There were always strange happenings in the underground tunnels. They had begun to diminish after Nox had cleared them out - apparently with the Ascendancy. How odd that Nox had some sort of relationship with the most powerful man on earth. It had also displaced a lot of people. Most of them were holed up at a church of some sort - led by a self proclaimed “Angel of the Undercity.”

But with the threats being diminished, that meant the rumors of weirdness had more credibility. There were a couple of rumors that grabbed Ricky’s attention. A old woman needing help and who went with her didn’t come back. Another woman who seemed possessed. So it could be multiple things. A harpy was most likely for the first. The second could be a wefuke or a ijiraq. Still both were worth investigating further. He hoped for the harpy. He could kill that without killing a person too.  

So Ricky packed up his pistols and loaded a backpack with extra ammo, rations, and a change of clothing. Carrying a damn near corpse like Nox on his back had made the change of clothing a standard in his go bag now. He also carried several fully charged power packs. He had told Hayden he had been an Eagle Scout. That hadn’t been a lie. He was always ready. On top of that, he was glad he had made friends with Nox. The mapping of the tunnels came in handy. 

Ricky had no magic so he had to use mundane things to see in the darkness he had a light clipped to his coat that allowed him to keep his hands free in case he had to pull out his fire arms. A noise in a side tunnel caught his attention. It could be anything - a person, a creature, a cat, or any thing else. But he was searching for a monster. He moved down the side tunnel to see what was there. Perhaps his quarry was in this direction.

Quinn Decimus

Age: 26

Origin: Rivington Folly, England; Moscow

Occupation: Aspiring Novelist

Psychological Description of Character: Quinn isn’t unhappy, but she often feels like she doesn’t belong and is lonely for reasons she doesn’t understand. An introverted extrovert, she likes to be around people, but is often quiet, speaking when she has something to add or is excited.

Physical Description: 5’5” tall with blonde hair and green eyes. 

Supernatural Powers: Vidient - VIII: The Flame

Reborn God: Eurydice

• Subtle paranormal elements (rather than loud fantasy)
  
• Emotional interiority and loneliness
  
• Found family and fractured lineage
  
• Moral ambiguity around power
  
• Atmospheric, candlelit gothic tones
  
• Themes of belonging, legacy, and inherited purpose
  
• Letters, journals, and layered narrative structures
  

The journey out of the Zone felt unreal. Kaelan kept waiting for symptoms. On the drive back to the airport, he monitored himself obsessively checking his pupils in the rearview mirror, palpating the lymph nodes at his jaw, tracking his heart rate on the portable wallet-sync patch still adhered beneath his collarbone. He half-expected nausea, vertigo, and a metallic taste blooming across his tongue any minute but nothing came.

Nazariy sat beside him in the transport van. He did not marvel at the paved roads or the returning traffic. He didn’t ask questions. He simply watched. At the checkpoint, Kaelan insisted on a radiation scan. Twice. The portable dosimeter passed over his body in smooth arcs. Elevated exposure, yes, but not catastrophic. Within tolerable limits for short-term presence. Kaelan reasoned that his bone marrow would survive. His genome, for now, remained obedient, but he was going to do advanced testing on himself weekly for the next six months just in case. By the time they boarded the jet to Moscow, Kaelan’s anxiety had thinned to a manageable hum. He could think again and strategize. He had done it. He had walked into Chernobyl and walked out unconsumed. And he had brought something with him.

Moscow rose in glass and light. After the skeletal silence of Pripyat, the city felt obscenely alive, with traffic highways like glowing arteries and towers piercing the clouds like spears. Paragon dominated the research district. The skyscraper twisted upward in elegant defiance of gravity, its surface reflecting sky and garden alike. Kaelan allowed himself the smallest flicker of pride as he watched Nazariy’s reaction. “This,” he said quietly, adjusting his coat, “is where real work happens.”

They crossed through the main entrance. Replica technologies stood in illuminated cases like relics of a benevolent future: bionic limbs with synth-skin seamless as flesh, retinal implants displayed in rotating holographic projection, testimonials glowing in soft blue script overhead. The AI assist chimed gently as they stepped inside. “Welcome to Paragon Group. How may I assist you today?”

