stern.” She let a small flicker of confusion play across her face, then stifled it. “The situation here is under control. Return to the lobby and help with crowd control.”


Let him puzzle that over. No name, no badge, no obvious identifying features. A young woman, determined but perhaps a little self conscious, with a sense of entitled authority she clumsily wielded, like a club. Alright inspector, let’s see you at work.





@SkyGinge
 
Stern frowned. His brain's rapid whirring were almost audible. Well that's a fraud if I've ever seen one. No ID. Hasty introduction. Good actress though; maybe she should've been on that screen plugging the people instead of that sweaty neanderthal. Generally, one doesn't successfully start a revolution looking like you've gone three weeks without a shower; this girl's got sufficient enough a face to be a propaganda poster girl. 'course, her story's as unproblematic as the ship's electricity systems, but right now she's not our priority.


So instead of asking any questions, the tired and sweating Aaron Stern, who must have looked neanderfal-esque himself, barged his way past Javelin and towards the next computer room. His heart felt like it was on a high-octane rollercoaster tour of his resporatory system, but he ignored his bedraggled state and opened another door. Not good enough. We need somethign else. Bait for the rat. A mousetrap. Easy.


Composing himself, slightly, Stern's posture suddenly underwent a dramatic metamorphasis. Gone was the slightly unnerving hunch, the distasteful melancholic air. Replacing it, Stern somehow managed to make his scrawny body seem like it filled the entire corridor. His eyes flared with primordial anger, though it seemed distant, like being read through a book as opposed to presently viewed.


"It damn well better be under control," he yelled at the top of his voice, "I'm the best damn detective in this damn ship. If you can't find a mere hacker, it'll be into the black void with you as well as with him!" Quite suddenly, he rose a hand to silence the woman from any interjection she might choose to make. Risky, Stern. We don't want him dead. We want proof, even if the Council might disagree.


He stood silently for a long moment, eyes leisurely drifting around, body frozen statuesque. Very quietly, somewhere nearby, deep breathing. The heavy rise and fall of nervous lungs. Bingo. A subtle smile flitted unto his curled lips, if only for an instant, and then it was gone, and Stern darted his way over to one of the computer rooms where, if he was correct, the suspect would be.


 
@Ozerath
 
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.





The same word repeated in the mind of one Kam Chancellor as he weaved his way through the always present crowd around this time of day. Apparently the news had made it's rounds through the ship as every civilian imaginable was either gossiping in small groups or frantically bustling around. Stepping past a group of gossiping teenagers, Kam caught a few curious glances thrown his way, maybe some had seen him play a few matches of Gridiron, maybe they just knew him because he frequented the area he was trying to venture through. The area was squarish in nature, four diverging pathways on each side, small stores were planted where open space was possible, while the area wasn't as populated as the main market, this was where the lower class residents occupied.


Still weaving, Kam noticed the extra layer of security that had been dispatched to watch over the people. Cautiously casting quick looks to the visored men, the faceless forces intimidated even the football player, if only a tiny bit, still enough to cause Kam's stomach to churn the wrong way. Their confident and menacing air gave each man a wide berth around themselves to fully stretch out their arms as many cast fearful expressions when facing the guards. Stifling a growl Kam could only find comfort in the possible impending storm.


-5 minutes later-


Away from the hustle and bustle of the people, Kam found himself at his humble abode, well...his shared abode. The South African Frenchman stood at the front of an apartment-styled complex...a poorly maintained apartment complex. Artificial vines gradually enveloped the tall building as the weathered bricks showed even more cracks, the steel touched by a reddish color, Kam swore that half the building was slanted.


Kicking open the door of his 3rd story room, he immediately was assaulted by the smell of alcohol and sound of raucous laughter, thin trails of white smoke lazily snaked through the air as he stepped inside his home. Planted right in the center of the living room was Kam's roommate and another friend who was apparently visiting, the two sitting at a foldable table, ashtrays and empty bottles littered the small room. His roommate was a fellow football player, a 325 pound, African American, beast of a man that played the position of defensive tackle. Stronger than most, the two really got to know each other after colliding into each other in their very first game where both weren't very good at their positions, essentially the two coached each other as they did more research on the sport.


