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The Avalon guards approach the shuttle door when it arrive onboard The Redeemer, opening it to shock. The guards stun Gaz and tackle him, restraining him and the others further. The troopers drag him and the group to the prison section of The Redeemer where Celeste was, awaiting her release...

Dr. Erik Nielsen, Captain Roman Kaminski and his second Pieter Altena boarded The Nightengale, looking around and seeing it dilapidated, abandonded and with bodies everywhere. "What... happened here?" Dr. Nielsen asked. "Avalon. Standard 'accident'." Roman replied, gesturing fir his scavengers to search the ship. He started walking towards the bridge, making sure to check every room he could for survivors. "But why? The Nightengale was Avalon Corp's best commerical ship..." Pieter shrugged, "Who knows. Angered Thorne, late payments, many reasons." As they reached the bridge, Roman stood in the doorway, horrified by the sight...

Grand Admiral Thomas Romaine sat ar his desk, tapping his finger, pondering the report Celeste had given him. He knew Captain Wilford wasn't an honest man - a liar, a cheater and a murderer. He knee it might not make much difference but he sent the report directly to Peter Thorne himself...

Thorne overlooked the endless concrete jungle of Earth, hearing the ping of a message arriving for him. He swivelled round in his chair and opened it, a smirk on his face, a little laugh but visible concern. An attack of some Highers by someone from the Accepted class. Thorne had to make an example. And a perfect opportunity to use the ace up his sleeve - a relentless, merciless, adaptable and ruthless assassin, loyal to him only... They'll get the jobe done...

For centuries, Tellus has been at war or at peace with no inbetween. With the rise and fall of many empires and kingdoms, the realms have seen constant change, barely any lasting long. The Valmorian Empire, Hakrwood Elves and Iron Guild Dwarves stand as the few defiant to this rule - existing for hundreds of years, although throughout periods of its time being ravage by war, corruption, rebellions and succession crisises. These three empires formed The Union, an alliance for all three that ensured protection against outside empires and control of a large section of their continent. However, a threat is growing...

On the other continent, the Tengrid Empire led by Khan Altan Gantömör, conquer and raze all that oppose them. The Khan and his Tengrid horde ride proudly atop their horse mounts, using speed and strategy to overwhelm and break their enemies. These warriors are just as skilled off their horses as they are on them, creating tactics never seen or countered before. It is because of Khan Altan's brutal approach to war that it has earned him the many nicknames but most importantly the closure of a continent wide conflict, ending in his favour. But the Khan had his eyes set on a greater goal - conquering the largest continent...

Rumours circulate the 2 unconquered continents of Atherius and Merothia are the next targets for the Khan's expansionism. Unfortunately, these stories are not so much rumours as stories say that the Tengrid Empire are establishing beach heads across the main continent, preparing for a full scale invasion. These stories also tell the unfortunate tale that caravans, traders and villages get raided and plundered by the Khan's forces to take what they need - and want - for the Tengrid war effort. If the rumours are true, how long could the empires and cities of the continents last? With the Khan's adaptive tactic to war of speed, strength and strategy, who will be next to fall under his banner?

This is where you, Adventurer, come in. Whether called to service by your lord or ruler, voluntarily chose to help or for any other reason, regardless, you and your new friends are to set out on an adventure to stop the Khan and his Tengrid forces from flying their banner over the battlements of your homes. The Tengrid horde is endless, the Khan is persistent, ruthless and powerful - but you, Adventurer, may be what stops him from conquering the empires of Tellus...

Name:
Age:
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"Someone actually appreciates our work!" The commanding trooper replied, laughing. After hearing the rest of Gaz's talk, the troopers slightly raised their rifles. "You know that unlicensed fights are illegal, especially if there's wagers? I don't think you'll be going to Thorne but you will be getting out of here, just not the way you wish." The commander added, gesturing for two troopers to arrest and detain Gaz. A trooper restrained Gaz's hands while the other searched his jacket, finding the pistol. "This registered? Actually, it doesn't matter for you, does it?" The trooper rudely commented, pushing him into the shuttle as Gaz was surrounded by those that persued him, the door shutting...

While Celeste told Admiral Romaine her accounts of what happened on The Nightengale, he made sure to type in her own words and not his own interpretation. "Well, McLaren..." Thomas responded, his face in his hands. "Captain Wilford's actions are inexcusable. I will do everything I can to attempt to set things right or at least clear them up. I'll see to it that he is personally held accountable for what's happened and administer a punishment after consulting the Board..." The Admiral slid across a datapad to Celeste, detailing the report he just typed along with all the actions that may be available to be taken - very narrow. "I know it's not a lot but... without consulting the Board, there's only so much I can do. Even if I do, results won't change much..." After breaking the news, Romaine had a very solemn look plastered across his face. "As restitution for what's happened, consider your debts cleared. No punishment will come to you or the surviving passengers and crew. As I can see, there is no wrong doing on your end so hopefully you will be able to be released soon." He added, a fragile and shaky smile. "I apologise for what has happened, McLaren. Remember those that lost their lives. While you're in custody, no harm will come to you or the others as an appreciation of your honesty and not going for my sidearm." Thomas gently nodded, calling for the troopers to escort her out, putting his sidearm away...

A mechanic and a squad of four troopers entered the man's room, seeing him restrained. As the mechanic approached the monitor, the man attacked, strangling the mechanic. The troopers raised their rifles and without warning, began to fire. The bullets hit the mechanic and the man, the mechanic recieving the worst, falling to the floor, bleeding heavily. Two medics rushed in, one for either man. The man was strapped back to the table, the restraints tighter and sedated as his wounds treated. Two troopers left the room, two remaining, rifles loaded and on unsafe should he try to escape again...

