The next day arrived and with it the cleansing light of dawn. The plumes of smoke from the day before had evaporated into memory. My morning was spent locked in an intense meeting with Terra and a very infuriated Lockhart. The events of the last twenty four hours still weighed heavy on us all. Avoiding exposure was becoming much more difficult as Nina began ramping up her activity. With the destruction of Ministry Square, and Evo City’s cardboard cutout politicians in hiding, things were getting heated in the once quiet city. Evo City was now under martial law, and in the midst of everything, Lockhart posed the idea of sending the Excaliburs to hunt Nina and her allies down. I disagreed. I felt my fists clench tight as I struggled to remain calm. The stress in the room was more than palpable. My voice held back its shakiness as I put my personal convictions aside to argue Lockhart’s proposal.

"Look…," I began as I took a deep breath.

"I've been following her movements for three years now. I'd like to think that I know her patterns. In the past three years there hasn't been a single large scale attack. Hell, up until recently she had reduced her activities to single small targets. The attack yesterday was a lot more than just sudden."

Lockhart took a deep breath of his own and leaned back into his seat, propping his feet back up on the desk. I could hear the creaking of wood beneath the rubber soles of his shoes.

"Lockhart, out of all the major attacks Nina caused, has one ever brought down a building?" I asked, continuing my explanation.

"No. Never. Any large scale attack was carried out in a crowded area. Never caused any major structural damage."

"So why would she all of the sudden decide to destroy a building, let alone one belonging to the government?"

"What if she isn’t acting on her own? What if someone else is pulling her strings?" Terra suggested as she spoke up rather suddenly.

That's when Lockhart sat up straight once again. His gaze suddenly heightened in its seriousness.

"If that is the case, it would have to be someone much stronger than she is. I dread to think of who could be powerful enough to control her."

A grim feeling fell over all of us in that moment. Events had been set in motion that were far beyond our control. This was the calm before a great storm. A storm that would turn the world we lived in on its head. A vault can only contain so many secrets before they all come tumbling out. We had but precious moments left to enjoy our hidden existence.

*****

While we were dreading the events to come, those same events had already set themselves into motion. A pale man in a white suit made his way to the office of Chief of Police, Harold Mason. The gentleman was a rather radiant individual with silky smooth skin, paler than the light cast down upon it. That radiance was only amplified by the short, side swept ivory locks that fell just above his eyes. Those deep, abyssal red eyes were forever locked ahead of him, glaring forward towards the future as if it was something that could be seized by mortal hands. The gentleman’s suit was sharp and sleek. The air of professionalism about him was more than evident by those pasty angles of fabric overlapping the black button up shirt worn beneath. A thin white tie maintained the balance of monochrome displayed proudly over the man’s body. His black shoes shined in the light of the corridor as it refracted off the polished leather with each step. The man seemed to have this geometrical feeling about him. His entire body seemed perfectly symmetrical, aside from his side swept hair. Every angle was purposely crafted by the great beyond to be the embodiment of mathematical perfection.

As the symmetrical gentleman entered the office, he was greeted by a rather gruff and heavy-set Harold Mason. Sitting up firmly in his chair, Chief Mason motioned for the pale gentleman to take a seat. The gentleman did so and thus the meeting began.

"Glad you could come at such short notice, Lazarus," commented Chief Mason in his calm and orderly manner.

"No problem. After all, my weekend has been thrown to the wayside after the events of yesterday," Lazarus replied as he sat down.

The way Lazarus sat was peculiar. He was perfectly straight and still, much like a statue. It was as if he had a strong desire within him. His body had to form a perfect ninety degree angle with the chair he sat in. It seemed the mathematical prowess of his appearance was born from an obsessive compulsion rather than admiration. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two.

"Any leads on the bombing?" asked Mason as the two men proceeded straight to business.

"None."

A small guttural groan of disappointment escaped Mason’s maw as he picked up a burning cigar from the ashtray on his desk. A quick puff of the illustrious tobacco was all that was required to soothe the otherwise volatile police chief.

"Permission to speak freely?" Lazarus asked as the chief continued puffing his cigar.

"Go ahead."

"I think if anyone is to blame it should be you, Chief Mason."