"Hey! There's my man right there! Hey you weren't followed by some government goon yeah!?" Julian Wilfork's slurred and loud voice rang throughout the confines of the room.


Kam rolled his eyes at his paranoid roommate. "No man! You think anybody worthwhile's gonna stalk a guy as innocent as me?" Kam spread his arms wide with a forced smile plastered on his face.


Julian snorted and took another swig from his glass bottle, going back to playing whatever card game he was invested in before Kam interrupted. The man who interrupted leaving the room to enter an even smaller room, his own bedroom which consisted of four walls in a square shape and a small bed, the room bare of anything else. Thinking of just plopping down on his bed, something in his mind kept him wanting to stay awake, what it was...he didn't know.


Snatching his homemade pair of knuckles off his bed, he slipped them inside the front pocket of his jeans, the knuckles were twisted wire strung together that could be easily secured on his fist, the perfect weapon for a guy like Kam. With a quick goodbye to his roommate and friend, Kam exited the aprtment just as quickly as he had left and ventured back to the main portion where the majority of ship-dwellers would be.
 
Interesting was Javelin’s first thought as Stern suddenly seemed to expand before her eyes, his towering presence suddenly filling the corridor. She allowed herself to cower a little, slightly widening her eyes and taking half a step back. Then she filled herself with anger, reached into her pocket and produced a badge, and prepared to deliver a stinging rebuke. She tightened her vocal chords to produce a slightly shrill voice, but before she could open her mouth, she heard someone’s ragged breathing coming from nearby. Stern’s hand shot up in the same instant.


Time seemed to slow as Javelin weighed the options. They were too close now. There was no way to quietly remove Stern now. She’d hoped to have a little more time to work him over, gradually reveal that she was a “Lt. Maya Bazarov” of the Zeus Security Force. Any normal Demeter policeman would’ve been cowed into submission by the lofty ZSF badge; probably not Stern, but it had been worth a shot. Now however, her options were quickly limiting themselves.


She could forcefully take Stern out of action, here and now. A single strike to the 8th vertebrae would leave him temporarily paralyzed; a follow up strike to the temple would knock him out cold. Javelin considered the idea, turning it over in her mind. She discarded the option. Disabling Stern would significantly increase the risk the fugitive would escape, and it left too many unanswered questions for the famous detective. He’d doubtlessly end up investing a great deal of time and effort in tracking her down, hampering her in her other duties.


Perhaps they could cooperate to apprehend the dissenter. That possibility raised further options. Javelin could let local police take the dissenter into custody, and arrange to have him spirited away into Oresteia’s hands at the earliest possible convenience. That again risked leaving Stern with too tantalizing a puzzle.


Javelin could also arrange to have her fellow Nike’s to take the dissenter into ZSF custody, superseding the authority of local police. There were merits to that idea. The ZSF was notoriously arrogant and uncooperative when it came to dealing with ‘lesser’ police forces. Any official inquiries Stern cared to make would be met by an endless horde of snobby administrators telling him to mind his own business. Additionally, going the “official” route meant Stern would seriously risk his career if he chose to dig too deep.


Javelin ran through her options once again to see if she was missing anything, then decided on the last one, as it had the best balance of success vs. follow up risks.


Her course of action decided, Javelin stifled the screeching rant she’d been about to deliver. She resolutely clipped her ZSF badge to her chest and fumed in silence beside Stern, occasionally switching her gaze to him so she could glare daggers at the side of his head. ‘Maya Bazerov’ was young, self conscious about her authority and quick to anger, but just professional enough not to lose a suspect on account of her wounded pride.
 
