[i] Even when all is lost to you in your heart and in your mind, your true essence of being lies within your immortal soul…[/I]

Those words reverberated throughout Nates skull as he wrestled with sleep. Amidst his battle he is brought back to when he was first recruited by the Hounds. The dream flashed from the horrific morning after his family's murder. He starts to render the feelings he had from that time. Most of the days he was numb, and when the numbness receded he was left with fear, rage, and more questions than answers. He knew he didn't [I]couldn't[/I] have done those horrible things, yet he knew he was in some way involved or responsible.

It was then he first became a believer. Sure, everyone knew about the Underground, some spooky story you tell your kids before bed. Except the Boogeyman is very.....very real. Nate knew this all to well.

He awoke from his restless sleep with a violent, jerking motion that seemed almost marionette-like. The sound of his cell phone going off never really was one he enjoyed. He grunted as he fumbled with his pants on the floor, the text message read:

[i]A mandatory meeting will be held in conference room 345B of the East Wing at precisely 9:30 A.M. Yes, I am aware of the short notice. This is not by my account. All members of the Hounds are assigned to report. When you arrive, take your seat. I will be waiting to discuss the current matters. All policies apply.[/I]

The tattoos in his back and shoulders began to give the slightest flicker of a glow when suddenly a hand grabbed for Nates back.

"Who was that?" A tiny yet soothing voice asked him, although Nate couldn't remember how he got back to his apartment last night, or where his underwear was, at least he knew her name.
"Tina, you're awake, I'm sorry if my phone woke you. It's work, I have a meeting I need to be at in..."

His eyes catch a glimpse of the clock to see its 9:14 "Shit", he thought "now I really have to haul ass"

"I gotta run babe thanks for everything!" Nate says as he scrambles out the door carrying his pants and shoes, wearing nothing but a plain black v-neck and a pair of neon green boxer shorts. He ran down the hall and caught the elevator going down. As he finished getting dressed he desperately tried not to embarrass the 70-something year old woman in the elevator with him. Getting off the elevator he stopped and finished lacing up his Chuck Taylor Classics, in doing so spied a bicycle by the side of the apartment building. The Tower was still a ways and he wouldn't make it in time on foot...

----

After "borrowing" the bike he made it with time to grab a coffee from the breakfast cart. For some uptight branch under the "Royal Umbrella" (as he called it) the coffee want nearly as terrible in other parts of the world, although crisp Autumn mornings like this always made him miss Wisconsin. When he arrived on the third floor he made his way to room 345B. He was in the east end, finally, as he already went to the wrong wing not a few moments earlier. He walked into the room giving a smile to Dragon and a nod to Striker, feet up relaxing in his chair. And took his usual seat at the table. Disciple sat at the head of the table, he greeted her with the usual "ma'am", nodded his head and took his seat.

"I wonder what kind of mischief they have in store for us [i]this[/i] time" he thought as he awaited the start of the meeting.