Walking in to Manifesto on a cold winter's night was an exercise in contrast. The darkness of the outside changed to vibrant colors; the frigid winter air changed to the warmth of heat and bodies pressed together. The biggest change for Elend, however, was the change in sound. Outside the building was quiet. People waiting for their cabs or those just passing by had quiet conversations, while the slight sound of booming bass from the inside tried to permeate the building's walls. The conversations disappeared upon entering the club. The volume increased as you approached the club proper, and upon entering the main area with the dance floor, the music was deafening. It was a place in which Elend felt at home.

Elend worked his way through the crowd. He had just arrived, and although he had arrived alone, he was hoping to not leave that way tonight. Still there was a time for that. Right now, he was in the mood for a drink. Crossing the dance floor took some time.  It was a busy night and dancing was almost standing room only. It took time to make his way to the vodka bar.  Elend was recognized. He was a fairly regular customer here.  He got his drink and moved to the side.

Elend's face turned to the crowd and he began to look. In one hand he held his glass, bringing it to his lips to take a slow drag off of the liquid. Elend, well dressed in a fine suit, ran his free hand through his hair as leaned against the wall.  Although his gaze moved through the crowd, his mind began to wander, thinking about his research.  The Fountain of Youth and the Tree of Life had to be out there somewhere, but his research had revealed little. Elend was certain the Ascendancy knew something. His ageless face at the very least meant something. Maybe his cult of worshippers did as well. 

Elend blinked the thoughts away.  That's not why he was here.  He had been searching too much, and his mind was no longer clear.  What he needed was a distraction - a way to clear his head.  He'd find someone here, he was sure of it. His gaze went back to the crowd, scanning for familiar faces - or those who would just be in the mood for some mingling. 

Elend's eyes would linger at times at the DJ's podium, where it was likely Ozy was stationed.  The man was the face of the club, and a beautiful face it was. Here, the man was a god, worshiped not for his ability to use the power (as far as Elend knew he couldn't), but for his skills as a DJ. Devotion to him was certainly merited.  The thought brought Elend back to thoughts of immortality. A man like that - well - agelessness would be a good fit for him. There were rumors that Ozy was actually going to be leaving Manifesto - that he had found something else. That was certainly interesting gossip. It made Elend wonder if the crowd size here would decrease in his absence. 

Elend took another pull off his drink and sighed contentedly. It was a good night to be out. It was a good night to clear his head. Tonight, he'd find his good time. Tomorrow, he'd be back to the grind. Several options were available to him. He could continue his research. That could take him to the Sanctuary of the Ascendant Flame.  Regardless of if it would help, Elend was curious to meet this "Luminar." Forming a cult required a particular personality. He could do work for Arc too.  Cadence Mathis was recording in one of his studios. He also heard Ezvin was working with her. Ezvin was talented, and Elend really wished he could get Ezvin to join his staff full time. The man seemed to like the freelancing life though. It would probably be a good idea to make an appearance with Cadence for professional reasons. Elend chuckled.  Once again, his mind was roaming.  Tonight was about clarity.

Ozymandias Kassim, DJ, nightlife icon, digital-era hedonist

Age: 24
Origin: Singapore
Occupation: DJ
Past lives: Narcissus, Don Juan
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Ozymandias Kassim, better known to fans as Ozy, comes from Singapore’s upper-class. The Kassim family was old money, polished, and respected, but never quite dominant in the hierarchy of the city’s elite. That didn’t matter. Ozy didn’t just inherit status, he claimed it for himself.

He was a force from the start. Mischievous, magnetic, impossible to discipline. But he learned early how to avoid warnings and discipline by leaning into his greatest strengths. By fifteen, he had his first viral clip. By sixteen, his own cult following. With a face like an angel and an instinct for how to hold an audience in thrall, Ozy craved attention, and easily found it.

Naturally, he ended up dating the city’s most desirable prize: Jia Xin Kao, the immaculate daughter of the most powerful family in Singapore. She was disciplined elegance, practically royalty, and perfectly polished like glass, but Ozy was the wildfire that might have cracked her. They were a media fantasy for eight breathless months: yacht photos, movie cameos, co-branded merchandise drops. And then, just as quickly, it ended.