A small Avalon 'Richmond' class corvette patroled the area between Orthius IV and New Haven, going the route as usual and performing necessary inspections. When a salvage ship passed by, the crew of the corvette found nothing peculiar about it at first but upon further investigation of the crew and crew manifest, a crew member was not on the manifest - Cleve Menu. Without any words, two troopers apprehended him, taking him aboard the shuttle to head back to the corvette where their patrol ended near The Redeemer which would be jumping towards New Haven very soon...

"Why are we heading for The Nightingale? Why is it abandoned? Why are you bringing me?" Intrigued the doctor, the captain's second clearly irritated. "You ask too many questions doctor. How about introductions? I am Captain Roman Kaminski of 'The Vulture', the scavenger vessel you were just on. This is my second, Pieter Altena. And you are?" Commented Roman, a brief and noticeable silence in the shuttle. "I'm Dr. Erik Nielsen. I suppose I'm a former Avalon employee now?" Kaminski nodded, gesturing to Pieter who held out a new jacket for Erik. "Wear it. You're a free person now. All we ask is you help us check this ship then we'll let you go. You have my word." Erik hesitantly took the new jacket and after checking it up and down, quickly put it on, nodding in appreciation. "Sir, we're approaching the hangar bay now. Still no response." The pilot remarked, promting Roman, Pieter and the 5 scavengers they brought eith them to arm their weapons in anticipation...

The longer the younger entity watched, the more he became captivated by this universe and those that resided in it. It was... entertaining. "Still at it? They're fighting against something they can't control. Showing this to The Council won't change anything." The tougher entity said in a harsh and meaningful tone. "But still, they continue. They can change the outcome for their universe. Even the smallest people can have the biggest impact, whether by accident or on purpose. Out of the possible different universes, this is one of the only ones to fight back. This could be a chance for a new string of universes, one to breathe life back into the Garden of Expanse." Silence. "I believe you may be right. In countless universes, over countless millenia, humans have always been engaged in fighting, against themselves or the elements or even something else. Not just humans. There are many unaccounted possibilities in this universe alone. This is what is needed... maybe the Changing that The Grand Creator told us about?" The older entity added, gazing into the anomalous universe...

As Gaz ran towards a small group of Avalon troopers, they aimed their rifles at him and the 10 chasing him, putting them all dead in their tracks. "Stop where you are. Hands up. On your knees, now." A trooper barked, the squad hurrying over to the 11 individuals, calling for backup and cuffing their hands. While cuffing, a few of the pursuers tried to run from authority, being gunned down before they even made it to the end of the street. The trooper in command, identifiable by his red right shoulder pad, equips a device that he promtply uses to begin scanning the apprehended suspects. "Well, well, well. Skipping your shifts at your factory for some easy credits?" The commader spoke, picking out half of the remaining group, seperating them. "Tell me what happened. Had to restrain you, for our safety of course." He added, facing Gaz. As a shuttle landed, the group seperated from Gaz were taken onboard and processed before being shot and thrown out until only 5 remained - Gaz and four of his pursuers...

"Yes, McLaren - an accident. And because of this accident which has resulted in unnecessary deaths, you have been stripped of your rank, as have all your surviving crew members. Some of which might I add are going to be sent to the Reclaimer's cells. The others... well, I can't say for sure." Replied Captain Wilford, an evil smile upon his face. Power, wealth and influence are all we need to control the human spirit. You claim to be free of all of this yet we all know you desire the same as every individual does - the exact same thing." After a moment of silence and recieving a notification on his datapad, Wilford comments on McLaren's remark. "When will you learn, McLaren? Corporations have the true power, not the government. It is in human nature to aspire to be above others. You, your crew, your family, your friends - everyone, are numbers to us, products, workers, statistics, investments. Being a citizen is an illusion, McLaren. Everyone knows their place, as should you." The captain finished, the shuttle convoy reaching the Redeemer...

Thomas Romaine stood on the bridge of The Redeemer, Thorne's prized flagship, observing the endless nature of space. As per his request, Celeste McLaren had been brought to the bridge, secured by restraints with two armed guards. A guard removed the sack from her head, the Grand Admiral turning to face her, keeping composure. "Captain Celeste McLaren. I want to make one thing clear - I never gave Captain Wilford orders to find the Nightengale and commit the attrocities he did, nor arrest you. I merely only ordered him to search the last known area for a vessel. And I do offer my sincere condolences to you amd your crew, I will see to it he is held accountable and you are all given jjst compensation." As the Grand Admiral started walking, the guards dragged Celeste to follow him. Leading her to his office, he sat at his desk, opening a file. "Remove her restraints and wait outside." Upon the orders, the troopers did as they were told, standing by the door outside. "Please, sit. I'd like to inquire about some details. As a sign of trust..." Romaine places his pistol on his desk, within arms reach of both. "I know it seems difficult, McLaren, but if you give me the hoenst details, I can see to it Wilford gets punished..."

The troopers securing the unconscious man escorted him to the cells, placing him in one, still on the stretcher. A medical trooper entered and administered another dose of a sedative, making sure the restraints are a bit tighter due to the unkown nature of the man...

Samenkov, the resourceful man he is, managed to find some trace of the perpetrator in stealing The Redeemer's blueprints. After extensive investigation and a few unorthodox approaches, he had concluded that Senator Bushing was involved, who of which Yuri had made sure would never be a problem again. With Bushing's 'confession', Yuri knew he would be meeting a contact at Orion's, giving a very vague description of the individual. With permission from Thorne, Samenkov started to close in on the area, narrowing down the suspect...

