[center][b][u]PCMC HQ North Arctic - Intel Block G14[/u][/b][/center]

Large monitoring screens glared at the two from the stifling grey room, displaying slowly scrolling pictures of varied horror. A dilapidated mansion, lost in time and surrounded by the cold embrace of snow. The empty rooms within, forlorn and empty. Agents with scanning equipment, paired with a side screen of the results of such scans. The soft glow of the monitors offered the only light in the sterile room of metal chairs, filing cabinets, a single computer, and a wooden table. The table was strewn with documents and dossiers, all gibberish nonsense and technical jargon that only trained scientific professionals could make heads or tails of. There were none of the comforting false windows with artificial light in this room. Nothing but the warm glow of computer screens. The subtle beeping of a door code and card swipe announced the arrival of a third party, although the unhinging of the door was almost deafening to the dastardly silent room. In walked a man, at least that was what it appeared to be in the low lighting, but his features became subtly more apparent as he strode toward the edge of the table, wingtips clacking on the tiled floor. A vaguely Asian man of indiscernible age stood before them, a gangly man of above average height with hair shined with pomade and slicked back on his scalp. He was done up in a fine Italian suit, as grey as the room around him, just as his collared shirt beneath that was. Only two articles popped out from his dark motif: a blood red tie, and an identifying badge. It read "Chin, Ai Fang, Section Head, Intelligence Department."

"Good afternoon, agents," he greeted, resting both hands on the table. His tone was less friendly and more expectant. A tone of business. "Adams, it is nice to see you again," he addressed the MI6 prior alumni with a nod. Head Chin had had the pleasure of working with Agent Adams before on a few different occasions, one of which he had made a critical insight into the study of Purgatory and the laws that governed it. Since then he asked for his assistance whenever possible, but the man was such an asset that he could rarely be found for work with the Intel Department, especially his own. No doubt he would do good work.
"Bowen, it is... an interesting outfit you have chosen to wear here today," the Asian man stated, his voice raising an octave quizzically. He had only had Agent Bowen under his charge once before. A routine mission on tracking the positions of hidden spacecraft in northern Russia with the assistance of PCMC HQ East Europe. She had not stood out in anyway, but had still performed admirably in her duties. He caught himself ogling and cleared his throat to bring himself back to the task at hand.
"So, as you both are aware, we have had an incident in Husavik, Iceland," began Head Chin, pronouncing [i]Husavik[/i] perfectly despite his own slight accent, "And I'm sure that is all the two of you know. If you would please take a glance at the documents before you as I speak." The suited man gestured to the table before himself, stood up off the table and began to pace about the room.
"An urban legend, one of the Doppleganger, stems from many sources, but remains the same in each. I am sure you know the legend, but I love the sound of my own voice and the telling of stories, so I will elaborate." Head Chin flashed them a tight smile before continuing to pace again. "A Doppleganger is a copy of a person, said to look just like them, act just like them. to [b]be[/b] just like them. It is said that if a man were to see his Doppleganger, he would be marked for death the very next day. We have encountered many such kinds of doubles in our field, as you both are aware. Skinwalkers. Shapeshifters. Polymorphs. Devilish entities. We have found another [i]truly[/i] worthy of the title, 'Doppleganger'." Head Chin halted his pacing to lean on the table once more.

"Murders are being committed across a small area of Iceland. Small to start with, we have only encountered two in this manner since this time last year. The peculiar notion of these murders is that the people murdered are discovered not to be dead. As you are both aware that is a nebulous concept in our field, and I shall explain." The Asian man turned to one of the monitors, producing a remote from his pocket. With a light press of his thumb, he flicked through a small album of photos showing a smiling man and his family.
"This man is Arnar Sigrioursson. As you can see, he is very healthy, happy, and fortunate to have a beautiful wife and happy baby girl." As Head Chin flipped through a handful of other, normal photos, another photo appeared to contrast. This one was one of Arnar lying in a pool of blood, throat slit, face and chest riddled with deep gashes.
"This is his body." With another changing of the slides came more normal family photos, with a non-disputably older child. Arnar appeared to be fine. "And these photos were taken after the discovery of his course. This is the same man in every way. The same blood type, fingerprints, even memories." More clicking led back to the original pictures up on the screen of the old mansion. Head Chin faced his audience with his hands clasped behind his back.
"The Dopplegangers are normal human beings in every way, identical to the real thing. They are physically parallel to normal humans and interviews show no psychopathic tendencies. However. We have discovered that these Dopplegangers have a subconscious desire and motivation to seek out the original who they are a copy of, violently murder them, and assume their lives as if they had lived them in their entirety, even gaining memories in which they could have never had of the original." Chin turned his back again to flick through more slides. "We have traced the appearance of the Dopplegangers to this house in Husavik, and to this-" one more picture appeared, "-mirror." Stark on the screen was a full length silver mirror, around seven feet tall. It was surrounded by an ornate wooden frame with a curved and curled design. Although perfect in every aspect, the reflection of the multiple angles the photos were taken as they appeared upon the screen were warped, as if the mirror were one of the carnival attractions. It held a sense of foreboding, even through its pictures.

"The Dopplegangers appear through this recently discovered mirror, stepping through unannounced. Since our investigative team has arrived, they have had three come through the other side. One is in custody. The other two were of our agents on site, and were shot as soon as their faces emerged." Head Chin let out a sigh through his nose and turned back to face the two. His face was grave.
"Your mission is not an easy one, agents. Although we have a team on-site to monitor this mirror twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week, we have no one available to perform... field work, with the mirror. You see, agents, the upon inspection, this portal works in two ways. One of our agents, Agent Lowell, made an attempt to step through the mirror upon discovery. We lost communications with him within half a minute. He is still somewhere inside the mirror." Head Chin licked his lips, his tell when he was uncomfortable. "And I ask you to succeed where Agent Lowell had failed. I [i]will[/i] stress, agents, that this mission is entirely voluntary. If you refuse, we have other available agents, other available methods of testing. But I am asking you both because I am confident that you two will be able to survive, with a detailed report, and possibly with an explanation of Lowell's disappearance, if not the man himself. If you wish, you may walk out the door and pretend that I did not speak to you today. But I have faith that you will succeed, faith in your skills. Please, read over the dossiers once more and think of an answer." Head Chin turned to the monitors for one last time and switched them off. The room was bathed in darkness for a moment or two, but the sound of wingtips on tile were heard until the overhead lights beamed on, flooding the room in their harsh shining luminescence. Head Chin calmly walked to the end of the table where he had stood and pulled out a chair. He folded his hands over the wooden tabletop and hunched his shoulders as he stared past Sean and Jade.