The Kao family never publicly commented, but rumors swirled. Some said they disapproved of Ozy’s online persona. Others claimed he slept with one of Jia Xin’s cousins. Whatever the truth, Jia Xin wasn’t seen with him again, and Ozy moved on. Visibly. After Jia Xin, he was never again seen with the same person twice in a row.

At eighteen, Ozy immersed himself into music. Not only for its art, but for the command he found he could exert with it. He taught himself the language of sound, of control, of setting moods and snapping minds in half with nothing more than a change of beat. By twenty, he was already headlining underground parties in Tokyo, Seoul, and Berlin. At twenty-three, he moved to Moscow, where the myth of Ozymandias solidified.

Now, he is the face of Manifesto. There, Ozy stands above the crowd like a modern idol, watched by all and watching all. Rumor says that he is being recruited for something even bigger. It remains to be seen what he will do or where he will go next. Ozy never seems to stay in one place for long.

Personality

He doesn’t think of himself as arrogant. He simply believes he is more interesting, more deserving, and more important than the people around him. He assumes others are drawn to him because they recognize his value. And if they don’t, he quickly loses interest.

He relies on attention and admiration to maintain his self-worth. If people stop talking about him, he’ll make sure to give them something to talk about. He doesn’t like being questioned or criticized, and when he is, he either dismisses it completely or turns cold and cutting. He never admits fault. If a friendship or relationship ends badly, he tells himself it’s because the other person wanted too much, or because they never really understood him.

He’s charming. Very much so. He knows how to make people feel special, seen, and wanted. But it’s calculated. He knows what to say to get what he wants, and once he gets it, the connection fades. He doesn’t form real emotional bonds, and when someone tries to form one with him, he sees it as pressure or weakness.

Empathy is not his strong suit. He can mimic it well enough, especially in public or in bed, but in private he struggles to care about other people’s problems unless they directly affect him. He prefers to stay in control of his surroundings, his image, and his narrative. Anything he can’t control, he avoids.

Appearance

Ozy’s beauty isn’t soft. It’s arresting. His facial structure is sharp but symmetrical: high cheekbones, a straight nose, a strong jaw softened just enough by full lips.

His eyes are his most talked about feature. Pale, glacial blue with dark rims, intense without trying to be. People often describe them as either uncomfortably direct or completely vacant. His hair is tousled and artfully disheveled: deep brown with natural sun-caught glints. He wears it cropped at the sides, slightly longer up top, styled with the kind of effortlessness that costs thousands to maintain. His skin is golden-olive, smooth and luminescent under club lights, untouched by excess but somehow soaked in indulgence.

He wears eyeliner sometimes. Not for drama, but because it works. On Ozy, everything does. People stare when he enters a room. Some hate him for it. Most just can’t look away. He often wears earrings or layered necklaces: subtle, expensive, and always coordinated.

He stands just under six feet tall but often seems taller, thanks to the way he holds himself: chest forward, chin slightly raised, shoulders relaxed but alert. His body is toned but not bulky. His definition comes from maintenance, not discipline. No signs of overtraining or vanity workouts. He’s the kind of fit that looks effortless, like he was born knowing how to wear clothes well.

Associates



Ezvin Marveet - lover
Saelia Marveet - lover
Jaxen Marveet - ally
Jia Xin Kao - lover
Zixin Kao - ally
Gideon Marquis - lover
Guillaume de Volthström - lover
Elend Braitwaithe - lover

Character Age: 30


Origin: London, England


Occupation: VP of Music Production, Arc Entertainment, Moscow Branch - relatively easy gig for him as he spends a majority of his time delegating to his subordinates. 


Psychological Description: Intelligent, cunning, charismatic, and patient, Elend plays the long game.  He hides his dark nature behind a veneer of good nature. Besides being driven by personal gain, Elend is also driven by envy, vanity, and greed. He is perfectly willing to use cat’s paws and scapegoats to meet his goals.  He enjoys social gatherings even if he’s not trying to manipulate anyone.