The middle aged man on the bridge of the scavenger vessel was approached by the same man and the scientist. "Well?" The leader asked, the scientist trembling in his Avalon labcoat. "There were beings from the void. They came from the blackhole. I picked up the readings and reported them but they didn't believe me. I knew what was going to happen so I hid. It's signature was different from stars or other recorded anomalies - it was... from somewhere else." The leader faced the scientist, curious. "If you think we're handing you to Avalon, you're wrong. If you co-operate, me and my scavengers will help you with your research. I trust you know that Avalon thinks you're dead?" The scientist nodded, still shaky. "Good. That makes it easier..." The leader replied, facing a seemingly abandoned cruise vessel - The Nightengale...


The younger entity, observing the flow of the current universe, was still pondering which individuals to choose. The tougher entity continued to harass him over his obsession while the elder entity continued to be supportive. The Grand Creator gave the entities the Garden of Expanse, a great duty bestowed upon them, one of which The Council seem to have less interest in woth every passing moment. A choice needed to be made, and soon...

Captain Wilford enters the most forward transport shuttle, standing on the ramp, hands clasped behind his back. "Bring Captian McLaren and the more valuable individuals in here. I want to have a word with them." He says, a sinister smile on his face. As McLaren, Andreas, Redford and a couple of troopers board the shuttle, the ramp closes and the shuttle lifts off. Wilford sits opposite McLaren, taking his pistol from his holster, firmly holding it. "Captain McLaren, have you learnt nothing? The UAE has and will have no jurisdiction. Your idealism in the fact that you believe that they have power over us is rather humorous. I'm sure you know your history - Avalon is gone. He's been gone for years and is most likely dead. We are at our height of power, influence and wealth of which we never would have achieve under Alexander. A conservationist of the environment but also pushing for greater industry? They can't go hand in hand. You should be thankful of the work we have accomplished, all of you. The galaxy has never been safer, the economy is higher than it has ever been and political instability is all but gone. Isn't this what Alexander wanted?" Wilford checks his handgun, putting it back. "I won't shoot you. Enough blood has been spilt. Admitedly, I wanted my troopers to stun those who ran but..." Wilford shrugs his shoulders. "Accidents happen. That's what it will be wrote off as. Don't worry, we'll ensure the bodies get taken care of." Steven looked through a datapad, handed to him by his second officer. "And that's what it will be..."

Grand Admiral Thomas Romaine browsed through the files presented before him on his desks holotable, showcasing various reports from missions, transfer logs of equipment and personnel and other various relevenat documents. Just now, a file peaked his interest, titled 'The Nightengale Incident' - Romaine thought to himself, wondering where he had heard that name before. He recalled hearing that The Nightengale was the most top-of-the-line vessel for space cruises. Upon further reading, he became appauled by what he saw, questioning if he sent the right person. The report read: 'I, Captain Steven Wilford, was charged with finding the lost prototype nebula mining vessel by Grand Admiral Thomas Romaine. When arriving the co-ordinates of the vessel's last known location, The Nightengale was in vincinity of where it was last reported. We were met with hostility upon hailing and further hostility when coming face-to-face with Captain Celeste McLaren. She is in custody following breaches of numerous galactic laws. Troopers attempted ship-wide peaceful pacification with stun but due to miscommunication resulted in deaths of crew and passengers. Report pending further investigation.' Romaine closed the holotable, putting his face in his hands...

A large, beaten and dishevled vessel entered the artificial orbit of the ravage research station, a small shuttle being dispatched to check for the source of the distress call. Stepping foot in the station, a group of armed individuals, each with different and varying weapons and equipment, looked high and low, trying to find anything worth taking - salvagers. A brief fight can be heard, two of the armed group dragging the unconscious scientist with them back the docked shuttle, seeing nothing of value worth taking. Throwing the scientist in a small cell and reporting nothing worth taking, the vessel departed the articial orbit, entering hyperjump to an unknown destination. "Absolutely nothing?" A middle aged man asks, curious. "Nothing sir. Just lots of blood and marks, barely any bodies." One if the scouts replied, handing the man a datapad. "Well, at least we were able to save someone..." The man commented, handing it back after a short read. "He kept rambling about some other beings or wahtever coming from the black hole, sir. It really put us on edge - not that I believe any of it mind you." The man thought, looking out at the endless abyss before him. "Give them rest time. I will talk to him when he seems more bearable." With a sharp gesture, the individual left, leaving the man on the bridge...

The troopers guarding the unconscious man noticed the twitching, deciding to strap him firmly to the table, increasing the dosage of the medicine. One of the troopers recieves a comm, asking for an update of which the trooper confirms the status of their new prisoner. The shuttle takes a sharp turn, heading to a different destination...

Thorne met with 'The Five', looking rather displeased at the most recent news on his desk. "What do you mean 'It's gone'?" He asks sharply, anger in his voice. "Someone slipped under the radar and took the plans. I have since doubled security and efforts to find the perpetrator but have so far turned up empty handed." Yuri replied, fearful although a very rarely fearful man. "Find. It." Quickly and harshly Peter comments, dismissing Samenkov. "Amentro, find a way to keep our investors attention for our... project. Do whatever you need to but do your job well and I won't have you go missing." Following Thorne's threat, Logan slowly waddled his way out of the room, leaving as quickly as his legs could take him. "Eversome, use your influence and personality to prevent this getting out. No lazing around, get to it now." Before Charlie could reply, Thorne stared into the pit of his soul through his eyes, anticipating a protest. Realising this, Charlie anxiously left the room, leaving Dr. Havers. "Continue work on the main project. We need it completed. This work will solidify my power and control, making us wealthy beyond our imagination." Dr. Havers grinned like the devil himself, speaking up. "As long as I can continue my experiments..." With a nod from Thorne, the twisted doctor moved out the room...

