[b][u]9:37 A.M.
Unknown Cave[/b][/u]

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It was a haphazard mess of scrap metal and frames, of monitors in the dark, and the hum of hydroelectric generators paired with the never-ending stream of water that echoed inside the cave. One would almost compare it to an adult treehouse that was forced to be made underground if not for information that flicked on the screens of the multiple computers. It flashed information of various federal organizations such as the FBI and it's agents as equally as several crime lords spread throughout Detroit. Spread across the desk were notes, papers, photos, and maps along with one or two cans of soda, pencils and pens scattered at various distances from the main keyboard.

Suddenly, as if something had created a vacuum in the air, a woman appeared within the blink of an eye. Her raven black hair was free this night as she adjusted her fingerless gloves and the leather pouched belt at her waist, holding up black tights. Her torso adorned with a navy skin-tight shirt and a blue jean-jacket making her look akin to some sort of cross between super hero and steampunk fantasy warrior - the short sword strapped to her back did nothing to stop this imagery. Her blue eyes scanned and adjusted to the oddly lit cave before walking over causally to a computer chair and sliding into it's embrace. With a flick of her wrist and press of a finger, the nearby T.V. popped to life, already adjusted to the news.

It just so happened that she had arrived just in time to see the theatrical entrance of the masked man who held the all too familiar device within his grasp. Torn between a smirk and a scowl, the woman known as Eidyia finally settled on narrowing her eyes in thoughtful attendance. [i]"Hello... Operatives. I have something for you."[/i] Malice dripped from his tongue. [i]"This is being broadcast on all channels US-wide, I want the whole world to witness their greatest, most stupid fear. You, my dear Operatives. They hate you, fear you, spit upon the ground you walk!"[/i]

He made a dramatic flourish with his hand. [i]"I don't. In fact, we're friends already, and I'll tell you why. This device I have, I'm sure you're familiar with its original. I believe they called it the Kill Switch Protocol."[/i] The man dared to press a button and all the 'Librarian' could do was sigh. Either one of two things happened - he hit the switch for someone else and they instantly died or he tried to off her... to which he'd be disappointed. Of course, he could've hit the switch to Hannibal, but if this man knew [b]anything[/b] about the Operatives, him choosing Hannibal would've been an effort at bluffing them all out into the square. Honestly, he'd probably succeed.

[i]"You see, your life is in my hands. A man just died to be an example for all of you. Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to be in New York tomorrow, Manhattan square. I'll have people who will contact you when the time is right. You could consider this a... Forced business proposal, almost. You could be great, my dear. Enough of this hiding in fear, you're better then the cage society confines you in."[/i]

He put a finger on his masked chin, appearing thoughtful. But he shook his head. [i]"Mmm, nah. We'll talk more later. And, for your sake, I do hope you consider."[/i] He seemed to smile behind the thinly veiled threat. The screen abruptly blacked out, then resumed normal programs, but she wasted no time in simply pressing the power button on the remote before leaning back in her chair.

This was something she was torn between, in more ways than one. She had began a life that most of the others would've never even considered and sometimes Eidyia even wondered what the point of that was - trying to fight all the evil in the world. Besides the questions of whether it was possible, worth the effort, and so on, she now faced the dilemma of several factors. She wanted to play guardian to this new potential threat, feeling a sympathy for those still under the weight of that tiny red button and yet would it be more advantageous to let the arrogant son of bitch think she was dead and strike at her own time? Of course, were they worth saving? They all had their demons, there was no doubt about that - every single of them had killed people, stolen, lied, and manipulated according to Obsidian. Many, she dared say, now enjoyed that sort of life ...

Letting out a small huff in mild defeat, she propped her feet onto the desk and folded her arms, not daring to move. No, her presence in the square, whether she wanted to avoid the conflict all together or play the little hero in the corner, was better served if the acting fool thought she was dead. Let him hit the button and then she'd take a few to figure if she'd bother or not. She shifted over a bit and grabbed a vial of dulled red liquid and looked inside. A left over sample of the nano-bots that threatened to kill them all, once.