Goals: Seeking eternal youth - specifically interested in The Fountain of Youth and the Tree of Life


Physical Description: A tall, thin man, with red hair and green eyes. He sports a well-trimmed  beard.


Supernatural Powers: Channeler


Current Strength: 10


Potential Strength: 40


Experience Level: New


Block: Must be in physical contact with whatever he is trying to manipulate with the power - ie. if he wants to set something on fire, he has to touch it first.


Reborn God: Lucifer


Biography:


Elend, to all appearances, is a well dressed, well mannered, and aristocratic gentleman. Growing up, he attended one of the finest private schools in London and later attended Oxford, graduating with high honors with an MBA.  Despite his outward appearance, Elend has a darkness within him that he cannot resist.  He is well aware of this, and doesn’t back away from it, instead he embraces it, showing himself as a more altruistic individual because it fits his long term plans.


As a child, Elend wanted for nothing.  His father, Jonas Braitwaithe, owns Arc Entertainment, an entertainment conglomerate with subsidiaries such as movie studios, video game developers, and music studios, so he grew up in a wealthy household, still, Elend always thought he deserved more. What he had was never enough for him. Taking things from others, however, had a less than desirable effect. He soon learned that in order to get more, he had to be more subtle. Thus he began to form his persona, a well-behaved young gentleman.  He was naturally charming and most authority figures began to see him as an honest boy. So when things disappeared, it was someone else - and he was believed. 


As he grew he continued crafting his outward persona, knowing that it hid something within. Patience became important to him because playing the long game yielded larger prizes. 


Di Inferi


Elend was thirteen when he discovered a strange amulet of an hourglass with the words “Momento Mori” stamped on it. Curious, Elend asked his father about it. His father then told him of the Di Inferi. The Braitwaithe family had long been a member of this organization, dedicated to the search for the key to immortality.


These stories only fueled Elend’s desires. This was what he had longed for and why things had never been enough. He deserved what the gods of old had - eternal youth. Elend began to study these stories, finally finding the purpose he had been searching for.  Two stories intrigued him the most - the Fountain of Youth and the Tree of Life. His research began.


High School and College


As an adolescent and young adult, Elend was a model student. He showed up for class and spent a significant amount of time in the library. The petty thefts of his childhood no longer interested him. Instead, he sought out relationships with people deemed powerful people.  This wasn’t always the popular ones, although he maintained a position in that particular clique. He was mostly interested in the influencers to gain the ears of others, and the easily manipulated to use as scapegoats for his schemes.


In his late high school and early college days, Elend attended multiple parties, often arranging them through his contacts. Entertainment and refreshments were provided, often in the forms of drugs and alcohol. Elend was never the host, and nothing would point to his involvement in planning the events. As far as anyone else was concerned, Elend’s involvement was only as an attendee of these soirees. Elend didn’t partake much in the drugs or alcohol, preferring to keep a clear head, but wasn’t beyond taking advantage of those who did. The parties themselves, although they were enjoyable for Elend, were not the point. He knew that he was using them to hone his skills of manipulation.


After graduating high school, Elend took a year off from schooling, taking the time to learn the ins and outs of his father’s business and traveling. Still his mind wandered back to his goal often, and he utilized opportunities to research the Fountain of Youth and the Tree of Life. He went to the Amazon, Florida, and the Middle East searching for more on the myths, but all he found was more stories.


After a year of travel, Elend attended Oxford, where he earned a Bachelor's Degree in Business Administration and later his MBA. A skilled guitarist and singer, Elend was given the position of Vice President of Music Production for the Moscow Branch of Arc. He moved to Moscow to begin his career at age 26.


Channelling


Elend had no shortage of romantic partners, both male and female. Most of these meant nothing to him - they were simply tools to be used for his enjoyment or other schemes. That changed when Elend was 25 and met Lyra.  Lyra was beautiful and intelligent, and was able to grab Elend’s heart in a way no other had been able to.  Elend soon found himself in a relationship with her and wanting to have that relationship.


Their closeness would be the downfall of their relationship.  As she got to know him better, Lyra began to see his subtle manipulations of those around them.  She listened as he whispered ideas to those around him and how he casually covered his tracks every time. She began to fear him, but eventually worked up the courage to confront him.


