They found themselves at a small, one-storey cottage in the middle of a forest, the only sign of life a Chevy pulled up out front. Tim led them up the door, knocking quietly but firmly.<br/><br/>"Go away," came a gruff voice from within.<br/><br/>"Skyspear, it's Clint, Luna's brother," Tim called out. "We need your help."<br/><br/>"What?" the voice asked, before they heard the sound of a bolt sliding back and the door opened. Stood there was a tall Native American man, wearing a plain blue shirt and jeans with a battered old red cloak thrown over his back. "Clint, come in," he said, moving aside to let them in. The interior resembled a disorganised lumberjack's house.<br/><br/>"Sky, my sister..." Clint started saying, before the man put his hand up.<br/><br/>"The fact I did nothing to help you when you needed it is a thing of great shame for me," Skyspear said as he closed the door. "What could possibly bring you here though?"<br/><br/>"Hero Corps are planning something," Clint replied. "I don't know for certain what, but it's something to do with something called...the Azanti Incident?"<br/><br/>"Heaven help us," Skyspear said as he walked over to get them drinks. "Tell me, what do you two know of why the Corps was first started?"<br/><br/>"I know it started with a hero team," Clint replied. "Beyond that, not a lot."