The snap of a cigar was the only sound piercing the silence as it bounced off Mason's desk and tumbled to the floor. Chief Mason’s eyes were fixed upon Lazarus in a sort of dumbfounded, rage fueled shock. The hefty police chief’s short fuse had been lit.

"The fuck did you say!?"

Mason then rose from his chair in a fury. Lazarus merely continued at the same speed with the same calm expression on his face. He was staring down a giant and showed no fear.

"Your stagnancy has caused this very event. You believed this city to be the most peaceful place on Earth. Your efforts to uncover the culprit behind countless unsolved arson cases have been minuscule at best. The Street Mall Fire from three years ago remains unsolved to this day."

"It was a fucking gas leak!"

"That is bullshit and you know it. A brand new street mall bursts into flames the day of its grand opening, killing everyone inside, and you honestly believe it was a gas leak. We both know that the numbers don't add up. Not to mention the alleged cause itself. A gas leak? Quite textbook if I do say so myself."

Mason’s face started to flood with a red anger. He was beginning to look like a tomato fit to burst. Lazarus however, was more than calm, in fact he seemed almost content as he relished in Mason’s rage. Mason saw the cocky grimace on his subordinate and he stormed around his desk, fists clenched tighter than stone.

"Are you sure laying a hand on your Deputy is a good idea, Chief Mason? You already have quite a lot of heat on you."

Mason stopped suddenly as those words reached his ears.

"What are you talking about?"

"Have you checked Twitter lately?"

Mason’s hand retrieved his smartphone from his jacket pocket. In just a few short taps, the chief had accessed his social media. The world was now at his fingertips, and it was angry. Countless messages were screaming at him in an orchestra of confusion and frustration. Reports of police opening fire on civilians and rumors of officers going rogue. Doubt seeped through the hearts and minds of countless citizens and all of it was directed at the head of the ECPD. The world had made sure its voice was heard.

"The public is questioning your fidelity to the law. Some civilians are going as far as to spread misinformation to just add to the discord," Lazarus exclaimed

Mason stuttered in complete disbelief. Betrayal was the feeling that rushed through the police chief’s veins. The fact that a once loyal subordinate would turn on him during such a tumultuous moment. It was something unexpected and of great shock. Chief Mason was unsure what to do, besides lash out, but Lazarus continued to speak.

"Needless to say..."

Just then Lazarus threw his hands back behind his head as he began to lean into his seat. Out of the corner of the white suit’s gaze a flickering reflection of sunlight in the distance. A light reflected off a moving piece of glass. A malicious grin formed upon Lazarus’ face as he stared deep into the eyes of the police chief.

"...Your resignation has been demanded by our employer."

Mason’s eyes reeled in realization. The last sentence he heard sent chills down his spine. He broke into a cold sweat, one that only lasted for a moment. Mason watched Lazarus’ gaze shift to the window, prompting the chief to do the same. Just then, the hulk of a man fell forward onto the ground as blood slowly bubbled up from an exit wound in his head. A puddle of red emerged from the entry wound beneath. Chief Mason was dead.

"Rest in peace, Chief Mason."

Lazarus stood up from his seat and picked up the chief’s phone, which had landed beside his corpse. A thick, matured English voice spoke from the entryway while Lazarus snapped pictures of the scene. The voice seemed to come out of nowhere as its holder approached Lazarus.

"Any trouble?" the Englishman asked calmly.

"No," responded Lazarus as he looked back at the man to get a good look at him.

The Englishman shared the same radiant features as Lazarus and Regis. Ivory locks of long hair were slicked back and draped just above the elderly man’s shoulders. The only other hair found on his head belonged to a well-kept mustache that only aided in marking his age. His red eyes seemed to have the brightest glow to them compared to Lazarus and Regis, as if to signify his superiority. His face was gently adorned in wrinkles, placing the man somewhere in his fifties or sixties even. The man was like a fine wine, old, but beautiful and complex. His figure was broad for an elderly man, and his heavy clothes only added more to his brute figure. A large tan duster draped over his shoulders like a cape while his body was clad in a white button up shirt and black pants. A shining black vest sat over top the white shirt and heavily contrasted the red ascot puffed out from the man’s collar. Black combat boots clunked on the ground with the weight of the man’s steps as he approached Lazarus.

"So what happens now, Alvis?" Lazarus asked the elderly man.