Elend hadn’t been confronted in such a way since he had been a child. He turned to her as she told him their relationship was over. He had never been rejected and had never been dismissed.  Greed took over as he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him.  He felt a sense of fury in his gut as he said “You will not leave me.”


Elend had been surprised by Lyra’s reaction.  He had expected fear or anger, but all he saw in her eyes as she whispered “Okay” was acceptance - obedience. They slept together that night, but when she woke up, before Elend, the spell over her had dissipated and she left.


A week later, Elend was racked by excruciating headaches and nausea - his first bout with the channeling sickness. As time progressed he would realize that he could make others do what he wanted in a different way than his typical manipulations. They were subtle, but a push with a thought could push them to do little things that he wanted, but only when he touched them, and each time it was accompanied by the fury inside of him.  Each instance was followed by sickness, increasing in intensity. He had realized, however, that there was a power within him that was awakening.


Elend used his power for the first time knowingly at age 28 when he was reunited with Lyra. She had also moved to Moscow.  Things were tense between the two individuals.  Lyra had not forgotten, but Elend had noticed the ring on her left hand. Jealousy took over. He took her hand, telling her he just wanted to apologize, but seized his power and sent the thought to her. “Kill them.” That night, Lyra killed her fiance and then took her own life. Elend, although he doesn’t regret his actions, sees this as a mistake - a time when he let his emotions take over and lost control. It’s a mistake he doesn’t want to make again.


As he reached 30, Elend learned that channelers like him existed.  He watched as the Ascendancy announce to the world these powers and saw a cult to worship him. Elend saw opportunity there. He barely understood his own powers, and this cult could assist him in learning how to control it completely. It might also offer an opportunity for Elend to get closer to the Ascendancy. He had noticed that the man didn’t seem to be aging.


Relationships/Acquaintances


Cadence Mathis - the two have never met, but her current “Embrace You” album is being recorded in one of his studios. 


Ezvin Marveet - Ezvin has produced several records for Arc, so at times, Elend was his employer.


Ozymandias Kassim - They met at a party in Berlin and later in Moscow. They slept together after both parties


Adrian Kane - They attended the same school growing up. They currently maintain a professional relationship in Moscow


Skills


Skilled musician - primarily guitar and vocals


Deceit - he’s spent a lifetime crafting his outward persona - very few know his true nature and personal goals


Negotiator - skilled at making business deals


Channeling Talent - compulsion - skilled with it, but prefers to use his charm to get people to his side - a willing thrall is more reliable than a forced one. He has an affinity for fire and spirit.


Other Interests


Traveling - it’s a hobby of his, but he also uses it for his Di Inferi research


The Ascendancy - The Ascendany’s lack of aging has intrigued Elend, leaving him to wonder if the Ascendancy knows the information he is looking for.


The Brotherhood of Ascendant Flame - Elend’s mostly interested in their library and sees this as a potential way to continue his research. He also has interest in learning more about channeling from them.

**A note on the soul of Lucifer - In past lives, Lucifer has been a good man, who through pride and envy has turned to the darkness. In this life, Lucifer's soul remembers his punishment from his fall, and this cycle has not been reset. See Wiki for more

Marta had met Matias a couple of days ago, but she found she had trouble getting him out of her mind. It wasn’t attraction or anything, but the encounter had inspired hope in her that she was doing the right thing. That fighting the cartels was possible. She had left him with a couple of hints, and she smiled to herself as she wondered if he had figured any of it out.

Ricky had texted her and Elyse - he was gone for the night, so she was in Elyse’s room. It wasn’t a school night, so Marta had no qualms with staying up late. It also meant Elyse was working. He had the room to herself for awhile. Marta was still trying to figure out coding. She knew that writing code was the key to breaking Wicked’s file encryption. She just was having trouble putting the pieces together. She wasn’t so much book smart, so it was taking longer than she had expected. She’d get there eventually, but tonight she needed a break. 

