The cargo hold opened- and nothing happened. The entire area was quiet... too quiet.<br/>Jason and Russel made their way forward, their suits glistening under the hangar lights. The only noise was the plane's engines powering down. Jason, his suit finally conforming to his frame, motioned for Russel to breach the main hall door. They were large, sturdy doors, made from ancient fossilized trees. Yet, with Russel's strength amplified 1000x over with the mecha-suit he controlled, it was as easy as snapping driftwood.<br/><br/>The doors flew out into the main hall, and Jason sighed out of relief. It was untouched. The red satin carpet stretched down the expansive hall, with the chandeliers and limestone pillars lining the walls and high ceiling of the "Hall of Winter's", or as he liked to call it, the "Wind Tunnel"; simply because the hall was so huge, that it had it's own draft.<br/><br/>As the trio cautiously made their way forward, the silence in the hall was deafening. It was as if any sound they made, including their own breathing, was sucked up by the ancient corridor.<br/><br/>Suddenly, as the three came to the first corner, a silver flash came from their left. Russel readied his mini-guns, and Jason immediately tensed his muscles, in case he needed to move. The silver flash, now taking the form of a smoke grenade, belched out an explosive cloud of lung-disabling gas.<br/><br/>"Masks-now!!" Jason roared.<br/><br/>His bio-suit immediately complied, forming a plastic mouthpiece around his jaw and bridge of his nose. Russel donned his old WWII-style gas mask, that actually doubled as a re-breather. The smoke swirled in front of them like an angry storm cloud, filling the radius of the hall they were in.<br/><br/>"The vents should take care of this!" Russel murmured through his two-way radio.<br/><br/>Jason quickly replied, "Give the old girl some time to warm up, she hasn't been in practice for some time now."<br/><br/>As the smoke started to dissipate, a strange-looking individual ran screaming a war cry through the smoke, wielding a polished shillelagh at the surprised Jason.<br/><br/>Jason suddenly smiled and ran towards the wrinkly old man, his bio-suit powering down as he ran. The scraggly codger slowly lowered his weapon, slowing to a stop. As Jason neared him, the fogy grinned ear-to-ear, tears of joy streaming down his face.<br/>Jason slowed to a stop just in front of this stranger, looking him over.<br/><br/>"Is that you,<span style="font-style: italic">seanathair</span>? After all this time, could it really be you?" Jason's lower lip trembled with emotion.<br/><br/>"Aye, laddie. Your granddaddy's here, m'boy." a withered grin spread once again over his aged cheeks.<br/><br/>Jason immediately wrapped up the spindly<span style="font-style: italic">seanathair</span>into his muscular arms, holding the ragged and smelly hermit against his chest. Murphy Winters then wrapped two thin arms around his<span style="font-style: italic">garmhac</span>; and they both cried as if they were children.