"I believe you become the next Chief of Police," responded Alvis in his prim and proper tone.

"Ooh~! Lazarus is chief now! That was fast!"

Just as the room stirred into a silence, Regis entered with a M1903 Springfield rifle slung over his back, a scope and bayonet were fixed to the old rifle. He was severely under dressed compared to the other two men. Even his attitude was completely contrary to the calm tones of Lazarus and Alvis. Regis seemed to enjoy his job almost too much.

"It’s good to see you, Regis," Alvis remarked.

"Likewise, Alvis. So with Lazarus becoming chief, does that mean the real fun can start?"

Both Lazarus and Alvis simply nodded and looked back behind them at the window of the former chief’s office. The sun was shining high in the sky above the city. The city full of ignorant people. Soon, those that were asleep would be rudely awoken to the world and only the god Abraxas knew what was to come of them.

*****

Back in New York, America’s precautions were well into their planning phase. CAPRA wasn’t going to just let the opportunity they were presented with slip away. The United States was greatly concerned with the affairs of Evo City now that it had so abruptly entered the world stage after years of silence. Agent Wolf had been called to the office of Director Margrave, the man responsible for leading CAPRA’s operations. The meeting that followed would define the face of CAPRA’s movements in the coming days. Wolf was sitting at the table with a grizzled man staring at him firmly. He was a stone cold man in a suit, he looked the part of a government stiff almost too well. A few scars painted him as an old dog of war, but those days didn’t seem to be as far behind as Wolf thought.

"So how do you want this to play out, Wolf?" Director Margrave asked, his voice gravelly and deep.

The second Margrave’s words reached Wolf’s ears, his eyes immediately averted their gaze from the picture sat atop Margrave’s desk. The picture was of Director Margrave in casual wear with two young women at his side. The girl that stood to the right always seemed to make Wolf ever so curious. He never imagined that Margrave had a family. It was just another mystery for Wolf to entertain his mind with, but after shifting his gaze Wolf focused on more pressing matters.

"With all due respect, I was hoping to ask you the same thing," responded Wolf in a calm manner.

Margrave sighed deeply before giving his briefing to the battle worn Agent.

"The Secretary of Defense is already looking to put troops on the ground. I plan to have you and Agent Leo sent with them."

"You’re pairing me with Leo?" Wolf asked in a rather disappointed tone.

"Despite recent events, we are still a covert organization. Our involvement must be kept to a minimum. You’re being sent to Evo City because you know the area, but I can’t afford to have my best Agent pursuing personal vendettas. Leo will be there to keep an eye on you. That being said, the two of you will be accompanied by a third Agent."

Wolf’s gaze seemed to change as intrigue took his mind hostage. Who else would be valuable to the mission? Most of the other Agents were busy working other angles, or focusing on keeping the country free of anomalies.

"He isn't exactly one of ours. He is a British national, a PI. He is the best in his field and has been working closely with us for a number of years now," Margrave continued.

"What’s his name?"

"Anon."

*****

Elsewhere, in London, the sound of a news report resonated throughout a small apartment. The room was dark, with only the light of a television to illuminate it. The blinds were all pulled down to block the remaining beams of sunlight cast down by an afternoon sky. The light of the television fully lit the image of a sullen man. His entire being focused solely on the television as he sat cross legged on the couch.

"And now we come back to a story that has the world’s complete attention. Tensions continue to climb in the reclusive Evo City as the island’s Chief of Police was found dead this morning. A single gunshot to the head was identified to be the cause of death. Pictures of the crime scene were leaked to major news outlets across the world by an unknown source. At this time the ECPD refuses to comment on the matter. The United States Secretary of Defense released a statement in response to these issues, threatening Evo City with intervention if these matters persist. The US has already put together a naval force headed by Captain Jane Stonewall..."

