[table] [row] [sup][h3][b][color=2e2c2c] ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ [right]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/right][/color] [/b][/h3][/sup] [/row][row] [cell][color=2e2c2c]______________________________________[/color] [right][img]https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Ftse4.mm.bing.net%2Fth%3Fid%3DOIP.r79K6VYw-x64-oFSxE4a9QAAAA%26pid%3DApi&f=1[/img][/right][/cell][cell] [indent][color=red][h2][b]Carver[/b][/h2][/color][/indent] [color=red][sup] [b]_____________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/sup][/color] [color=red][sup][b]Tenebrae City Maximum Security Prison[/b][/sup] [sup][b]Cell Block 27-S[/b][/sup] [sup][/sup] [/color] [color=red][sup][b]______________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/sup][/color][/cell] [/row] [/table] [center][color=red][h2][b]Another Day in the Hole[/b][/h2][/color] [color=red][sup][b]______________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/sup][/color][/center] Tenebrae Maximum Security Prison, 27 floors beneath ground level, stuck behind the walls of a remotely controlled icebox for 20 years. It was about as pleasant as it sounded. Nathan "Carver" Ridge. Former member of the Gray Dragons, diagnosed pyromaniac, felon. Charges include, but are not limited to: Multiple accounts of murder, arson, unlawful possesion of prohibited chemical substances, and unlawful possesion of firearms. Normally, a man such as this would be sent to death row, but someone decided that his capture was an oppurtunity. A chance to explore scientific possibilities for containing other metas of his caliber. Their new captive would make for a perfect lab rat, they said, it's not everyday you capture an Alpha-class meta, after all. And so, they threw him in a hole, never to see the light of day again, in a liquid-cooled room. A marvel of moder day prison engineering. Three layers of heat resistant glass diffused by coolant made sure he could never push the room past the average temperature of a cool summer day. Carver made no attempt after one year to threaten the security of the prison. He was cited for "good behavior" as most prisons do, except in the case of someone like him, "good behavior" only meant the guards were allowed to exchange words with him after 19 years. Nothing more, nothing less. Not that Carver truly cared about such a thing. Gone were the days when others had any sway over his existence in a way that amounted to anything. The guards who were on the payroll to guard him and only him were not his friends, or his enemies. They only kept their eyes on him in rotation throughout the day. Visitation was out of the question, it was unlikely his mother and sister were informed of his location when he was incarcerated. Once a week, only in the interest of pleasing the prison's non-humanist stockholders, Carver was permitted time in the yard above ground, same as the average prisoner. He was followed everywhere he went by no less than three specially equipped guards at a given time, and without his knowing, a sniper rifle loaded with tranquilizing munitions was aimed at him from a location he was not aware of, any time he stepped more than 3 feet past the door to his cell. In the past two decades, these measures only proved necessary once, in a fit of rage even Carver himself strains to remember. He hadn't seen natural light for another 2 years, as a result of that incident. There was no kind way to say it: He was kept alive for the sake of it. They didn't have to, after all, the city never had much fuss to make over executing metas who stepped out of line. He always told himself that there was probably some angry god out there who refused to let him die his own way, or karma finally caught up with him. It didn't matter to him, one way or another. His life ended 20 years ago, when he and Grayson escaped a burning building with their lives, when Grayson escaped with his life and his [i]freedom.[/i] The outside world had no need for him. His old friend had no need for him. He lacked a purpose in what was left of his life, all he could really do was wake up, stare at the walls, think about the old days, exercise, and go to sleep. That was exactly what he did, every day, and was exactly what he would continue to do until the next time he left the cell was in a body bag. He was just an animal these days. At least he had...Well, nothing. He had nothing. What would the old man say to that, he wondered. Carver had woken up that day knowing exactly what would happen: He'd hit the floor, do a hundred push-ups, then a hundred sit-ups. Then he'd stare at the ceiling for five minutes, then he'd do nothing for the rest of the day. He knew what he'd do, until he very well didn't. His usual morning guard stepped away, and he knew the next guy would take a few minutes to get here. Three minutes and fourty-seven seconds, he figured. Except it wasn't one of his personal guards, it wasn't even a guard at all. It was like death herself had come and paid him a visit. A torn cloak, a skull mask. Carver only caught a glimpse of it through the window of his cell, but it was the most vivid thing he had seen in years. He almost wrote it off until someone spoke to him. That wasn't unusual, the guards usually spoke to him to give him a hard time and keep him feeling low. But this...It reminded him of how life felt for a moment. [i]"How long you wanna stay in there, taking the fragile peace Rhea enjoys for granted?"[/i] [i]Rhea.[/i] His sister. The mention of that name was like a slap to the face, like cold water. His head snapped forward in confusion. He said nothing for an eternity. Eventually he gave a response, a slightly gravely voice, slow and only somewhat hollow, without a hint of a grow or any aggression. [color=red]"How do you know that name?"[/color] She threw a phone through the wall. Was she a meta? [i] "Check the video on that thing. See what your friends have been up to after all this time."[/i] He caught it in the air instinctually, and his heart damn near exploded when he saw the video. Grayson surrounded by guns pointed his direction, a shield of water in front of him, and a blonde girl with glowing hands. Rainsinger, and Sunrider. A look of shock and dismay spread across Carver's face. He was still around. After all this time, after what they went through, he was [i]here.[/i] And Sunrider, she was still here too. It was like watching life pass him by, was everything either of them planned for themselves just given up on? Carver barely processed what he was seeing before the voice behind the door talked to him again. [i]"That device she grabbed is just one of the pieces that will mark the end of Tenebrae as we know it. Sure, she destroyed it. But these guys have a backup plan. Our spy network picked up on black boxes around the city set to go off as soon as tomorrow, turning the entire city into a heart generator, siphoning bioenergy to power their doomsday device. Normal humans will last a few days at most, metas, maybe a few weeks." "Your family is up there, blissfully unaware, but you're not going to let them get hurt. And we know how to help you." "We need to get into their facility. You're the only one who can break-in, and if you're successful, we'll give you the means to keep your family safe." [/i] His family? The end of Tenebrae? This was all too much for him, almost. Carver sat in silence for what felt like hours, did one of those two send someone for him? Did Fadeaway work her magic? A million questions swirled through his mind, but there remained a certainty in all this he allowed for himself: If those two were involved, this had to be happening for a reason. But still, this was a surprise to say the least. Rhea was at risk, it seemed. That used to be the one thing that let him wake up in the morning. Carver gathered his thoughts for a moment, after everything was dropped on him like a brick. [color=red]"Who...the hell [i]are you?"[/i][/color]