Marta actually had quite a bit of money. She didn’t spend much, and had saved most of her allowances. She spent some time shopping for Christmas gifts. For most of the kids she got some nice treats to enjoy. She got something a little more special for Sterling, Nox, and Hayden. She’d already got gifts for Elyse and Ricky. Then the thought came that she should get something for Wicked. She put something in her cart and ordered it. She could get it to Sage somehow she believed. Sky would probably help, but she wanted to try to keep Sage from figuring out what it was. It was impossible to hide it from him - but she was hoping it was unimportant enough that he wouldn’t notice it. 

Then she opened her laptop to Sage’s app that gave her access to his collected information. She barely used it, and when she did, she was careful. She didn’t want to break Sage’s rules or abuse his friendship. But she had research to do. 

She searched for “Matias Amengual” in the search bar. She wasn’t searching for anything specific here, but he had spoken of his connection to the cartel - vaguely. She confirmed what she thought she knew. He wasn’t affiliated with them anymore. So yes - a potential ally. She then searched “El Tiburon” Matias had mentioned the cartel leader had died like no man thought they would - alone and cornered. 

Marta didn’t want to see the man’s demise, but she wanted to know what happened. She found camera images and recognized the place. He had hid with Nuevo León, as Matias had said. But there was a man’s face that she saw in the images. Not a customer and not a cartel member. She know the way those faces looked. This one was different. Marta zoomed in and searched to see if she could find a name to a face. It came up soon. 

Jay Carpenter. 

Marta found his file and began to skim. Was in the Legion Premiere - the name Jared Vanders was there too as a connection. They had fought together. Then another word - Dominion. He was a Dominion. A powerful man indeed. She would need to read his file and get the story. Maybe this Jay Carpenter was a potential ally.

Youngest son of Baccarat Crystal (Facility Manager of Moscow Head Quarters & Baccarrat Mansion and Secret Founder of a Yet Unknown Atharim Faction)

Age 21

Supernatural Power: Channeler
Skill: New
Strength: 15/15

The Baccarat Heir:

Brice Lagueux is 62 years old he has just stepped away from running Baccarat Cyrstal. Zurie Brice is 54 years old, both are living comfortably in France at their small manor house near the coast.

Oliver Lagueux is 35 and running the Baccarats many companies, he is the eldest son and he travels around the world to his various companies. His wife and three children live in France near his parents.

Amele and Belisandra, 33 and 31 respectively, married wealthy men and live their lives outside of the Baccarat names, their husbands having their own highly influential families.

Vaden Langueux was an Atharim hunter, he and their Uncle Julien worked together since Vaden was young. They both died when a rogue wolfkin and his pack killed them both. The Atharim stand by their intel, but Eliot knows that it's just a cover up. The intel had not mentioned the wolfkin had a pack, it was that lack of knowledge that killed them, he believes if they had known they would have survived. Vaden was 25 when he died, that was almost four years ago.

Eliot, the youngest and a surprise child, took over the Atharim safe house in Moscow when his brother and uncle both passed simultaneously when Eliot was 17. He was still young, but he wanted to prove himself to his family. He made it his life's work to ensure the safety of the charges who called Moscow home, and to have the best intel that money could buy.

Hospitals and Safe Houses:

Eliot was born when his mother was 37 years old, the surprise of the child was not nearly as surprising as when Eliot arrived in the world. Since his birth he has been in and out of hospitals. He has probably spent more of his life in a hosiptal bed than in his own.

The doctors could not find what was wrong with him no matter the money his father threw at them, or their hospitals.

After the first 10 years of his life, they gave up trying to find answers and just managed his frail little life.

Since there was little Eliot could do he studied the Atharim books. He learned how to treat common injuries and spent what little time he could in the basement of the Baccarat Mansion in Moscow. He curated the library, he stocked the infirmary. It was part of his hobby, and when his Uncle Julien died, he took over full control of the facility. And then, the Regus moved his head quarters to Moscow to his facility to his home. It was a wonderous day, but it was also the scariest day of his life.

Despite being Atharim and knowing the lore, Eliot had a secret. At the age of 20 he had discovered he was a godling - a man who could weild a formidable power that laid waste to the world once. Before he'd found out what he could do he was wracked with the pain and sickness that came with it's useage. But since he was already sickly and took to the hospital many times in his life time, no one thought anything of the fevers and the pain he had, it was just another symptom of his undiagnosed issues.

