Logan held his hand over his eyes at the sudden, surprising appearance of light, frowning slightly as something cool and black and metal touched his face. A gun – a rifle? – that looked more real than anything he'd ever seen before. He gulped involuntarily, stroking the trigger and his free hand instantly going near his belt. Another one there.

Since when had he had a belt? Since when had he been [i]armed and armoured[/i]? He didn't even think about looking for the bag.

“What does 'survive' even mean? I don't–” Logan stopped suddenly, taking a breath. He stared at the man who seemed far more informed than anyone else. “I'm Logan. Logan [i]Vallance[/i]. How did we get here?” The question was posed to everyone, but there was another interesting question that nagged the back of his mind. What was with the stress on the surname?

At least it sounded cool.