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[center][h1][color=6ecff6][b][u]Sanzhar Kravchenko[/u][/b][/color][/h1][/center]
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[indent]After a rather fruitful talk with Devan in the café, Sanzhar would continue on towards... hmmm...

[color=6ecff6]"Where can I go..."[/color] Sanzhar pondered as he slowly prodded along, not knowing where to go. He was still at a lose on what to do, as the words he needed to write eluded him. 

The soldiers were gathering up now. Sanzhar decided to take a backdoor, getting away from the major footpaths as he headed towards the FEMA camp. He heard that there was quite a bit of stuff going on in there, so he thought maybe, just maybe, he can run a story there. And perhaps get a raise too.[/indent]

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[center][h1][b][u]Karagoz Dimirci[/u][/b][/h1][/center]
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[indent]Karagoz Dimirci walked along the length of one of the suburban areas south of the city of San Francisco, his face hidden by a cap and a black cloth face mask. Over one of his eyes was a grey eyepatch, given to him a few years ago after he came back from the sandy battlefields of Afghanistan. He had lost sight in his left eye, and used the eyepatch to keep the now useless ocular organ away from the sight of others. Besides, he looked particularly foreign, despite growing up in this city and country, and would be better off if he laid low. After everything that happened, many people weren't keen on people that looked like him.

But he wasn't going to lay low. Not now. This country had just passed a law. A law restricting people like him from certain professions, and now, he can't walk without getting suspicious eyes all over him. He fought for this nation, bled in foreign battlefields because of the flag he served was attacked, and now...

"Sir." A National Guardsman looked over him with scrutinous eyes. "Papers please."

Sullenly, Karagoz handed him his identity papers. The Guardsman read them for a few seconds, and looked back at him. "We need you to submit to testing, sir."

"Is this a joke?" Karagoz snarled. "I fought for this country, and you people have the nerve to force me into testing-"

"Sir, it's the law."

Karagoz scoffed. "Well it's a stupid law, just like you!" 

"Sir, I will have to-"

But it was done. Karagoz tore off his facemask and vomited a whole Glas of white colored napalm right at the man, causing him to scream in agony. The attention of his comrades was turned towards the rapidly rising column of flame that arose out of their comrade, whose exposed face and arms were now as crispy as roast meat. Seeing that their newest arrival was a hostile Altered, they turned to open fire... only to be licked upon by rapidly spinning tongues of white flame, which burned very, very hot. Within seconds, Karahoz had burned the entire checkpoint as nearby civilians screamed and ran; others took videos that will be trending soon enough. But for now, Karagoz Dimirci, who had pulled out a gas mask from his bag and put it on his face by the time the footage began to roll, will be known as the Silver Flame, a friend of the Reaper who called upon other Altered humans to rise up...[/indent]