The younger entity pondered the choices laid out before him, wondering who to chose to become one of the Uplifted. A few peaked his interest: A wronged ship captain, a resourceful criminal and a determined brawler, maybe potentially more. There was no room for error as there was only one choice. The Council seemed to care less and less about the Garden of Expanse, a rather concerning development with their justification being that it will be the same result. Despite the bullying from the tougher entity and with the wisdom of the elder entity, the younger being felt confident that they could be proven wrong. The Grand Creator bestowed upon them a task that they must accomplish - one that the younger being might have to remind the Council of...

Wayne looked around the room, notiicng there were a lot of people, all unfortunate to be in the same situation. At one of the tables, someone was sitting and picking at the thing on his arm, trying to take it out. At the doorways to one of the rooms, someone else was being blinded by the rather bright atrium lights. And another doorway, someone else gatgering their bearings, taking in their surroundings. There was a speaker, playing the same song over and over again, a low tune meant to calm people. Where there wasn't bedrooms or other important facilities, there was thick glass where scientists and security stood, observing and watching, either taking down notes or ensuring there were no troublemakers. One thing that was consistent on their uniforms however, was the Salus Corporation logo, indicating that Salus were the ones who kidnapped and operated on the people present. For the logo, the letter S was there in the form of 90° angles and straight lines, divided by a line horizontal across the middle, the letter C resting on top - a distingushing feature of the corporation. Who knows what other sick and twisted projects they've been working on alongside this one...

"I see we have a new batch of Reawakened. I do hope this one is more competent than the others." Spoke a mysterious man, leaning on a cane, observing the atrium. "They're getting familiar with their surroundings and then we can split them up, sending to complete their first Evaluation. We're expecting to see a high amount of them..." Before the doctor can finish, the man interupts him. "Yes, I know. The problem is they let their fear control them too much. They let their fear become a core component for their decisions. They hold onto their past, their present. They look to them for comfort or courage. That overrides their fear. However, this belief in the fact that someone is waiting for them or looking for them is what gets them killed. They become too confident in themselves and make easy and avoidable mistakes. Either that or simply the Fallen are too good at what they do." After a moment of silence, the doctor speaks up. "Sir, if I may... the Fallen. They're too sick and twisted for us to help. We can't do anything for them. Why are they still around?" The man responds, clenching his free fist in anger. "You of all people should know doctor. They are a learning error. A mistake. A chance to improve. It is a way for not only us to grow on what knowledge we have but also for the Reawakened to have a challenge on their way to the Salvation of Renewal. Without a challenge, the Evaluations are simple too easy, thus making them pointless. Bring me the file of Henry Darcy. He will make a rather interesting first subject for the Reawakened..." The conversation ends with the doctor walking away, leaving the man to watch the guinea pigs in the atrium...

Hello my friends! How are we all? I've never been in here before. I thought I should drop in and say hi! I'm Pine, I'm always open to meet new people! Hope we're all well!

"I don't quite like your tone Captain McLaren. May I remind you that this... venture is only capable because of Avalon investment? If you are unable to repay said capital to our investors, then perhaps you are an unworthy captain." Captain Wilford replied, a slight smirk across his face. "Now, if you were smart enough, you'd remember how I said 'prototype' vessel. And that means we do not like to disclose about prototypes, especially to insignificant captains on a ship that transports the wealthy. It is my duty to keep Avalon property and secrets safe, this vessel being one of them. If you have been so far behind in payments as you have been, then this ship will need to be repossesed." With a snap of his fingers, the two troopers raised their rifles, four more troopers entering the room. "Captain McLaren, you signed a contract when you took this position, did you not?" The aide accompanying Wilford handed him a dataslate containing a document. "In fact, your whole crew did. But the fact is, you nor did your crew read the fine print. I imagine you didn't read it at all due to all the excitement for being captain of a top-of-the-line civilian starship. This document states that if said caotain, you, is behind on payment by a certain period, two layments, then said captain and crew can be taken into custody and await trial for fraudulent use of Avalon Corporation property. In short terms, Captain McLaren, you are under arrest on the authority granted to me by the Avalon Corporation for lack of co-operation with an Avalon officer, committing fraudulent activity against the corporation for personal benefit and for not following simple orders set by military corporate personnel. Don't make this difficult McLaren. You are relieved of duty and are to come with me peacefully, as are your crew. We will take it from here..." Wilford stated, the troopers blocking the only exit...

One of the troopers talking to Andreas suddenyl recieved a comm in his helmet. Afterwards, the two troopers raised their rifles at Andreas. "You and the other crew gere are to surrender any weapons on your person and put your hands up. Resisting to do so will result in death, do you understand?" Without giving Andreas a chance to apeak, one of the troopers threw him to the floor and tied his hands. "Forget the formalities, just round them up." The other nodded as the troops in the hangar started to detain all those who weren't Avalon, shooting those that dared fleee... 

Throughout the halls and corridors of the Nightengale was filled with rifle fire and panic as Avalon troopers patrolling the ship started to arrest anyone and everyone, shooting those that ran. Eventually, a large group of troopers got to the bar area where majorityof the occupants were, blocking all exits. "Everyone, emoty your pockets and get against the wall. Those who fail to comply will be shot, understand?" As everyone started to get against the wall, the loud thumping walk of an APW could be heard, walking towards the room, the other remaining in the hangar...

Name: Wayne Tucker

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Personality: Curious, perceptive and caring

Skills: Quiet and cautious

Appearance: Brown hair shaved lightly both sides and at the back, combed backwarda at the top, blue eyes, average height, wearing light grey t-shirt and pants with the Salus logo on the back and right leg

Wayne suddenly woke up, sitting up immediately, looking around, scared and confused. He was in a room that was spacious, including a toilet, sink, desk, small bookshelf and a bunkbed - his being empty, but for how long? Turning his gaze to himself, he inspected his right forearm - where the surgeon started his so-called 'procedure'. Some sort of device or machine was surgically and painfully implanted into his skin. Upon further inspection in the mirror above the sink, he noticed that a few other changes had been made, not know what they all were. Scratching at them was useless - they were in there for good and there was no way of removing them... 