Kaelan ignored it. He didn’t need assistance. He belonged here, and a glance at the scanner’s direction should flag the system of his arrival within seconds. The human receptionist recognized him immediately however. Clearance codes transferred with a subtle flick of his wrist against the security panel, and the elevators opened without delay. Nazariy’s reflection multiplied in the mirrored walls as they ascended. Like the various high clearance divisions, the Genome Division required deeper clearance. So did Ascendant, and Kaelan had both.

Before anything else, he routed himself through Medical. Full panel bloodwork. Bone marrow scan. Rapid cytogenetic screening. Gamma burden quantification. Nanoscopic sweep for foreign bioactivity. He submitted to it all with clipped impatience, standing beneath white light while machines hummed around him. Hours later, preliminary results populated his tablet, but he only gave it a cursory scan before taking a deeper dive into the results once he could be alone. It was enough to feel clean, for now.

Nazariy, meanwhile, drew attention. Not alarm, but curiosity. He’d already informed Ephraim and the team of Nazariy’s imminent arrival as a research subject. Given that he had no birth certificate or any legal existence at all, Paragon had special ways to hand wave the paperwork.

“He’s with me,” Kaelan said simply whenever he was asked. That was enough for the underlings.

Temporary residential quarters were arranged in one of Paragon’s internal housing levels similar to the controlled accommodations used for certain research participants. It was comfortable, but most important, it was  ontained.

The room had reinforced walls and discreet monitoring systems embedded behind panels as well as adjustable climate control, private washroom, and fresh clothing laid out. Real food would be delivered on a schedule.
Not a cell, but not entirely freedom either.

Kaelan watched Nazariy take in the space. The clean lines. The absence of rot. The quiet hum of climate filtration.

“You’ll be comfortable here,” Kaelan assured him. “Safer than the Zone. No Shaykra. I promise.”

Testing protocols were already drafting themselves in his mind. Controlled exposure trials. Dermal response mapping. Electromagnetic field analysis during spore activation. Genetic sequencing. Whole genome comparison against baseline human markers. Epigenetic irregularities. Possible chimerism screening. Proteomic profiling.

And the spores.

He had secured many viable samples from the concrete smear. Stored in negative-pressure containment in Genome Division.

If the black responded to Nazariy biologically, pheromonally, thermally, or electromagnetically, Paragon would find the mechanism. And if it was something more…

His thoughts flickered briefly toward Ascendant Division. Toward the gap between channelers and non-channelers. Toward Project Visakanya. Toward severance.

What if this wasn’t fungus? What if it was a superintelligence interface? Kaelan clasped his hands behind his back, watching Nazariy from across the room.

“You’ll rest tonight,” he said, voice measured. “Tomorrow we begin.”

He felt that thrill from the concrete slab in Chernobyl again. The moment the black recoiled from him but embraced Nazariy. This wasn’t just discovery. It was leverage. And for the first time since Shayka stripped him to shivering bone, Kaelan felt something stronger than fear.

Control.

Until then, he had to meet personally with Ephraim and explain everything man to man.

PetuniaBlossoms76:

I lost my mom in the storm. She told me about my dad and was setting a meeting with him soon, but didn’t make it in time. I don’t know his name or anything about him. He might be my only family. I don’t know where to look at all. How do I find him?

If what Adam heard was true, for once he was glad to be stuck in Paragon's basement. The weather was apparently quite bad. Adam was used to being down here alone, and mostly that sucked. Despite his disfigurement, he was missing social interaction. He was terrified of it at the same time. It was a strange dichotomy.

Right now, the room was quiet. Adam didn't want to listen to anything as he field stripped his pistol.  He had no ammunition and it hadn't been fired, so everything should be fine, but the process filled the time. He had asked Victor to make sure. Besides the sensors in the grip and sights, it was mostly the same as a normal one - at least in the sense that he could disassemble it as any other firearm. The process wasn't necessary today. The gun was immaculate, but it was a time. 

