[i]It is so cold… I’ve never felt so cold before…[/i]

These are your thoughts as you awaken amidst destruction…

The very first thing to be noticed about this place is the utter, bitter, biting cold.

The air is thin and unforgiving. Just when you think you have taken a full gulp of air a sharp gale seems to tear it back out of your lungs. It is light, but the sun is obscured by an overcast sky. The white landscape makes the brightness seem to come from everywhere and nowhere. It is disorienting and robs the senses of their ability to determine time and place. It is blinding. There is snow in the air, light gusting flurries, it is difficult to tell if it is falling from the sky or being blown about the mountain by the wind. 

The snow and ice dresses the mountain. It clings to her sheer cliffs and jagged edges. It buries her secrets.

Except for today. 

There is a scar on the mountain. Where the foundations of an old castle juts up through the ice and snow. Its turrets of black stone are like withered fingers reaching to the blank white sky. They ask for forgiveness, and receive none. 

Here, today, the snow is soaked in blood and melted by fire. 

Something has happened here, something strange and terrible. 

There are bodies everywhere. Their blood soaks into the snow. Some, are frozen stiff, their eyes shut forever by frost. Others found the opposite fate and perished in the fire. There are scorch marks everywhere, new destruction reaped upon the old ruins. There are places the fire still burns with unnatural ferocity. The snow around these places and charred the bones in its path. 

The castle barely stands along a cliff. There are two turrets remaining of the original six, they stretch out from the center of the castle. The roof of the once-great hall has been blown away, revealing the most disturbing scene of all. There is an altar of stone with a circle of white chalk and strange symbols around it. There are dead men in black cloaks, all of them burned to a crisp. On the altar there is a body. She stares into the air, her mouth open in amazement, her chest opened by a knife and pulled apart. 

She is one of many dead at the castle on the snowy mountain.

Yet, many are also alive.

These begin to awaken now. A mad scientist, a wandering monk, a muse, an explorer, a lost prince, among others. These begin to stir and waken. 

They are all very far from home.

[i]Meanwhile…[/i]

“And that is why Russia is my favorite!” Dr. Twain, leader of MERCY, was characteristically jovial as they observed the locals.
They were in the city of Vladivostok, Russia. 

They were conducting an investigation that had originally belonged to another team. That team had disappeared. Vladivostok was the last place that team MOON had reported to their mother organization, TRIDENT.

That was three months ago. TRIDENT sent MERCY to Vladivostok to pick up the trail and find the missing team.

The team was sitting at a small table in a small coffee house. Siva-Cup Coffee Co. to be precise. A global coffee chain of impressive success. 

Zesiro arrived with everyone's ‘usual’ coffee order on a tray. He placed the tray on the table and took a seat next to his brother. Side by side the resemblance was uncanny. They had the same brow and chin. Though, Zesiro looked younger and thinner, the technologist was pale and gaunt, usually frowning while Twain had a healthy tan and broad shoulders and a crooked grin. They had a similar accent. Twain's voice was deeper, a man's voice. Zesiro’s was scratchy, his vocal chords still teetering on the tail end of puberty.

Twain's usual was a classic cappuccino. Sometimes, like today, he would add a little mocha.

Zesiro got a red-eye-chai. The biggest cup they had with as many extra espresso shots as possible.

Icarus never told Zesiro what he wanted. So, Zesiro always ordered him something different. Today it was a banana-mint-hazelnut-chocolate-chip-frappe. Icarus never complained.

Twain briefed the team.

“This city was the last place we knew MOON was located.” He spread out four wallet-sized photos onto the table. Their missing comrades. “We don’t know the details of their investigation other than that, except who they were looking for…” He placed a fifth picture onto the table in the center. 

He then leaned back in his chair crossing his arms. He wanted to give the team time to memorize the pictures, then ask questions. He wanted to test the new girl. She was smart, but this was really her first time in action. Real action anyway. A missing agent of TRIDENT was no small matter. They had four missing agents and a dead trail.