Stepping out of the room, Wayne entered and atrium with a few more rooms similar to his. All filled with people who were as unlucky as he was. His forst thought was to look around and meet others as it was better to know those who he'd be stuck with now than later. In the centre, lay tables where people could eat and socialise with the canteen not being far. On the floor were markers of where everything was: an infirmary, a technician (for whatever reason), a cook and a security desk behind thick glass. Deciding it would be best to get his bearings woth others, Ter walked to the centre of the atrium and sat at a table, looking around for anyone to talk to...

1975 - The Vietnam War has ended with a withdrawal of US forces from the region. Many soldiers returning to the States suffer from all matter of injuries and afflictions, from mental of the physical. The Salus Corporation has risen to prominence as the best company for both veterans and civilians to better their lives by improving their health with the best treatment around. However, all is not as it seems...

Unbeknownst to the public, the Salus Corporation had a different idea of "helping" people. On the surface, they treated only certain individuals to make it seem they were doinf what they said. But for those unlucky people, something much more sinister awaits - the Salus Corporation's true intentions for those they believe they can make better or "true". Their services were free and available for anyone and everyone and although some were skeptical, many signed up as almost no one could deny free healthcare...

Leaflets, posters, radio advertisements, TV advertisements, bill boards - any and all forms of advertising were used to try and get people to go. While walking, you come across yet another one of these adverts as a scrunched up leaflet. Curious, you decide to read the leaflet to see what intrigues most...

Are you suffering from any phsycial or mental disabilities? Are you tired of how you're living your life? Wish you could do something about it?

Well, now you can! 

At the Salus Corporation, we make the well-being of you - the individual - our utmost top priority! We won't rest until whatever is afflicting you is gone and you can be the person you want to be! 

We welcome all through our doors, regardless of your gender, race or social class! At the Salus Corporation, humanity is our expertise!

Sign up today for your chance to unburdden yourself of all your problems! 

Interested at the promise of free healthcare, you head on over to the nearest Salus Corporation office. You are shown in to a waiting room where a few people remain and are sent into an office room, the only one in the building, where you sign a document with all the relevant information. Upon finishing signing, two men grab and sedate you, throwing your unconscious body into what is presumed to be a truck or van, surrounded by the bodies of others, before you pass out...

The next thing you know, you wake up, tied to a medical surgery table, being pushed to a room. Blood curdling screams can be heard from the room ahead - the exact room you are being pushed to. The closer you get the the double doors, the more the screams can be heard. Dreading the moment, you are eventually pushed into the room, the reason for the screams more evident. A surgeon of some sort was operating on an imdivodual, on his forearm, trying to carefully remove an object before finally ripping it straight off, the screams turning to silence. Another doctor approaches, holdinf a cliboard, gesturing to you, their masks obscuring their faces. "Yet another new one for the pile..."  the doctir says, letting our a sigh. "Well, you seem like you'll fit in well with the others." Although you couodn't see it, you could tell there was a sinister smile under his face. "Niw, I need either a nod or a shake of your head to confirm that you have agreed to this..." Strangely, you feel your head unable to move. "I'll take the lack of movement as a yes..." As the doctor finishes speaking, the other starts surgically cutting into the skin of your right forearm. "Don't worry, the pain soon passes..."

You are not invincible. You can only run and hide. You cannot fight but. You can block paths, throw objects or distract your enemies but you cannot fight back - you are powerless, they are powerful. Your survival depends on your choices. Your survival depends on the choices of others. Stay alone or go as a group. The choice is yours - but heed these words: the Project will break you. It eill reforge you. You may not be the same person you were at the start...

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Age:

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"Captain McLaren, I come from Thorne's flagship, 'The Redeemer'. I have been sent on a scouting mission to look for a lost minig vessel carrying prototype equipment that is extremely valuable. It's last registered location was here - the Marinus Nebula." Captain Wilford presumptiously walked to the main terminal, ordering the minor officer to access it as he plugged in his datapad, swipping through the records. "This vessel is carrying very wealthy individuals, is it not?" He asked further, two troopers blocking the doorway as he scans over the datapad. "It also says here you are late for your payment to the Avalon Commercial and Civilian Shipping Hub? As well as that the payment was under-delivered on last time it was paid? Explain." The captain met Celeste's stare with an even colder one. "I hope you do realise what they think of those who are late on their payment and underpay such an important and valuable branch of the Avalon Corporation. Trade and credits are what keep our galaxy and our species going, Captain McLaren." After a moment of silence, Wilford turns to the star map. "But, I digress. The prototype mining vessel is called the 'USS Orthius' and is the size of an exploratory scienve vessel. Now Captain, perhaps you have seen our prototype vessel?"

Meanwhile, in the hangar, the two APWs were patrolling, ensuring no unauthorised shuttles came or went and that the personnel stayed in full compliance. Two troopers approached Preston cautiously, "Is this the main hangar? Are there any others?" An APW walked over to where the two troopers had stopped Preston, it's large aut-rifle standing as a marvel of engineering but also as an intimidating tool against a defenless crewman of a civilian starship. In the distance by one of the shuttles, a trooper was manning a makeshift comms station by the shuttle's door, a visible panic on his face. The trooper standing by his aide hurried to get an officer or trooper that was above their rank - something was happening...