Stern could pretty much feel the woman's fury burning the atmosphere behind him. Not my problem. Whoever she is, she's microscopic in comparison to the task at hand. It's her own fault for coming up here anyway, regardless of her reasons. Dismissing the girl (and temporarily dismissing any notion he might have had of her real intentions), Stern felt a rare rush of adrenhiline. This was it. The moment. The reveal. What implications lay ahead.


Stern swung the door open and, sure enough, there sat Caveman-Cal himself. His archaic chair, unchanged in hundreds of years of space-trouble, was practically dripping with lurid sweat. His dull, brown eyes were wide and pulsating, like some kind of sickly sea-creature in one of the Archive's Earth documentaries. About as glamourous as a turd. Suppose you don't really think of keeping up important appearences when trying to spread an awful truth. Or an awful lie. The man tried to conceal the recoil of the flinch he'd performed as the door opened on him, but fear was written all over his body.


The only puzzle now is the girl. Stern's mind whirred rapidly. So I think I'll take the easy way out. Kaya would have my head if she knew of this cowardice.


The compact desk was amass with a twisted mass of wiring. Neanderfal-man's wild eyes darted between the pair of them. Showtime, thought Stern.


"Don't be afraid," he said, allowing the weakness of his tired, physical form seep into his voice, "I'm not here to harm you. I just want to ask you some questions, so that we can get to the bottom of this."


But the sweat-drenched, revolting mammal merely sweated harder. "I know you," he managed, "I know your tricks. I heard what you said out there. You're with them. Them up there!" His wavering arm jabbed at the ceiling a few rapid times. "You already know. You're not on my side..."


"It's ok," Stern intoned, firm but calm, fatherly, he liked to think, "I know that's how things appear. But trust me. If what you say is true, you will be greatly rewarded. And even if it's not, that's ok. Your hacking skills are simply superb, and I'm sure I'd be able to wrangle you off the hook and into safer hands."


But paranoia was now a film that shrouded the man's entire being. He pointed to the corridor behind them. "You can't fool me. I'm not stupid. Not mad. Not a liar. It's plain to see; she's from the ZSF!" Stern jerked his head around, and cursed under his breath. I'd like to say her late reveal of her position is a clear sign of her fraud, but knowing the lech's up there, she's probably just an arrogant brat who decided to try and quiz me in the middle of one of the most important cases of the decade. Thanks hun. Allow me to repay the favour.


"Seen through my guise... clever," Stern snarled, somehow making his diminuative stature seem giant-sized once again. His thin lips curled, and his lifeless eyes growled. "Underestimated you, it seems." The victim's caught between two tides; one pride, one pertification. Bingo. "Well then. If that won't work on you, I'll have to try something... a little more practical."


Stern lunged for the wires. The man opened his mouth to protest, and slammed it shut when he realised only blabberings were coming out. But instead of jerking them out, he span and, grabbing the second chair by the desk, hurled it at the doorway. Time. Speed. His aim was to hit the ZSF prat, though it really didn't matter if, by some miraculous coincidence, she was also a master of evasion. For immediately, he flicked his wrist through the wirey mesh and pulled a singal, brown wire.


A roaring beeping attacked at their eardrums. Neanderfal-man slipped from his chair, which clatter to the cold, hard ground alongside his floundering form. Stern dashed to the door, slamming the door shut with a satisfying clink, before being forced to clutch his own ears and sliding down the door to the floor.


Ten long seconds later, the din subsided, and the room was left in utter darkness.


"B-b-b-but that's impossible!" the hacker squealed, "I made sure to hide my whereabouts from the government."


"I'm sure you did," Stern rose to his feet, "But sadly, there's no technology I know of that overrides the emergency power surge." He allowed that revelation to sink in. "Turns out my wife was useful after all; it's a little known secret, only amongst technical Archivists, that dislodging the brown wire severs all connection an enacts and emergency shut-down of all Archive systems. Everybody down below will be playing hide-and-seek now, but that's of little importance. I hope you don't think my gift of a fast-flying chair towards the ZSF girl was another trick, do you?"


