<div align="center">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/Mansion_zpsf561f316.png)</div><br/>"Welcome to your new home for the next four weeks!" announces the bright, cheery, TV-friendly voice of Chad Thorpe, the blonde-haired and blue-eyed celebrity that will be the host of The Hero Project. He exudes that typical TV host presence; trying to be friendly and casual, but it's all too well-practiced to be genuine. He's the kind of celeb that seems to be famous for being famous and hosting things. A lot of that seems to be going around these days. Little sphere-shaped camera drones have been hovering around all of you since the moment you got in line to try out for The Hero Project and you don't doubt that there are even more cameras hidden inside and around the property on which you're standing.<br/><br/>You remember the tryouts vividly, it was all so surreal. Thousands came from across the country, lining outside the TV studio. Hundreds went in hopeful and hundreds came back out with their dreams shattered. From the initial mass of thousands, a hundred emerged with the right to move on. With the initial interviews over, you all displayed your talents as best you could. The next cut took it from one hundred to fifty and tension mounted. All remaining fifty contestants, you remember, had then to take part in a simulation. You strutted your stuff in a Holo Room (built and provided by Diable Electronics, of course) and the show provided you all with a scenario in which to test your mettle. Some of you fought a PI gone bad, some of you rescued civilians from disaster. Whatever you had to do, only twenty of you made it. The twenty people standing on the front lawn of this gorgeous manor right now. You are one of them. You tingle with excitement as you look down at the marble slab beside the walkway that leads up to the front door. The shiny surface has on it the latest in holotype and displays words in blue that seem to pop just off the surface of the slab. It displays the name of every contestant still in The Hero Project.<br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>[Shockwave]     [Muerta]      [Rodeo]      [Maximum]     [The Fury]</strong></div><br/><div align="center"><strong>[High Voltage]   [Paladin]       [Wraith]       [The Todd]         [Patriot]</strong></div><br/><div align="center"><strong>[Merry Prankster]    [Thorn]     [Dragon's Ire]    [Lash]    [Totenkreuz]</strong></div><br/><div align="center"><strong>[Rho]     [The Green Gale]   [Downpour]     [Siren]     [Blue Magic]</strong></div><br/>You find your name and smile. You look past Chad at the sprawling mansion behind him, his droning fading into the background as you marvel at the enormous, four-story structure that will be your living space for the next month. It contains all the luxuries one would ever want; a full gym, indoor and outdoor pools, bedrooms and bathrooms for every contestant, a massive living area, a game room, a lounge with a bar, and it's own Holo Room (tm) and training center. You remember that you'll be doing two events a week, at the very least. Games for the show that will influence who stays and who goes. On top of that, you remember, that if there are any real emergency situations, you will be called upon to go out under the command of one of the judges and your performance will be graded. But hell, you figure if worse comes to worse, at least you got to spend a week here.<br/><br/>"...so I wish you all the best of luck! Before you settle in, though, let me re-introduce our judges for the folks at home!" Chad's voice snaps you out of your reverie. He waves at the marble slab. The names suddenly scramble, then fade, shifting to a wide display screen.<br/><br/><em>"She has never missed a shot,"</em>drones the narrator in a deep voice, over the image of a buxom, stern-faced woman with white hair and brown eyes. The woman is running through gunfire, seemingly fearless. She slides behind cover and in one smooth movement, draws a handgun, fires three shots, takes out three attack robots, then moves to another piece of cover just as what she'd been ducking behind explodes under laser fire.<em>"She is fearless, limitless, peerless,"</em>continues the narrator, as the white-haired woman empties her weapon into five more targets; five shots and five drones destroyed. What appears to be a mad scientist in a labcoat with an enormous cranium and mechanical arms charges at her, nearly frothing with visible rage. He raises his metal limbs to strike and the woman slips just under his grasp, then executes a brutal combination of blows that seem to hit the scientist so hard you swear you can hear bones break.<em>"She. Is. Recoil."</em>The video fades. A little cheesy, but it got the point across and you have no doubt the people at home loved it.<br/><br/>The next begins on a black screen. It hangs just long enough to get you wondering if something is broken, when all of a sudden you see a pair of golden eyes in the gloom. They appear suddenly and with an accompanying musical sting, just the kind to get a jump scare out of you.<em>"From hell's heart she comes..."</em>whispers the narrator, voice light and mysterious this time. A flame appears on the screen, illuminating the face of a punkish-looking young woman. Her lips lift in a wide grin, cigarette dangling between. The flame appears to be in her palm. She lifts it, lights the cigarette, then blows the smoke in your face.<em>"...a wild, uncontrollable flame."</em>says the narrator, the shadows suddenly withdrawing into the woman, pooling at her feet, becoming her own shadow. Behind her lies a field of destruction. Flames, rubble, scrap parts from what used to be robotic drones and giant mecha.<em>"Hellfire."</em>says the narrator. The woman flicks her cigarette at the camera just as the screen fades again. You roll your eyes but grin a little.<br/><br/>The third opens on a bank robbery somewhere, with masked thugs sticking up a teller and people cowering in the background. Heroic music begins to swell as the narrator pipes up, full of pride and cheer,<em> "She needs no introduction!"</em>he says, as a blur darts through the lobby and one of the robbers is suddenly downed by a punch you could barely even see.<em>"She's America's favorite daughter!"</em>says the narrator. On the screen, the second robber fires wildly at the savior; a brown-haired, athletic-looking woman clad in gladiatorial armor. She lifts her armored left arm and the bullets ping harmlessly off the gleaming surface. The robber panics, tosses his gun ineffectually at the woman. It bounces off her abdomen and clatters to the ground sadly. She lifts the thug by his shirt collar, turns, and throws him with such force that he flies straight out of the bank and through the open door of a waiting police car, landing on the back seat. People in the bank cheer, the music reaches it's climax.<em>"HercuLina!"</em>exclaims the narrator, with barely repressed joy. That intro made Recoil's seem dour by comparison.<br/><br/>"Wow, what wonderful footage! I'm just blown away!" chimes Chad, faking every word down to the syllable. "Contestants, those will be your judges for The Hero Project! Try your best to impress them, as six of you will be working for them some day! Fingers crossed!" He mugs for the camera. "Now, we do have a fourth judge, but that's a secret to be revealed later! For now, go on in, bring your belongings inside and grab a room! Rest up, because tomorrow... the games begin!" Chad grins at you all and waves. As soon as the camera turns off him, he departs with hardly a word. The house, for the moment, is yours.