An entire research station orbiting a blackhole - empty, its ruined walls, abandoned corridors and the pieces of debris scattered around the station's artifical orbit, ready to be enveloped by the very thing the crew studied. Stramgely, there were fee bodies, barely any - only those that whoever or whatever attacked decided wouldn't suit their purposes, whatever they may be. One of the very very few survivors, possibly the only survivor, crawled out from his hidding place, frightened and fearing if the beings that attacked are still there or would be back. Cautiously, he made his way to the comms centre, observing the marks of battle that adorned the halls and rooms - blaster marks, human blood, only the most brutalised and mangled bodies remaining - no survivors or bodies in the infirmary... Whatever or whoever did this was thorough, as if they had been planning it for a while. However, there was no time for speculation, he had to get a message out. Unfortunately, most of the equipment was heavily damaged but luckily for him, there was enough to send out a very short signal in a short radius but only for a while. He had to hope that there was enough power for it to work and send out an SOS... And hope that Avalon didn't rescue him, otherwise he'd meet an equal or worse fate...

Caotain Steven Wilford stepped off one of the shuttles, escorted by 35 troopers, the other 35 stepping off the second shuttle and from the third amd fourth shuttles stepped off the 15 troopers, assisting in the unloading and unfolding of the two APWs. APWs (Armoured Personnel Walkers) were large, hulking mounds of metal designed to be operated by a trained and qualified Walker, a trooper who either volunteered or was chosen to pilot an APW. These specific APWs were a certain variant, made especially for combat and enforcement, equipped with a shoulder mounted grenade launcher on the right shoulder and an automatic weapon with powerful weapons that only an APW or extremely strong individual could lift and use. The suit was roughly two humans tall with thick armour and bulletproof glass for the pilot's compartment, making them perfect for heavy lifting kr dealing with insurgents, hence why their widespread use across Thorne's galactic dominion. Captain Wilford approached Celeste, hands clasped behind his back, an inferior officer using a data pad with four troopers following. "You must be..." Steven gestured to the inferior officer who showed him Celeste's file, disinterested at the most. "Captain McLaren. I'm Captain Steven Wilford of the Avalon 23rd Trooper Regiment. I come here on official orders direct from my superiors. The nature of my mission I cannot disclose. I expect full co-operation from you and your crew. We are to depart for the bridge immediately where I will continue to talk further. Shall we?" He gestured towards the door, annoyed...

One of the troopers in the shuttle noticed the strange mysterious man was awake and asking for water. The trooper begrudgingly obliged and handed him a small water pack from the medical kit, administering it for him. The shuttle started to approach its destination as the same trooper equipped a gas mask on the man, knocking him unconcious until he was needed again...

"This universe certainly is an oddity, is it not?" A third voice said, this one much older and wiser than the other two. "They push what they know of their science and knowledge to its limits, not knowing there's more or it can be pushed further than they every could've imagined." After a brief moment of silence, the younger voice spoke up. "There is on individual who is certainly the most interesting of them all. A highly unique man possessing great power and control in his own, but shows restraint, wisdom and compassion - all which most, if not all, leaders across the various infinities seem to relenquish once they take the mantle of being a great figure." The course voice responds, rather curious. "And who is this figure? Surely one cannot be such an oddity across our grand creations." The lighter voice takes another moment to think before replying. "Doctor Alexander Avalon. In this universe, where I first began to see his prominence as a man of power but also humanity, he leads what the human call a corporation, one of their many upon many ideas and creations, much as the Garden of Expanse is our own. This corporation grew to such size that it rivaled and beat others. However, there is a key defining factor between Avalon's corporation and the others - his compassion. From the start he was an intelligent man with the worry of wellbeing for his fellow humankind in his heart. He used his honesty, his love for his fellow kind and his innovation to grow his corporation. He set himself aside as different and bettered the lives of the entire human race. He led them to where they are today all without compromising his own self values and without treason and scandals and turning on those who helped him. This man I believe can help us." The three entities went silent, the elder one and the coarse one amused and bewildered by the young one's ambition and interest in such an individual and such a universe. "I do believe that you two have been discussing a very minute and small group of select people to know of our existence?" The elder one asks, further fascinated. "Yes, we have. We are still deciding on who to choose." The coarse voice notes, the elder one deep in thought. "As similar to this 'Doctor Avalon', you may choose individuals who you believe represent unique and select values in the human race. You have one chance to pick those select few. Make your choice wisely." Closes the elder one, the younger being and the coarse being investigating the current universe...

Meanwhile, on a research station orbiting near a black hole, a scientist studying the gravitational formation noted a strange anomaly on his monitor. As he looked at the first one, another one appeared, then another one and then more. He downloaded the information to his data pad before rushing to tell his superior. "Sir, this is... concerning to say the least..." the scientist said, handing the data pad to his superior. The head scientist passes the data pad back, visibke concern on his face. "Contact High Administration and send them this. Give my clearance. Explain to them what is going on. Get to it immediately." The head scientist says, turning back to his desk, the scientist running to the communication station...

Long before the Avalon Corporation took over sole control of the United Administration of Earth, various parties represented people and certain interests across the territory it originally held before its expansion. Dr. Avalon left galactic politics alone by letting Aquarius handle it, ensuring the seperation between government and corporation. However, when Thorne became head of Avalon, he stamped down on the different parties, making Aquarius' political group the sole majority to maintain control. The political groups met in a place called 'The Atrium' - a vast and grand hall for the groups to represent their ideas and those that followed them. Originally, certain groups held positions in The Atrium: the Galactic Socialist Movement (A group campaigning for Socialism across the territories held by the UAE), the Federalist Union of Systems (A group that wanted the administration to be reformed into a federation with a greater quality of life for all), the Sol Retreatists (A group protesting that humans should not focus on scientific, economic or governmental expansion but instead other humans), the Earth Unionists (The ruling group - the group in charge of the UAE) and the Supremacists (A group dedicated to dividing humanity through harsh and cruel rule). The Atrium had a group for almost all political representations which was a joint venture by Dr. Avalon and Aquarius - the oversight and security by Richard, the construction and funding/upkeep by Alexander. The history of The Atrium is not a hidden one but it is a suppressed one, the Earth Unionists being the only group left. Richard knew this ans he knew if they wanted a chance to stop Thorne, he'd need to united the groups. And he needed help, urgently...

