[center][h2][color=fdc68a]Gregory Hamilton[/color][/h2][i][h3]Host Body: Jedrick[/h3][/i][/center]

Gregory didn't have access to lowest levels of the Q.U.I.P. facility. If he did, maybe things wouldn't have went wrong. A young genius, by anyone's standards, he should have been a part of the delicate research they were doing. Unfortunately for him and [i]everyone[/i] in the surrounding two block radius, he wasn't. Politics had gotten in the way. He wasn't there when they were building the machine. If he was, it would have been built right... probably. And he sure wasn't there on this day, the day they decided to turn it on. If he was, he would have told them not to. It wasn't ready. 

A blinding flash of light was the last thing he remembered. 

When he came to, he was far from New York City. At least, he hoped he wasn't in New York City. Laying on his back, he watched the world around him. He could hear explosions and gunfire. Smoke rose over the tops of run down buildings, and dark clouds loomed overhead, blocking out a desperate sun. In his mouth, he could taste blood. 

[b]"He's alive!"[/b] a voice called out. A moment later, a man fell to his knees beside Gregory. The man was dressed in form fitting, top-grade military armor, a large gun swung over his back. He snapped his fingers in front of Gregory's face. [b]"Jed! Jedrick! Can you hear me?"[/b]

[b]"Jedrick?"[/b] Gregory mumbled, immediately coughing up blood. As his head jerked, he caught glimpses of his own body armor below. It was much like the other man's armor, but there was a large hole in the chest plate. Through this hole was bare skin and fresh blood. 

[b]"Oh shit!"[/b] A third voice said, just before another soldier took a knee to Gregory's left, opposite of the first. [b]"How is he alive? He was hit by an armor piercer!"[/b]

[b]"I don't know,"[/b] said the first soldier. [b]"but we need to get him back to base. You carry his gear, I'll carry him."[/b]

What happened next was a blur. He was thrown over the first soldier's shoulders, with almost no effort, fireman style. Then, they ran, the second soldier ran just behind laying cover fire as they raced from building to building. Gregory could hardly believe what was happening. [i]This has to be a dream.[/i] he told to himself repeatedly.