"A world in chaos is a world in order."

Those words echoed through Char's mind, playing back like a track forced to repeat. How long had it been since he stood up against that statement? He gently leaned back in his chair, turning to face the large screen windows that covered the wall of his office. Staring out at that jagged and rocky horizon, he reflected back on what the view would have looked like years ago. Green vegetation and lush waters would have lined the very peaks and valleys he bore witness to. All that remained now was a dull, flat range of dirt, destroyed by the years of fighting that man had waged.

Char sharply spun back around to face his desk, folding his hands and resting his head upon them. He gave a slight wince as his hand brushed across his face, a painful reminder of what had been sacrificed to achieve the world that lay before him. At one time, he would have been a charming and handsome man to look at, but his research and plans had cost him that fortune. He ran his fingers across the left side of his face, taking in the details of the burned and wrinkled scar tissue. Was it worth it?

Char pushed himself up off his desk and promptly stood and smoothed the wrinkles out of the dark, ruby red uniform he wore. While his face would bear wrinkles, he at least had power over that aspect of his appearance. He glanced down at his shined black shoes, a texture seldom witnessed anymore, the world covered by the grit of calamity.

A sudden approach of footsteps caused Char to quickly snap to attention in the direction of his door. He quickly spun on his heels to face the door, and folded his hands behind his back, much like one would see from an army commander ready to be briefed. As the large metallic doors slid open, two soldiers, clad in uniform passed through into the office.

The two soldiers came to a sudden halt, throwing a quick salute to Char and awaited their command to be at ease. For a normal person, their appearance would be terrifying. Standing, on average, around 6ft 5in, each of the men looked like something out of a war fiction. Their armored plates gleamed with a silver shine, a stark contrast to the black clothing they wore. Covering their faces were masks desinged to filter out any toxins and dust, ensuring that each soldier could perform in any environment.

"At ease men." Upon giving the command Char himself relaxed his posture. He knew the soldiers wouldn't come to him unless something important had come up. The first soldier quickly gave a nod and stepped forward, a folder in his hand. He reached forward, presenting the document to Char for inspection.

"Sir, these are the reports you asked for about the ambush attacks that have been occuring in Marlow city. Inside you will find detailed incident reports covering the attacks, as well as the inuries that both recovered and lost units suffered."

As Char grasped the documents from the soldier, he could detect there was an eagerness in his eyes despite them being hidden behind two red lenses. Cradling the folder in one hand, Char flipped open the file and began thumbing through the pages. Each report seemed to be more of the next, units reported to have hit by guerilla warfare tactics, with some units reporting an attacker that fought hand to hand with "flaming" fists. Char felt his heart skip a beat upon reading it, an excitement he had not felt in a long time. It has to be her. It couldn't be anybody else.

Char squeezed the file back shut and raised his gaze to meet the soliders, "You're dismissed. Report back to your advisor for your next task." The two soldiers quickly gave another salute and marched back out the door in the direction from which they came. Char stood in silence for a moment, reflecting on the absolution of the soldiers. Engineered to do the bidding of Helix, they never questioned what they were assigned or what they had to do. It was a freedom he envied at times.

File in hand, Char paced out of his office and toward the central elevator. As he passed through the halls, researchers and soldiers alike broke from what they were doing to offer a quick nod or salute, showing their respect to the man that had led them to where they are now. To them, he was a hero, but for Char himself, he had done nothing more than what was necessary to bring the world to a peaceful respite. He often loathed the admiration he was shown by those around him, due not only to his current appearance but at what morals he had abandoned in order to bring about that peace. Nonetheless, he knew that it had to be done.

Rounding out the final hallway, Char quickly mashed the call button for the elevator. A quick thud from behind the steel doors was followed by the sound of the pulley wrenching the elevator up to the top floor of the Helix Tower. In a few moments there was a distinct ding, and the doors slid back to allow access. Char quickly stepped inside and moved to the floor selection panel. He quickly thumbed a key from his back pocket and inserted it into the lock built into the selection panel. With a turn of the key, the elevator began to descened to the Tower's lowest floors, the executive sections.

Grinding to a halt at the bottom floor, Char gaited forward out of the elevator and into the dimly lit corridor. Proceeding down the left side, he approached the executive conference room. The black and gold engraved door was a standout from the rest of the plainly adorned corridor, but the board of executives had always been keen on elegance when it came to their meeting places.

Char gave the gold handle a quick turn and proceeded to push the door open. Before he could even make it through the door, he met the gaze of Faust. Sitting at the end of the long conference table, coffee in hand sat a large man wearing a white lab coat. His balding hairstyle and ragged beard would lead one to assume his age to be much higher than its actuality. He quickly gave his glasses a tug upwards, and gave a small smirk to Char.

"So, I take it that we have big news to discuss?" Faust's deep voice would rattle those unaccustomed to him, but Char had grown quite used to his dialect over the years.

"Yes. We most certainly do. It's her."

The sound of broken glass suddenly rang throughout the room. Coffee began running across the long square table, crafting a river across its dark surface. Faust's eyes had widened to that of saucers, signs that the news was just as important to him as Char himself.

"You're sure? There's no mistake this time?" Faust could barely contain the excitement in his voice. How long they had searched for her, the key to all of their questions. An answer to the problems that riddled their research, a possibility of creating the perfection of their asipirations.

"Yes, I am absolutely sure. There's too many similarties. This goes beyond mere rumors and speculations. All the ambushed units reported the same thing. "Flaming" fists." Char himself felt the excitement building inside of him. It was like watching dawn break for the first time on a night that lasted forever.

"We have no time to waste then. We've got to track her and the rest down before she escapes from us again." Faust was now standing, ready to leap forward at a moments notice.

"I'm aware Faust. We'll organise squadrons and begin moving our men into Marlow city. We'll have to route them out, but we will make sure she won't escape this time." Char laid the file down on the table and turned, striding out of the door and towards their command center...