A squad of four Avalon troopers was patroling the streets of Orthius IV, keeping Thorne's distorted and twisted "peace". As the patrol was wandering the bustling and populated centre, a citizen approached them, hesitantly and timidly talking about a concern - an unconscious man laying on the platform of their apartment. The small squad followed the citizen back to their apartment, searching the place until they made their eay to the balcony where the body of a man lay. The trooper in charge if the squad gestured to the other three with two picking him up, one carrying his arms and the other his legs with the third checking the man's body, taking items of interest. The commanding trooper thanked the citizen for notifying them, handing them a measly 20C (Credits) for their effort, barely anything for a citizen of their standing. A shuttle started to land in the overcrowded area, citizens quickly husyling out the way as two troopers secured the ramp. The small squad loaded on with the mysterioud and unconcious man, the two guards following, the shuttle flyinf away as quickly as it hand landed...

"So, this is the universe you have taken interest in, hm? Out of the countless billions and billions, this is the one you take interest in?" A coarse and rough voice asks. "Yes, this is the one I believe so. You and the Council may not believe it but this is the one." A smooth and lighter voice replies. "We have created, watched and destroyed endless universes. Formed uncountable amounts of galaxies and stars. Yet one thing remains the same - the humans. Although we have created other life, this species fascinates me. Every universe is different yet similar. Humans are unique in the way they have values, morals, beliefs, ideologies, genetics and many others. A constant in every universe, this one I believe is the one." The lighter voice adds. "Our role in the unfathomable expanse of space is to monitor and maintain every universe that was, it to be and is yet to be created. If they are to even catch a fragment of our existence, it will fracture this universe you hold dear and send it into disarray. Everything they believe and know will be lost." The coarse voice replies, rather judgementally. "While this may be the case, fate may have another answer. At any moment, we can interject in any universe at any time for any reason. But yet we do not and have not. We have let them play out. They were a maturing species throughout the course of their history. However, commendable figures have risen to fight evil, balancing out the galaxy they inherit. Revealing ourselves to them all will cause an end for this balance. Instead, I propose we reveal ourselves to a very very very small group and send them on their destiny, as we have done before. It is our requirement and it is necesscary. You know this..." Comments the lighter voice. "You must choose wisely. We cannot risk this going wrong. Only the individuals that are perfect can be chosen. The Prophecy must be fulfilled..." The coarse voice states, ending the conversation of two unknown interstellar beings...

4 trooper dropships jumped into a nearby system in the Marinus Nebula. Two of the shuttles carried 35 troopers each and the other two two folded up APWs with their pilots and 15 troopers each. Upon arriving and searching for the missing mining vessel for a while, a ship appeared in the distance. The officer in charge, Captain Steven Wilford, hunched over the control panel of one of the pilots. "What is it? It looks civilian..." He asked, a tone of annoyance. "It is a civilian vessel sir. Named the 'Nightingale'. Should we go in closer for inspection?" Asked the pilot. Captain Wilford nodded as the small squadron flew towards the Nightingale, circling the ship. "Get me on communication with their captain." Steven demanded, the pilot complying. There was a brief moment of static followed by silence as he opened the communication channel. "This is Captain Steven Wilford of the Avalon Corporation. You are to clear your ship's hangar for the arrival of me and my troopers. Your captain is to meet me in the hangar and comply with any orders that I give. Any attempt to flee or failure to follow these orders will result in detainment and/or execution. This is non-negotiable." The pilot looked up at Captain Wilford, his face hidden by his mask but one of concern. "S-Sir, that's a civilian vessel... Those people are innocent." Irritated by his remark, Steven got close to the pilot, staring into his eyes with a blank gaze. "You are to do as you are ordered. If they flee, you open fire. Pray it does not come to that..." He remarked, taking some steps back and heading to the seats with the other troopers. "Notify me if anything happens..."

Evan Davinshawe felt sorry for the poor soul he had just murdered. It can't be helped in the underworld of an Avalon factory world... A planet's surface covered completely in factories, construction yards and vast industries, funnelling fumes into the atmosphere. Said fumes were them recycled into a breathable air supply for the entire planet, ensuring a constant balance of a polluted atmosphere with a breathable one. To make an "liveable" amount of money, even for a Lesser, sometimes one would have to commit crims or do things they thought they would never do or have to do. The man in the alley had pulled the guy on him first so he had to pull his. Self-defense was a necessity for most, if not all, Lessers. Peacekeepers often avoid certain areas and when they do visit ares they don't want to, bodies and bullets normally follow. Evan normally makes a living trying to swindle people out of their money but when violence calls for it, it must be acted on. Hoping to save enough money to get away, he saved every credit to achieve his dream job: legally scamming Uppers by working for a casino on one of the best cruiseliners in the galaxy - the Nightingale...

Thorne sat at a meeting with the four people responsible for helping him maintaining his empire: Yuri Samenkov - A brickhouse of a man, originating from Old Russia. Dr. George Havers - A cruel man with a twisted mind but useful for his inegnuity. Logan Amentro - A rather lazy and out-of-shape man.  Charlie Eversome - A spoilt and stuck-up pathetic man. All five sat around a table, Thorne at the head. The purpose of the meeting? - Interview Head Administrator Richard Aquarius about his involvement in ICARUS, a suspected anti-corruption group headed by him to remove Thorne and find Dr. Avalon. "You are certain you have no involvement or relation to ICARUS, Head Administrator?" Asked Thorne with a curious tone. "I am positive, Mr. Thorne. Instead, I believe this supposed group to be led by those below me to try and remove you an-" Before Richard could finish, Samenkov cut him off, speaking with a thick accent and a tone as heavy as his punches. "If there are any dissidents in the ranks below you and you know, why haven't you reported this to us? Or dealt with them?" Richard had a shiver sent down his spine, intimidated by not only Yuri's size and strength, but the prescence of 'The Five'. "Well... I didn't want to report them without any solid evidence. I haven't found any yet but as soon as I do, I will let you know..." He replied, fearful but playing calm. "Very well Head Administrator. You may go but we will continue his meeting later in my office..." Thorn comments, dismissing Aquarius. He stood upz gathering himself before quickly leaving. If they needed to find Dr. Avalon, they needed to do it now...

