[hr] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240330/fa8f3fd2fae65f45ee42c21d6cca6316.png[/img] [hr] [color=lightgray]The year is 2016; Lyon, a city in part older than the country of France itself, is the third-largest city in the country. By the year 2022, Lyon and its neighboring cities will be uninhabitable. Nuclear waste and material will have been spread throughout the entirety of southeast France, northwest Italy, and West Switzerland; this critical event will end the lives of hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of civilians, destroying vital infrastructure systems and the environment in the process. The catastrophe will cripple and subsequently end the nuclear power movement in the European Union. Legislation will be passed to place harsh restrictions on the industry and public outcry will demand the total phaseout of nuclear power. Europe will become once again heavily reliant on the dwindling supply of fossil fuels, causing the European energy crisis when all supplies of fossil fuels are exhausted in the next one hundred years. The perpetrator of this atrocity? Pierre-Henri Druveau; a multi-billionaire seeking to cash in on France's nuclear power industry. Druveau has recently become the head of France's largest provider of nuclear energy, Électricité de France, through his high connections in the French government. Druveau is a man primarily driven by money, he has refused to acknowledge and has even destroyed evidence of weaknesses found during routine inspections of several nuclear plants. After substantial bribes to high-level officials in the Autorité de sûreté nucléaire, Druveau has even begun the construction of several new nuclear plants in the southeast of France using shoddy quality materials and outdated techniques to further the speed of construction. In a Chernobyl-like fashion, these nuclear power plants will explode. A combination of the construction quality, insufficiently enforced safety regulations, and incompetent management will culminate in a critical failure in all four of the plants. Traveler, this is where you come into the timeline. Druveau is currently stationed in Lyon on a business trip to observe the construction progress of a powerplant located just beyond the city's limits. Your job is to assassinate Druveau and to assist fellow traveler teams in the sabotage, and exposure of the dangerous construction practices taken by the Druveau administration of the E.D.F. Protocol 6 will be suspended through the length of this mission, Good luck, [color=#FB6222]Traveler[/color].[/color] [hr] [center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240330/07c9d2d776c3658ca3f26fa415b2d718.png[/img][/center] [hr] [hr] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240401/67be1768871a368a9ebfd72ca5253ccb.png[/img] [hr] [h2][color=#FFBB7C]Reorded Time of Death [/color][color=red]00:59[/color][/h2] The soft thunk of the rain hitting the steel roof could not be heard over the boisterous laughter that engulfed the entirety of the almost full four-door sedan. Through his stifled laugh and slurred speech, left-back passenger managed to get out [color=#939E9A]"He- Hey Morgann tu- turn up tha radio would ya?"[/color] The driver, Morgane, took his eyes off the road to direct his attention to the radio. His eyes hurt; the harsh streetlights that lay above burned his corneas with a ferocity he had never felt before. He could barely see the radio, the darkness of the car coupled with his blurry woozy vision only allowed him to makeout basic shapes and colors. [h2][color=#FFBB7C]Reorded Time of Death [/color][color=red]00:35[/color][/h2] Morgane moved his hand off the wheel to click whatever button he thought was the radio, he wasn't able to distinguish which was which in his current state. With a click, color air started coming out the vents around the car. [color=#939E9A]"He- He said the radio Morgane"[/color] The two passengers in the back burst out into laughter at Morgane's mistake, [color=#3d85c6]"Shaddap Louis"[/color] Morgane muttered, his eyes felt so heavy. The road ahead was long, the three had chosen a bar far flung from their usual spot downtown; they had to go all out for Morgane's promotion celebration. Maybe the alcohol was finally catching up to him. The speedometer rose quickly in reading, the car jumped quickly from 60 KPH to 80 KHP in a mere few seconds. Morgane's foot was firmly rested on the accelerated, him nor his friends noticed the car's sharp increase in speed. [h2][color=#FFBB7C]Reorded Time of Death [/color][color=red]00:05[/color][/h2] Morgane's eyes began to flutter, he was slowly shutting down. He tried to stay awake, gripping the wheel tight forcing his eyes to stay open. [color=#3d85c6]"Wha- What is that sound?"