Those early days learning to control his power had been tough. And when the Regus came to Moscow Eliot had to keep his secret safe, the last thing he wanted was the head of the Atharim to find out the Baccarat name was tainted.

Played History:

Eliot almost lost his life in the fire at the Baccarat mansion. He barely escaped with his life after letting the perpetrators go through the halls unscathed. It left him an opening to rebuild the mansion in all its glory so that it could become a technological facility with much more room for modern day needs of the Atharim.

In secret, Eliot started making plans. He has since aligned with Helena Asquith and they have arranged a marriage to solidify their union of convenience.

Nolan Trace was elected president in a special emergency election; legitimacy is disputed by several red-state governments.

Pro-CCD sentiment rising in multiple U.S. regions:

• Riots erupting in southern coastal states demanding CCD integration.
  
• Civil conflict growing between pro-CCD and pro-USA factions, with violence increasing in major population centers.
  

• U.S. dollar near worthless along the CCD border zones.
  
• CCD dollar is now used in unofficial markets, especially for food, medicine, and energy. The CCD dollars are digital currencies and shared either digitally or on cold-wallet cards.
  
• Price instability, wage freezes, and private sector shutdowns spreading in the hardest hit areas.
  

• Thousands attempting to flee into Dominance 9 via Texas.
  
• Borders are functionally closed; many are turned away or vanish in the buffer zones.
  
• CCD citizens in the US are allowed to return, and sometimes forcibly deported.
  

• Severe scarcity of medical supplies, clean water, heating fuel, and basic utilities.
  
• Major U.S. hospitals running on reduced capacity; some closing entirely in rural regions.
  

• Natural gas and oil from Texas now unavailable to U.S. markets.
  
• CCD controls pipelines and ports along annexed territories.
  
• Only Canada and Alaska still exporting fuel to the U.S., insufficient to meet winter demand.
  

• Coastal ports are seizing fuel and trade resources for regional survival.
  
• Midwest and inland states facing infrastructure collapse and rising death tolls from exposure and malnutrition.
  

Snow drifted like ash over the broken road. Wind whistled through the bones of overpasses, and gas signs flapped on skeletal poles above the pot-marked surface of Interstate 35.

On the northern side of the checkpoint, technically on American soil, families huddled in old camping tents and mismashed cardboard. There was no power except for a few diesel generators, but the gasoline was so expensive, nobody could run them more than an hour at a time. A few old wood stoves puffed smoke into the gray sky instead, their warmth shared by too many.

Outside one such tent, a man stood with a pair of battered binoculars pressed to his eyes. He was about fifty, though the cold had carved deeper lines into his face than the years alone could claim. His coat was Army surplus. The hem of a red flannel shirt poked out under the cuffs, threadbare and faded. Through the fogged lenses of his binoculars, Dominance IX shimmered like a distant promise.

On the southern side of the checkpoint, CCD soldiers in environmental armor moved in clean, practiced lines. Portable heaters glowed along the waiting lanes. A holographic video flickered to life every few minutes, casting blue-green light across the tarmac. Families gathered in neat rows, children cradling shrink-wrapped “Unity Gifts” in their arms—each box bearing the mark of the Ascendancy’s double crescent and the symbol of their new Dominance.

And above it all, projected twenty meters high on a drone-suspended emitter rig, was the face of the Ascendancy himself. Speakers made sure that those on the other side of the border would be able to overhear.

“In this sacred season,” he said, voice rich with gravitas and calm, “we honor peace not as a dream, but as an achievement. Dominance Nine is proof of what unity brings. Where once there was chaos, now there is light. Where once there was fear, now there is prosperity.”

A little girl waved at the screen. The Ascendancy didn’t wave back, but his smile widened. It had the precise warmth of a calibrated sunrise.

The man with the binoculars lowered them. His name was Danvers. Once a high school chemistry teacher in Oklahoma City. Now just another border ghost.

His fingers fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside were a few crumpled U.S. dollars. Not digital. Not encoded. Just paper. Once powerful. Now nearly useless. He stared at them a long time. Folded twenty. Two fives. A ten that was starting to tear along the crease. From behind him, a younger man muttered, “Might as well burn ’em. Worth more that way.”