'The Redeemer' - An impressive and impecable marvel of engineering being one of the most grand, expensive and lengthy construction projects of the Avalon Corporation. Beginning construction in 2372, one year into Thorne's rule of terror, plans for the grand starship were proposed and approved by Thorne himself under the premise that the fleets needed a flagship and he needed a symbol of control and order under his regime. 'The Redeemer' was built to contain a hospital, a small prison, grand engineeeing bays, vast and endless quarters and entertainment districts for the crew, countless military complexes - a truly undescribable giant of steel, plasteel and other consolidated resources. Floating through the endless abyss of space, equipped with the finest equipment - for both vessels and ground forces - it drifts from planet to planet, system to system, keeling peace and stability in Thorne's empire. An unsinkable legend, 'The Redeemer' approaches a beautiful nebula where a mining vessel was last reported: a special kind fitted with the technology able to gain materials from the nebula without destroying it's wonder - a re-usable resource...

Grand Admiral Thomas Romaine, the officer in charge of 'The Redeemer', stood on its open deck and taking in the view of what is called the Marinus Nebula which is a great spectacle for the inhabitants of Orthius IV every while. A man of average stature, his greying hair is slicked back, hidden by his white and immaculate officer's cap, a hand clasped behind his back, the other feeling his beard. Footsteps behind him indicated him to turn around and face the younger individual, who upon further inspection, was a private. "Admiral Romaine, we still haven't detected any mining vessel. Are you positive it's out here? We haven't picked up any signals in 3 months. Maybe scavengers have destroyed it and took the remains?" The private confidently asked Romaine. He shook his head, turning back to view the Marinus Nebula. "It is out here, private. A mining ship with such high-end equipment simply does not disappear. We will scour every system nearby if we have to. Send out some shuttles with some troopers to extend our search radius. The moon of Orthius IV could be of interest so send at least two shuttles down their, each with an Armoured Personnel Walker in case we meet resistance from inhabitants." Romaine spoke, shattering the private's confidence as he heard him salute and walk away to pass the orders along...

On the nearby planet of Orthius IV, the planet remains a husk of its former self, drained dry of all its usefulness by 'The Five' but turned into a grand sprawling city wide planet with very little to no greenery, populated mainly by Lessers - the crime ridden working class of the planet. Among a small group of individuals is a young, charismatic and persuasive man, making a living and earning fame through the Underlayers. Evan Davinshawe - a con artist, scammer, a swindler, a fraudster - a man with many names for his type of profession, stands against the wall of a bar, looking around, keeping an eye out for his next victim. Thorne's 'Law Keepers' avoid the area Davinshawe normally cons his victims, making them easier targets. 'Law Keepers' were another bright idea of Thorne and his council - a military police force across the territory of the Avalon Corporation that mainly targets Lessers and sometimes members of the Accepted. Lessers are worked to the bone and until they drop, used by the Uppers as tools and slaves - not workers or people. Clever loopholes allow the Corporation to pay wages they see fit such as laying Lessers barely anything, the Accepted a "normal" wage and themselves majority of the profits and wages. One such loophole that many Lessers have either chosen or unwillingly fallen into is a 'Permanent Lifetime Contract' meaning that the Corporation owns everything they have - even the individual - under the basis that towards the end of their life, them and their family will recieve all the wages they've worked for in their life in one huge payment. Evan felt bad for stealing from people as unfortunate in life as him but if he didn't, he wouldn't be making a living and would have to work in the 'Butchery'...

Peter Thorne sits at his impressive desk, turned to face the window behind him, showing a view of the urban jungle that he made. Many buildings were impressive as only few had in-built orbital elevators but none were as impressive as the Avalon Galactic Central Headquarters. A building of sheer size reconstructed by Thorne himself to be a fortress, company headquarters and orbital elevator all in one. Hands clasped behind his back, asmiring his own reflection in the glass. His slicked back black hair complemented his all black sleak suit and neatly trimmed beard - perfection. After Dr. Avalon went missing, things have been going perfectly for Thorne and his new galactic megacorp empire with the social classes being reinforced, no way of anyone in a class below from working their way up. The sliding of the autodoors to his office could be heard as footsteps got closer and closet before stopping, a rather course voice speaking up. "Mr. Thorne..." Peter faced the individual adressing him - Dr. George Havers. He combed his chesnut hair left with his hand before addressing Thorne, putting both hands in his lab ckat pockets. "Mr. Thorne, I have come here to ask for your permission to conduct an experiment. The Armoured Personnel Walkers that our forces currently use can be controlled by a voluntary pilot. If it wasn't controlled by a voluntary pilot, I believe that the suit can continue fighting. That's why I would like to run an experiment to see if pilots can have any physical or mental connection with their suits..." Dr. Havers asked Thorne, menacingly, an evil grimace on his face. "Yes, yes, do whatever you need to, Dr. Havers. Anything like that can help the compamy amd its research..." Thorne commentsz dismisisng George. Dr. Havers leaves tbe room as wuickly as he came in, keaving without a second thought as Thorne gazes at his solidated power...

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