<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong><span class="bbc_u">OMBRE STAGING FACILITY ∎ Clearance Level Green                               </span></strong></span><br/></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">"Name? ... I see." A woman jotted down some notes on her clipboard. A hanging lamp cast a dim beam over the central table, shrouding everything else in deep shadow. Only her lips, faintly illuminated by the weakly swaying light, could be seen as she asked her next question. "Age? ... Uh-huh." She nodded and the scratching of her HB pencil filled the air again. The woman turned to a man standing beside the table, in the shadows. In front of him was a large tape recorder with two spools. "Are we rolling?"<br/><br/><em>Click. Whirr.</em> The two spools began to turn; two little whirlpools of endless black tape spun over and over. The woman pulled a few forms from an unmarked manila envelope and set them on the table. "Fill these out. You already completed your tests right?"<br/></span></span><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Simulation Report</div><div class="spoiler_body"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/AlTeregoSeparator.png)</td></tr><tr><td></td><td><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;"><strong>Report from Agent Training</strong>: This test was designed to measure subject's abilities in a simulated Blue-level environment. Test was conducted over 180 minutes subjective time under standard conditions. Contents of this report are for clearance level Green and up.<br/><br/>        <em>Force</em>: Agents use Force to interact with the City. It encompasses all physical activity, with Personalities, Hostiles, Agents, as well as the environment itself.<br/><br/>        <em>Instinct</em>: Instinct defines how the Agent perceives the City. It covers perception, reaction, and intuition and is used primarily when relying on judgement and experience to gauge a situation.<br/><br/>        <em>Access</em>: Access defines the Agent's ability to requisition material and information from Control. It represents resourcefulness and 'pull' within the organization. It also describes the Agent's familiarity with the City, and their ability to enter and leave it.<br/><br/>Agent Total Score: 9.<br/>Force∎ __<br/>Instinct∎ __<br/>Access∎ __<br/><br/>        <strong>Assessment</strong>: Agent displayed basic levels of ability (score of minimum 2) in all areas. In addition, Agent has shown special aptitude in two skills of nine, detailed below. <br/><br/>        <strong>Skill Proficiency</strong>: <br/>        <em>Force</em><br/>                Aggression: Kill, destroy, damage, assault.<br/>                Athletics: Movement; chase and escape.<br/>                Strategy: Incapacitate, subdue, capture, process.<br/><br/>        <em>Instinct</em><br/>                Investigation: Search scenes, analyze evidence, discover key items.<br/>                Communication: Interrogation, persuasion and subterfuge.<br/>                Intuition: Sensing an ambush or general 'wrongness,' following hunches.<br/><br/>        <em>Access</em><br/>                Logistics: Acquisition of weapons and other equipment from Control.<br/>                Intelligence: Retrieval of information from Control.<br/>                Navigation: Information about the City; ejecting from the City.<br/><br/><strong>Recommendation from A.T.</strong> - promote to Blue level clearance and clear for drop.</span><br/></td></tr><tr><td></td><td></td><td>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/AlTeregoSeparator.png)</td></tr></tbody></table></div></div></div><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">The woman looked over the completed forms then tucked everything away neatly back in the envelope. <em>Click.</em> The tape slowed to a halt. A door opened in the back, letting white light pour into the darkened room. <br/><br/>"Follow me."<br/><br/>She led the agent to a large freight elevator and stepped inside, the click-clack of her high heels drowned out only by the humming of a nearby generator. She tapped a button and a metal gate shut behind them; a swipe of her access card sent the elevator lurching down into the depths of the facility, passing light after light in the concrete shaft, before creaking to a halt. <br/><br/></span></span><div align="center">(https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/45222b2d-fab6-4dd8-b54d-f68ea85d35ba/d6ikatn-a374f560-3d23-4f85-8fc8-32c4d9eddba6.jpg/v1/fill/w_1032,h_774,q_70,strp/top_secret_research_facility_ii_by_svalbard_in_winter_d6ikatn-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0xMjAwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNDUyMjJiMmQtZmFiNi00ZGQ4LWI1NGQtZjY4ZWE4NWQzNWJhXC9kNmlrYXRuLWEzNzRmNTYwLTNkMjMtNGY4NS04ZmM4LTMyYzRkOWVkZGJhNi5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTYwMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.hJjCmN00O8bCJcO-W-4mq3hKxQiIDVW2a2stTT8wZpY)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">They weaved through a series of long hallways lined with countless doorways until finally arriving at a blue door. "Inside. The others are waiting." She swiped a blue keycard on an access panel by the door and walked away, the sound of her high heels growing increasingly distant before fading out. <br/><br/></span></span><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;"><span class="bbc_u">"The White Room"</span></span></span></div><br/><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/59/51/a8/5951a84ecd4c4b66edfc222d98da14ad.jpg)</div><br/><div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f2/b1/07/f2b107b7d660d5bf46bd42af5a6e8528.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Agent Singer<br/>Clearance Level Blue<br/>Resting HR: 65 BPM</span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">A blonde woman turned to look over her shoulder as the door swung open. She had her arms above her head, and her shirt bunched up around her shoulders. A fitting black bra peeked out from underneath, just above the toned lines of her bare back. She gave the newcomers a once-over, then finished changing, slipping into a long white dress shirt that left the bottoms of her panties exposed when she stretched. <br/><br/>An older man's voice came from the corner. "Like what you see boys?" He was lying down on one of the four beds with a book covering his face. He snapped it shut as the door closed, sitting up to look at the new additions. "She don't talk much. Comes from the East. Hell of a sight to look at though." <br/><br/>The man tucked his book under a pillow and stood up, walking across the room to extend his hand. A set of loose, silk pajamas hung on his stocky, middle-aged frame. "Name's Sawyer. Welcome to the White Room." The other woman nestled into her corner bed and slipped a blindfold over her eyes. "Oh, her? Beats me. We call her Singer. Girl likes to sing."