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In the emergency situational response bunker buried beneath the Lost Haven STRIKE outpost known as “The Mill,” Director Alexander Anderson sat at the round conference table, which some STRIKE administrators had joked resembled the famous Roundtable of Arthurian legend. 

Seated to Anderson’s left was Nathan Sterling, an analyst who specialized in studying criminal behavior and predicting future behaviors based on past tendencies. He was exceedingly good at his job, having correctly predicted the actions of hundreds of perpetrators over the years. Everything from arsonists to serial killers, many of whom had been incorrectly labeled us completely random and unpredictable had been brought to justice because of his uncanny eye for detail. To date, the only criminal that Sterling had been unable to pin down was the monstrous killer known as Nightmare. 

Though Sterling had correctly predicted the killer’s movements in the past, Nightmare remained elusive. Often being just one step ahead of Sterling’s predictions. On the occasions that Sterling’s predictions matched up with the killer’s movements, Nightmare simply slaughtered those who went after him, leaving a trail of blood and body parts all over the globe. 

Marcus Ryder sat on Anderson’s right. The two men went back nearly twenty years, serving in the same black ops unit in their active duty days. Over the years, the two men had become the best of friends. Ryder was one of the few men that Anderson trusted explicitly, and often sent him on missions that were especially sensitive. 

The three men had been seated at the table for hours, discussing the current crisis, and their apparent inability to put an end to it, at length. Most disturbing to Anderson, was the most recent attack, in which the now infamous killer had slaughtered an entire warehouse full of ravers, as well as an elite STRIKE tactical response unit, and quite possibly the hero known as Icon himself. 

“Sterling, can you give us any insights into what his next move might be?” Anderson finally asked after taking a sip of his coffee, which by this point had gone stale. He cringed at the taste of the less than fresh drink and waited for an answer.

“In a word, no. Over the years, Nightmare has been consistent with his actions. He has historically followed a pre-described path of action. But this time, he’s changing things up a bit. He’s only loosely following his historical patterns.” Sterling explained.

“Which means what, exactly?” Ryder asked, seemingly irritated by the analyst.
“It means he hasn’t got a goddamned clue.” Anderson said curtly. “Marcus, have we been able to get any further intel on what happened at the rave, and where Icon has gone off to?”

“Not as of yet. We do know that Icon was severely injured when he engaged Nightmare and whoever his partner was. We collected blood samples from the scene and our people are looking at them, but we don’t know what happened to Icon, or if he’s even still alive.” Ryder reported.

“We do know that he left the scene though. So we could assume that he is.” Anderson said, almost questioning.

“I don’t know Alex, there was a lot of blood, he was hurt badly. If he were still alive, you might assume that he’d have been seen by now.” Ryder said matter of factly.

“Like you said, he was injured badly. He may need some time to recover.” Anderson said, pausing momentarily. “But we have to move forward under the assumption that he won’t be here to help us with this problem.” He finished.

“Right.” Ryder agreed.

“I’ve already sent word to Arthur to report to Lost Haven to take point in this operation. He hit a little snag on his way, but he’s here now.” Anderson explained.

“Do you think he’ll be able to end this? Icon wasn’t a match, and we’re not even sure what the capabilities of the Daedalos Mk. 5 armor are.” Sterling cut in.

“No better time like the present to find out.” Anderson said as he got up from the table, abruptly ending the meeting before Sterling could object.

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Director Alexander Anderson made his way down the hallway of “The Mill.” As he made his way towards the facility’s hangar bay, where vehicles and equipment was often stored while it was being repaired, or otherwise deployed, STRIKE agents acknowledged his presence with a buzz of concern and excitement. Though he was well known within the agency, it was a rare occurrence that he was out and about among the rank and file. 

His presence meant that something big was going on, and many of them assumed that it had something to do with the Nightmare Crisis, as it had been come to be called. However, they had no way to know that for certain. An agency as big as STRIKE often had hundreds of operations going on simultaneously, and his arrival here could be due to any one of them.

Anderson came to a large door, which resembled a safe door more than anything else. He swiped his security access card, the lights around the terminal turned green as the door began to slide open. As he entered the hangar, he saw a number of advanced land and air vehicles, some still in the development stage, all waiting for their opportunity to be tested in the field. As he moved among the many vehicles, he felt a sense of pride at what the organization had been able to accomplish on a technological level, and looked forward to seeing the vehicles in action one day soon. 

As he walked through the labyrinth of technological wonders, he was able to hear some commotion within the hangar, perhaps a hundred yards from his current position. As he heard the conversation that was taking place, he knew that he had found who he was looking for, an assumption that was confirmed when he made his way around one of STRIKE’s newest vehicles, a pilot-less drone that had been developed for a wide range of operations. As he moved past the drone, he saw a man in a high tech suit of armor, as well as several techs that were assisting him with repairs.

Anderson made his way over to the man, and speaking cheerfully as possible, greeted the man.

“Rough day, Mr. Arthur?” Anderson asked nonchalantly. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Director Alexander Anderson, and I think it’s time we had a chat.”