The lack of sound wasn't unusual. Adam often worked in silence unless he was talking with Eva or L0-9. He wondered how L0-9's friend was handling this storm. Briefly he hoped she was alright. Adam would ask the next time the LUMA spoke with him. Sometimes Adam listened to music while he worked, but it wasn't all the time. He had learned most of Cadence's music library by now. The biggest change in his environment was the light. Adam was no longer sitting in darkness as much. Since he had been tested, he felt better about what he was, even if what he could do was scary.

Adam reassembled his pistol and admired it once more. It was an elegant weapon. He hoped that sometime after the storm ended, he could do some live fire practice. The weapon reassembled, Adam put it back in its case and slid it under his bed. He should see about getting a safe to store it in after things calmed down a bit. Adam took a shower and got dressed. There wasn't much more he could really do today. Like so many things in the army, he had a lot of down time when nothing specific had to be done. He grabbed a random book and began to read. Just another thing to fill the time.

Parents: Erast and Bella Aksakova
Siblings: Lada (19) and Nikon (17),
Half brother: Rafael Janssen (26) -- unknown

Age: 21 (2047) -- Birthdate: Aug 8th

Description: 5'5"(1.651m) weighing approximately 140lbs(63.5kg) with natural blond hair

Reborn God: Ninkasi was the Mesopotamian goddess of beer and brewing

Channeler: Learner

Occupation: Student at Moscow University -- Fashion Journalism

Psychological: A social butterfly, center of attention and life of the party. She isn't a socialite but wants to be and will do anything in her power to get there. As long as you aren't taking her down she's warm and generous  but get in the way of her fun and she goes the total opposite direction.  She's self-centered and lazy unless it's about getting what she wants to have a good time/fun.  Then she'll do anything.  Her tastes are expensive -- well beyond what she can afford.  She likes bright colors and her clothes always stand out in a crowd.  She does not like to be ignored.

[[OoC: this thread takes place before the new year and the snowfall]]

Today was the day. Victor wanted to see how well the implants were taking and wanted an idea of Adam’s limits. Adam had slowly reacclimated himself to exercise. Within days of beginning to exercise again, he was at the numbers he had been doing before the implants had been installed. At the same time, he wasn’t working as hard to do it. It was kind of amazing how well they were working. This had been reported to Victor, but he wanted to see it and to push it. 

Adam arrived in the gym section of the building at the appropriate time. Mr. Haart had told him he intended to be there, so Adam wasn’t surprised to see the Paragon CEO there with Victor. ”Good Morning, Mr. Haart, Victor,” he said, his greeting more cordial and respectful to Mr. Haart. If Victor noticed, he didn’t say anything, but that was normal. 

Victor approached him. ”Alright - we’re going to do a series of tests today. Some cardio and resistance work to see how well the implants have taken. You’ve reported back to me, positive results. We’re going to try to push those limits today. When it’s too much, let me know so we can have an understanding of your limits. Do you understand?”

The entire set of instructions was spoken without any inflection. That was also typical. ”Yes,” he responded matter of factly. ”I did a warm-up, so I’m ready to start when you are.”

Victor actually showed he was pleased at that moment. It was a strange thing to see. ”Perfect. Would you like to start with cardio or resistance?”

Adam elected to do weights first - simply because he doubted Mr. Haart would enjoy watching him run so much. He didn’t know how long Mr. Haart planned on staying. He didn’t expect him to stay long. He went through his lifting routine, starting first with his normal as a benchmark. It seemed incredibly easy. Then they added more - and more - and more. When he had doubled his normal weight he began to feel more resistance. He was able to dead lift triple his body weight, and with one hand he was able to lift at two and a half times his body weight. Victor was talking excitedly about it to Mr. Haart, showing him the numbers from before he had received the implants. So far - everything was exceeding expectations.

Ezvin waited near the edge of the riverwalk where the lights from the carnival bled into the dark water, turning it into a ribbon of gold and color. The air carried the smells burnt sugar, liquor, oil from frying dough, and the faint odor of the river itself. Somewhere behind him, a guitar played a tune that was just a little too slow, just a little too warped to be comforting. He felt good.