<br/><br/></span></span><div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d8/b7/03/d8b7032ebcc1fe05c5da7299c651183d.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Senior Agent Sawyer<br/>Clearance Level Deep Blue<br/>Resting HR: 75 BPM<br/><br/></span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">Sawyer turned and walked back to his bed, sitting on the edge. "You've heard of the City, right? No?" The man shook his head, muttering something under his breath. "Smart-looking boys like you. Read the papers I'm sure. Folks talking 'bout the death of crime.. cleaning up the streets, without a single bullet fired or officer down." Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck. "People are happier. Streets are clean and quiet. The world is coming to order at last, and it ain't thanks to jackbooted thugs and tanks and police, that's for damn sure. Just a few people lying down in a sealed room, wires and electrodes hooked up to their chests and temples. Bunch of smart folk watching monitors and shiny medical equipment, talking constantly into their throat-mikes."<br/><br/>The man stretched and gazed off into nowhere in particular, then smiled. "But those are the other guys. The Company. Cutting out the diseased parts of society, like a cancer. Noble cause," he said, shrugging, "But it don't pay. That's why you boys came to Ombre, isn't that right?"<br/><br/>Singer turned onto her side, propping her head up on the pillow. She peeled her blindfold off, giving the fresh meat her own appraisal. At some moments, she looked like she could understand Sawyer's rant, but looked equally as disinterested in the next. <br/><br/>"Well, whatever floats your boat. Me though? I'm looking to retire with a nice little chunk. Get me a beautiful boat. That's what floats my boat. Anyway, the City. What happens is this: you go to sleep in this world. You wake up someplace else. To be exact, you're locked down into the City - like a.. a city of the mind. Because it's far too dangerous to just muck around inside someone's head, the City acts like a border town that links everyone's heads. And everyone exists inside the City. Everyone you've met. People you've never known, people that don't exist."<br/><br/>He cleared his throat.<br/><br/>"The City is beautiful in the way a sad girl can be beautiful... gray and lonely and lovely. It's always raining and the sun never shines in the City. The cold wind whips against the brick and stone walls of a bunch of buildings. Everything seems so much larger and deeper and darker. Personalities -- that's what we call the folk down there -- drift in and out like ghosts. They materialize in the corner of your eye and when you turn to focus in on them, they sharpen like slides under a microscope. Everything comes into detail and every mote of dust is like another world. Well.." Sawyer said, flashing a grin. "You'll see."<br/><br/>A knock on the door ended Sawyer's talk. A voice, female, called from outside. 'Senior Agent Sawyer, dive into Blue-level in fifteen.'<br/><br/>He nodded and tucked himself back into bed as the door closed again. Singer did the same, slipping the black cloth back over her eyes. "Best get comfy, boys." Sawyer said. "See you on the other side."<br/><br/>Ten minutes later, a team clad in medical equipment from head to toe entered the room. They wheeled in all kinds of shiny devices and monitoring stuff, hooking up the wires to each of the agents. The rhythmic beeping of the EKGs filled the room, mixing with the indistinct, overlapping conversations. Somebody approaches your bed -- their face hidden behind a black visor -- and withdraws a syringe from a case. They inject its contents into the IV bag by the bedside, and just before your vision fades to black, you hear: "Good night Agent. Sweet dreams."<br/><br/></span></span><div align="center"><span class="bbc_u">                             </span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong>MISSION #0: THE MILK RUN</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">Part One: "Checking in and calling home."</span></span></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">Agent One awoke alone, just as he might have any other morning. Only apparently, he had been run over by a truck last night. Every muscle, sinew and fiber in his body ached, and a constant sledgehammering pain pounded his head. When the blurry vision cleared, he found himself in something smooth and hard, yet slippery and curved at the sides. Porcelain. The sound of running water filled the air, which reeked of dampness. Outside, the distant rolling of thunder and rain pattering against the roof could be heard. There were no windows in the cramped box; merely a naked, flickering lightbulb that cast a dull, sterile white light over the grimy tiles lining the room. <br/><br/><em>Contact your team. Make an Access roll by rolling d6s equivalent to your Access stat. All rolls in the City are compared against a target of 11.</em><br/><br/></span></span><div align="center"><span class="bbc_u">                             </span></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: monospace;">Agent Two opened his eyes to a sliver of grey sky, wedged between two tall buildings. The clouds themselves opened up to dump a torrent of cold rain on his face, the heavy drops pelting the floor around him like somebody was dumping a sack of pebbles. His arms and legs had been removed and replaced with jello, it felt like, and the asphalt beneath him moved like the roil of a wave made of rubber. The scent of wet concrete and donuts filled the air, mixing with a few undesirable scents of unknown origin. The alleyway was dark, and littered with wooden crates - each of them was simply labeled 'box'.<br/><br/><em>Contact your team. Make an Access roll by rolling d6s equivalent to your Access stat. All rolls in the City are compared against a target of 11.</em><br/></span></span>