[/color] A ring grew in Morgane's ear, slow at first. The sound was akin to hundreds of bells ringing at once, a slow constant noise; the noise got stronger. Morgan couldn't hear anymore, the laughter and speech of his friends progressively were overwhelmed by the ringing, he was confused but his mind began to fade. The pain, struck before the end, an indescribable feeling. The pain was tremendous but Morgane's own screaming couldn't be heard over the ringing in his ears. The feeling spread throughout his head at a rampant pace, it started in the middle of his brain radiating into the other parts. [color=#3d85c6]'What was this pain?'[/color] Morgane could barely think, his mind was failing him. Memories of his life he could no longer remember, hell, he started to even forget his name. [h2][color=#FFBB7C]Reorded Time of Death [/color][color=lightgreen]00:04[/color][/h2] A moment of clarity. The ringing ceased, the screaming stopped, and there was peace after the pain; the upload had been successful. Morgane released his foot from the acceleration quickly, pushing his foot down on the break to completely stop the vehicle. Two back passengers were shaken into a moment of soberness in the aftermath of Morgane's screaming fest. [color=#3d85c6]"It's Traveler 3528, everyone here?"[/color] Morgane asked turning to look in the back seat, the look on the people's faces said more than words could express. Their eyes were wide, staring into Morgane's with a pure look of concern. [color=#939E9A]"Are... Are you alright bud?"[/color] Louis spoke up, his mouth slightly agape, not knowing what else to say. [color=#3d85c6]"Y-Yeah I'm fine... Just fine."[/color] Morgane turned his head back to the road, [color=#3d85c6]'A misfire... On our tactician too? The mission isn't looking too bright.'[/color] [h2][color=#FFBB7C]Reorded Time of Death [/color][color=lightgreen]00:17[/color][/h2] Morgane's head pounded with a sweltering pain, migrating from the center of his forehead to the ends of his temples. [color=#3d85c6]'The briefing never included anything to do with alcohol.'[/color] Morgane could smell his own breath, the stench reeked of hard liquor, he wasn't the team's medic but he could definitely tell when he was completely intoxicated. [color=#3d85c6]"One of ya, c- call someone to get us."[/color] His head felt heavy on his shoulders; the alcohol supply was limited in the future, and many, such as Morgane, were never afforded the luxury to try. He leaned back into his seat, his head placed softly onto the headrest, [color=#3d85c6]'One...One second of shuteye won't hurt.'[/color] [hr] [color=#3d85c6]"My head is killing me..."[/color] Morgane awoke to a plain monochrome room, towering glass windows sat opposite the bed in which he lay, and sunlight flowed through panes like a calm ocean wave hitting the shoreline. Morgane, or now 3528, has never seen a ray of true sunlight in his entire life. Before being transplanted into the body of Morgane Laurent, 3528 lived under the harsh fluorescent light, and 100 times recycled air of shelter 43; now, he is experiencing the fresh air of the early 21st century and a view of the sky not blocked by an encompassing sheet of ice. Morgane had dwelled on his past long enough, [color=#3d85c6]"protocol 2..."[/color] he whispered to himself, swinging his legs off the bed. Morgane could barely bring himself to stand, the ever-present headache he was afflicted with made it hard for him to even think. His hands traced the wall of the unfamiliar landscape of the room as he staggered across to the lone computer, although the sunlight was a mesmerizing sight, his continued observance only intensified the headache he was suffering from. Morgane fell into the office chair, his eyes squinted as he clicked on the desktop computer. The startup screen flashed onto the monitor, lucky enough, the original Morgane never set a password. Morgane clicked through the login screen and opened the web browser. It was old-looking, even ancient when compared to future standards, Morgane was surprised it could even run the Director's deep web forum. He typed in the string of intangible code, which he had committed to memory after hours of trial and error, to the search bar. The browser tab completely covered the monitor after Morgane hit enter, hundreds of lines of code in symbols unrecognizable to most floated across the screen. Slowly, sections of these strings departed from their larger whole, forming in the center a message, [color=#FB6222]"Welcome, Traveler 3528. Arrive at the coordinates 45.715103, 4.830390 to receive your first mission."[/color]