Danvers looked down at the fire barrel, then back at the bills. He lifted the ten-dollar note slowly, feeling the wind tug at it like it was already dead. His fingers hovered just above the flame. But he stopped. Not out of sentiment. Just... inertia. He returned the bills to the bag and the bag to his pocket.

“They’re worth more as memory,” he said, mostly to himself. A child’s voice rose nearby. “Is he coming, Papa?” Someone else laughed bitterly. A mother pulled her child closer. Danvers didn’t answer. He just looked south again.

“To the brave people of Texas, of Mexico, and our brothers and sisters in Central America,” the Ascendancy’s voice rang out, “you stood in the face of uncertainty and chose peace. You joined not a nation, but a purpose. Tonight, your children sleep beneath warmth and order. Tomorrow, they will wake beneath the banner of the future.”

A convoy of CCD trucks passed behind the border fence, gleaming with chrome and efficiency. Danvers watched them disappear into the depths of the Dominance. New roads. New infrastructure. New money. On the American side, a woman bartered with a man for three AA batteries. Two strips of aspirin in exchange.

Danvers blinked and adjusted his binoculars again. The CCD broadcast resumed—bright, seamless, confident. The Ascendancy’s face loomed above the border like a secular messiah.

“This is not conquest,” the Ascendancy intoned. “This is communion. Together, we shape a new era unbroken by chaos, untainted by corruption. We offer continuity. Revival.”

A cheer rose from the Dominance side. Or maybe it was just audio piped through public speakers. Danvers couldn’t tell anymore. Then, a quiet hiss behind him. He turned. On the corrugated wall of a gas station, someone was spray-painting a phrase in red. Sloppy, rushed, but legible.

Elyse didn’t sleep much the night Jay had shown up at the house. She told herself she wouldn’t spiral. She wouldn’t give herself over to the darkness. So she kept Marta’s picture there. A sign for her whenever she felt like she needed a reminder to not allow herself to be overtaken. It was difficult though. Guilt was still there. The thing had probably hurt Nox. Or not.  It was hard to tell with his emotions just gone. Then Liam. The kid that had to grow up. Much like Marta had. And here she was, feeling like shit. 

Elyse had to remind herself that she was struggling with mental illness. Her reactions weren’t her fault. She had to remind herself that it was okay for her to have problems. She remembered Liv telling her that she wasn't a burden to them. Hell - they considered her a friend - family. 

Sometimes she still wasn’t sure what that meant. She tried to remind herself though. When she looked at the time, she realized it was morning. She had missed breakfast. Even so, she wasn’t feeling hungry. Elyse’s head rested against the wall. All that time wasted moping. Why was it so hard to be productive. Finally Elyse stood, got her medication and took it. It was becoming a habit now. When she changed her clothes, it wasn’t to get ready for the day. She changed inter her exercise clothes. She had enough of this moping shit. 

She pulled out tape and began to wrap her hands and wrists. There was a punching bag in the gym. And she was going to beat the shit out of it. Today was going to be a good day. She was determined to make it so. Wrapping completed, she pulled her hair into a pony tail, stretched, and then headed downstairs. 

Right now, the dojo was empty, but it may or may not be that way soon. Elyse didn’t hesitate, she just went to the bag and hit it, immediately feeling better. She it hit it again. Then again. Each time she hit it she felt the crappy emotions leaving. She began to move around the bag, getting her footwork in. She lost herself in the exercise, focused on her breathing. This felt good. It felt really good.

Jacob was itching for a hunt. Moscow was different. It didn't work like it did back home. But the database was handy once he got one young lady who was a pistol whip of a character to help him figure it all out. She was awful flirty but Jacob didn't mind. It made it all worth it in the end.

There were a lot of details in this database. And even a few unknowns, Jacob liked the unknown the potential for danger.  He reached out through the system to the hunter who catalogued the report.

It took Jacob a few minutes to get the message sent out through their encrypted system but he did figure it out without any help at all.

Quote:This cave?  What can you tell me about it?  Thinking about taking a trip out there.