Satisfying silence. Stern loved being right. He continued: "Quite a handy little trip, really. If somebody with lesser hacking prowess, unlike yourself, were to attempt something along the lines of what you just did, Archivists down below would immediately be able to tell and activate a blackout. Localised of course, so then the suspects could be located and captured before they could carry out their illegal intent. And, with wires of this sort normally wrapped snuggly in the walls, the secret remains a secret."


"But... with the power out..."


"I know about the power," Stern interupted, "It won't be long before it returns. And when it does, this door will unlock, and I can't imagine our little friend out there will be particularly pleased with our antics. Hence I suggest you get out of that festering puddle of sweat and help me to make her inevitable entrance a little more inconveniant."


@Ozerath


@Agent Nine and @PKCV2 (as if your characters are in/reach the building, they'll react to the power being flicked off.)
 
“Now that is some interesting footage,” Martuf’s voice practically purred in Javelin’s ear as she pushed away the recently airborne chair. Javelin scanned over the feed from her button camera, and confirmed that there was indeed some interesting footage, just as she’d hoped. Stern’s intervention had complicated things from the start, limiting Javelin’s utility and forcing her to adopt a cover identity, splitting her attention between diverting him and catching the dissenter. When he decided to fling a chair at her, Javelin had been forced to make a few decisions. The first thing she did was neatly throw a small metal ball into the room, her action disguised by the hectic scene unfolding. Then Javelin neatly squared herself to take the hit from the chair, letting out a distinctly feminine cry as it hit her in the chest and knocked her to the ground. The footage had turned out quite nicely; the camera had clearly captured Stern’s face, and it jossled dramatically with her fall, punctuated by a woman’s cry of pain. Splice that out, add some static at the end, and for all intents and purposes Detective Inspector Aaron Stern had just assaulted a member of the Zeus Security Force to help a wanted fugitive escape justice.


It was, on further consideration, perfect. Stern would become a wanted felon of the highest order, and Oresteia would be free to hunt him down and take the dissenter at the same time. Both of them would disappear into black bags forever; regrettably killed when they refused to surrender no doubt. It would certainly be much simpler than putting Stern through a public trial, and the video footage proving his guilt would help stifle any outcry over his disappearance. Oresteia got the dissenter and removed Stern at the same time. How convenient.


“It would be a shame to discard such a fine tool,” Martuf murmured in her ear, as if reading her thoughts.


“Stern’s ambition and power-lust are well documented. It would be best to eliminate him now before he becomes a problem.” Javelin replied.


“Oh sweet little Javelin, so practical. I almost wish the Nike conditioning left you with a little more imagination. Yes, my dear, Stern is ambitious and power hungry, but those emotions are easily fed. A little carrot, a little stick, and we could actually make use of Stern.” Martuf paused. “Your recon probe is functional?”


Javelin checked the readouts from the metal ball on her glasses HUD. “Yes.”


“Sit tight then, let’s see what they’re up to.”


Sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the darkened room, the small metal ball quietly recorded everything the two men said and relayed it to the operative patiently waiting outside.
 
"Hey careful! Careful! 'Scuse me!" The football player cried as he shouldered his way through the seemingly endless wave of civilians. Muttering obscenities under his breath, he forcefully moved someone to the side by ramming his broad shoulder into the backside of what looked to be a teenager in the range of 16-19 years old. The unexpected blow caused the girl to spin clockwise, her blonde hair wildly spun with her as a squeal escaped her lips. Trying to peer into the crowd for her assailant, she found no one as Kam Chancellor dissipated with the crowd.


Eventually Kam had found himself at a crossroad. Several roads lead to varied areas whether it be markets, residential spaces, parks, and even a few bars, but the one leading trail that stood out was the one that took him to the Archives. Everyone knew about but not many, if at all, of the people of Kam's status had seen the inside. It certainly looked regal in status when it loomed mysteriously in the distance, it's height doing nothing to detract from it's...higher Asterian aura.


