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"How bad is it?"

There was an unusually long pause, long enough that it made Farrah glance up from her phone, eyes studying the driver's solemn facial expression via the rearview mirror. "Bad." He finally said glancing at her, "Really bad."

That was the extent of their conversation for the rest of the nearly three-hour drive from the airport. Farrah didn't mind the quiet, though, keeping herself busy enough scrolling through all the news articles that were dropping by the minute. Everyone was talking about the disaster. Every major news channel, online news outlets, bloggers - shit - even influencers on social media took to the cameras. She scrolled past reports about Deltahuman terrorists, speculations that Reaper or some other organization could be behind it. Up until now, nothing was confirmed, nothing except that LA was gone and whatever was left was in ruins. Reports of deaths and people missing were coming in by the hundreds. Some scientists speculated that due to the size of the city-shattering-earthquake, it had left what once was LA and the surrounding areas in an unstable state, whatever that meant. 

Having seen enough, Farrah closed her phone and dropped it on her lap, her attention shifting to the folder next to her. A crest with a raven was prominently featured in the front, the emblem for Task Force RAVEN. She'd heard of them, who hadn't? Some of the members went down in history as heroes in and out of FAMA's circles, but she never expected to receive a call to join the unit. They must have been vetting her for some time, maybe even years, because not even forty minutes had passed after the destruction of LA when her phone rang - no other than Maximilian Cornell himself.

The SUV exited off the freeway and almost immediately makeshift shelters for the victims started crowding either side of the road. There were hundreds of people, maybe even thousands. Some first responders, crisis volunteers, but the bulk of it was just regular civilians - people that in minutes had lost everything from homes to family members. It was a sad affair to witness.

"We're almost at the base." The driver said breaking the two and a half-hour long silence after they had passed what seemed like miles of victim shelters. "They'll be waiting for you at the command tent." After passing the gates, the SUV dropped Farrah off. She gathered her small duffle bag packed with the essentials, folder, and phone before making her way up to the command tent. It was easy enough to spot and mostly a straight forward walk, but more than once she had to stop to allow some FAMA issued vehicle or a group of agents to pass.

"Agent Farrah Govea, reporting in." She said once inside, dropping her bag by her side and taking a brief moment to look around at the other present. She recognized Maximilian from his photo the few times RAVEN has been in the papers or news channels, as well as some of the older members of the unit but some she saw for the first time.