The young man let out a disappointed sigh as his eyes glazed over the report. As it droned on, the light to his apartment was suddenly switched on causing the man to nearly jump out of his own skin. The light revealed the full stature of the bizarre individual who resided in that cramped space. His skin was rather pale due to a severe lack of sunlight. His silver hair fell down his back in messy strands that seemed to scatter and split off in all directions. A plethora of short and long bangs fell past or sat above his dulled brown eyes. Bright red circles were more than visible beneath those dreary, sunken optics, which more or less indicated a severe lack of sleep. The man seemed to run on no sleep at all, which in and of itself was a miracle. His face was angular and yet seemed almost droopy in a way. Even the clothes the man wore reflected his sleep deprived existence. A red and black beanie was worn loosely over his head, but did nothing to hide his messy argent locks. A plain black sweater was simply draping over the man’s lanky body as it was a size too big. The entire right side of the garment seemed to settle around the young insomniac’s shoulder, showing some of his skin. Dusty jeans clung to the man’s legs and were supported by a studded belt. He sighed in irritation as he curled his toes, which hid in the comfort of two socks of completely different colors and patterns.

"You know I don’t enjoy being startled like that," the young man stated in a rather uninterested and emotionless accent.

A smooth English voice spoke from the doorway as another man entered the room with a smile of mischief on his face. He was far better put together than the couch potato that lie before him. His hair was about as long as the insomniac’s, but it was a shimmering shade of obsidian and was wavy like a violent sea of ink. The man’s eyes were like that of hell spawn, a fiery shade of amber that almost glowed with the warmth of a sly gaze. He was far fairer than his companion and looked far healthier. His figure was less lanky, but most certainly wasn’t bolstered by excess fat or muscle. His face was sharp enough to pierce the heart of any love-struck woman who looked at him. He had the look of a romanticist, but looks can be deceiving. Beneath the man’s outstanding looks was the heart of schemer. He was Lucifer made flesh and those devilishly charming looks were adorned with a professional set of attire fit for a conman. A simple black suit clad the man’s figure, accompanied with a white shirt and bright blue tie. A Japanese scabbard was clutched in the man’s hand. A magnificent katana lie within the hard wooden sheath with its vibrant blue wrapping around the grip displayed with grace and pride.

"Still watching that?" the devilish man asked.

"It's starting Myst. Just like he said it would."

It seemed the good looking man in the suit was named Myst.

"An-! Anon, are you certain you are ready to make your return to the world?" Myst asked with worry in his voice.

"You almost said my real name again. That’s twenty-six times now. To answer your question, no. You are going on ahead of me," Anon responded in his completely uninterested tone.

Myst rubbed his eyes with his fingers in irritation as Anon’s orders hit him in the chest like a cinder block.

"Of bloody course… Where am I heading too?"

"America, the Federal Plaza in New York City. Someone will meet you there," Anon explained.

"Am I speaking as you or for you?"

"Speak as me. Like I said, I'm not quite ready yet. When I am ready, we will meet in Evo City."

"Very well. When will I be leaving?"

Anon exhaled for a moment and paused before inhaling a deeper breath. Countless calculations passed through his brain in mere seconds until finally he reached his answer.

"Immediately. I’m sure I can get the Americans to arrange a private jet or something. We will be apart for quite some time so I wish you luck."

Myst simply nodded and headed out the door. He made sure to switch off the light before leaving, he would hate to inconvenience Anon in such a way. He was too peculiar a man.

*****

Back in New York there was one final loose end left. One final player to add to the already cluttered board. The swordsman in the black coat, Genesis. Both he and Talon sat at a bar drinking away their problems while the news displayed coverage of the Evo City attack. Talon was in casual attire for the occasion. It wasn’t anything terribly special, just a large pink hoodie and white short shorts, paired with a peculiar pair of high tops. The shoes seemed to have a mural of the galaxy printed onto the fabric. Talon sighed to herself after hammering back a glass of whiskey. Despite such a petite look, she was a hard drinker.

"So, are you going back then?" Talon asked, completely unaffected by her now second glass of whiskey.

"What choice do I have? Besides, I'm more worried that you can't handle another anomaly," Genesis remarked.

Talon simply smiled as she gripped her now third glass of whiskey and took her first huge sip.

"We'll be fine on our own. I nearly killed you once, I can more than take care of myself. You just make sure that everything is okay on the home front."

Genesis nodded with a friendly smile. He raised his own glass of alcohol to which Talon clinked her glass against.

"Thanks Talon."

"Don't mention it. You better get going, I'll have Camellia call you a VTOL."

Genesis nodded and threw down a tip for the bartender before putting on his coat and walking towards the door. Talon yelled out to him as he walked towards the exit.

"Hey Gen! Be careful out there!"

"You too."