Involuntarily the man found himself staring at the tall tower in the distance, his eyes flitting from the building then back to his surroundings, aware for any kind of security detail that would take interest in detaining him for something ridiculous like loitering. A single thought filled his mind, one that could yield an invaluable piece of the puzzle in freeing her sister from their damn Hades layer, the injustice boiled his blood.


That puzzle piece was what the Archives had to be withholding from...well, everyone. From what Kam already knew, the Archives was a government building and the secretive pricks government officials were, there was no doubt in Kam's mind that they stored some juicy information within the databanks of the building. Of course Kam thought these things because of the name the building held...the Archives...and the last time he checked the word "archives", it meant that something stored information. Hoping that his short years he spent actually learning was correct, Kam shrugged his shoulders and briskly jogged towards the tall building.


And then the power went out.
 
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Lenore pouted a little when the man said that he didn't need any help, but kept herself from speaking. Did he look like he needed it...? Well, he had no idea where his wife was, which said something in of itself...and he could probably benefit from the assistance. And yet he'd brushed her off, telling her to go about her own, nonexistant business while he went searching. Not that she had to go; if she felt like it, she could probably just follow him. The launch was indeed interesting, and the sole reason she was standing where she was, to begin with, but this still unnamed-man had shown himself to be even more worth her attention. That, and he'd just mentioned something about puzzles. Maybe he'd know of a few that she hadn't hoarded for herself, yet; she was down to a couple of unsolved sudokus and a 500-piece jigsaw set.

​



Glancing back over at the screens, the young woman was just in time to catch the dropship falling from the ship's belly, descending like a bomb being dropped from an airplane until it was swallowed up by a mass of otherworldly clouds. And scene changed to a cramped, grubby-looking room of some sort, with an even grubbier-looking man sitting in the center. Lenore could barely process his words before the feed was cut, and was left merely standing and staring in confusion as the crowds around her began to move.

​



The Hades Layer? And the trees...? What in the world had he been trying to say?

​



Lenore's sudden need of answers was nearly-overwhelming. It was no surprise that the man had been silenced that quickly—government-talk was a big no-no—and she had no way of knowing whether he'd lied to get cause trouble or not, but the cryptic words that he left behind still stuck with her, prodding at her brain and forcing her to think, to try and come up with her own conclusions.

​



All of a sudden, the puzzle-solving detective was off, yammering away on some unseen device as he broke away from her and went dashing down the corridor. Then the suspicious woman from earlier was running after him. Lenore watched them go, feeling as though she was being left out of something terribly important. Obviously the two were off to find the man from the feed...but if/when they did, what would happen? Would they listen to what he had to say, or arrest him for "disturbing the peace" and attempting to spread malicious rumors...? Not giving it a second thought, Lenore started to follow them, squeezing through the now-agitated throngs of people. The distant, fleeing shape of the woman was all that she could see, but it was enough, and she ran and ran until a tall building came into view, looming before her like some sort of monolith.

​



Intent on catching up to her, Lenore continued through the crowds until she was engulfed in them, tossed one way and the next as they surged and changed course, some people riled up enough to yell and spit at the screens—which was pointless, because no one could hear them—while others were pushing back against the enforcing officers who'd moved in to quell the rising chaos.

​



It was at that moment that the lights went out, and she found herself colliding with some stiff figure who'd been in front of her (Kam). That's the second time in less than an hour...huh, Lenore mused, unsure of whether or not to feel proud of the accomplishment. Anyway, what had happened to the lights? Was this the work of the mysterious man...?

​



Having stumbled a little, the young woman clung to the man's clothes to keep herself steady, not really concerned whether or not he'd mind. "Flashlight. Do you have one?" Lenore asked. "Too dark in here to see...but I need to get to that building. You're going there, too...?"

​





@PKCV2
​
 
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