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2 YEARS PRIOR:

Just across the street from the dingy motel, there was a similarly dilapidated apartment with a blue brick facade. The building was imposing in its height, stretching out 40 floors into the sky and dwarfing any other building in the surrounding blocks. On the 20th floor, at the far east end of the apartment, sat room 2048. From behind the door, clacking and whirring could be heard, along with the mechanical groans of a computer. Inside the cluttered and messy bedroom, a figure sat in the dark. Their face was illuminated by the pale light of the monitor, connected to a beastly beige brick of a computer. Their hair was a silvery white, with a frizzy long style to it. A message appeared in the corner of the computer's screen.

EMAIL:

FROM:

TO: STARMAN@LAZARUS.TEL

A pleasure as always, Starman. I need your help. There is a matter of utmost concern that I think you will find quite fascinating and alarming. Meet me at the Woodrow Mall, Saturday night, 11:30 PM. Sharp.

Anxiously awaiting your arrival,

Selene

A large grin crept up on the face of the person in front of the screen. It was going to be one hell of a weekend.

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