Not the sharp, restless kind of good that came from chasing something new, but the smooth, settled confidence of a man exactly where he wanted to be. His coat was warm, scarf loose, hair behaving for once. He checked his reflection briefly in the dark glass of a ticket booth and allowed himself a small, approving nod. Nights like this suited him.

The carnival sprawled away from the embankment like a fever dream. Strings of lights zigzagged overhead. The tents leaned into one another as if sharing secrets. A tarot reader smoked beneath a velvet awning, cards laid out like an accusation.

Further down, a sign promised TRUE GHOSTS, REAL VOICES, and Ezvin made a mental note to check about that later. Across the way, a row of game stalls glowed with impossible optimism, stuffed animals hanging in neat rows like colorful trophies waiting to be claimed.

He slipped his wallet from his pocket, checked the time, and smiled.

He leaned back against the railing and watched people pass: lovers wrapped together, strangers brushing hands, performers in half-costumes laughing too loudly. Ezvin’s thoughts flicked, briefly, to how Cadence had looked earlier that day, all curious and bright, just on the edge of something new. He liked that edge. He liked being there when people stepped over it. He also liked that she’d said yes so easily.

She hadn’t been sleeping well, which explained why she was already halfway through her second latte. The café buzzed with the low, constant murmur of ambition. Men and women in suits clustered around small tables, voices pitched just above polite, screens glowing with schedules and projections. Corporate types, all of them.

It was only a block from the Radiance Hotel, which served coffee perfectly well, but Colette had still slipped through the lobby early, coat buttoned tight against the winter morning. She needed the feeling of being just another woman at a small table, not watched like a bird in a cage at Radiance.

She had just started composing a message to her mother when her wallet chimed.

It was Evelyn. Colette smiled before she even opened it.

“Darling,” Colette said as the call connected. “It’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

“Colette,” Evelyn replied, genuinely pleased. “You’re up early.”

Evelyn always sounded warm and effortless, as if intimacy was her native language. It gave the impression that they’d been friends for decades, even though their acquaintance was far more recent.

Colette glanced around the café, then back at the screen. “Oh it’s nothing. I’ve been a bit restless lately” Colette said lightly. “And besides, I’m happy to have caught you. How are you holding up? My mother has been worried. I was just about to send her a message.”

Evelyn’s voice softened. “Things have been challenging, but we are going to come through. We have to be patience But what about you? Are you still at the Radiance?”

“For now,” Colette said. “I suspect that won’t last.”

“Awe,” Evelyn sounded sympathetic. “Is everything okay?”

Colette looked away briefly, ready to change the topic. The truth was, she wasn’t sure what was wrong nor why she was so uncomfortable at the hotel.

“It’s a lovely hotel.” She said.

Evelyn’s eyes sharpened just a touch, the way they always did when conversation edged toward substance. “Have you had an opportunity,” Evelyn asked carefully, “to speak with the Ascendancy yet?”

Colette took a sip of her latte, buying herself a moment. “Not formally. We’ve met socially. He was quite cordial.” She chose the word with care. “And I’ve been invited to see him. An appointment is pending.”

Evelyn’s expression suggested both interest and restraint. “That’s quite something, even so.”

“I’m under no illusions,” Colette said. “An invitation is not influence. It’s simply a door left ajar.”

“But one worth stepping through,” Evelyn said. Then, after a few moments she added, “In the meantime, I wondered if you might be open to another introduction.”

Colette’s brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”

“A woman I think you’d find very cordial,” Evelyn continued. “It’s Natalie Northbrook. She’s been building something very practical. Something protective. A place for women like us to work, train, and exist without having to ask permission or apologize for the space we take.”

Colette leaned back in her chair, interest sharpening into focus. “That does sound intriguing.”

“I thought it might,” Evelyn said, smiling. “I believe the two of you could be… very complementary.”

“Yes,” she said simply. “I think I’d like to meet her.”

Evelyn’s smile widened with satisfaction. “Wonderful. I’ll make the arrangements.”