4th Announcement

The Organization · #1

12:00 - 48 hours after the game's beginning. That meant two days had passed already, leaving the subjects with only one more to go. Would one of them make it even further? Or would they all die before their time was up?

In the next 24 hours, everything was going to end.

----

Down the darkened halls the good doctor stepped. He walked with a feverish pace, determined to find the one responsible for Khalid's escape. They were meant to be treating him, testing his body to find out the cause of the delay in his awakening, trying to help him. After all, the boy was one of them, gifted. He had an ability, just like them; just like Cavery himself. In some perverse way, he considered the boy to be an adopted son of sorts - his power a particular fascination.

Who else could claim that they had cheated death as many times as he? The boy could walk through a battlefield and step out on the other side with little more than a ringing in his ears. That was a true gift, a talent coveted by the world and all who lived in it. They might lie, and tell their friends that they wouldn't like to live forever, but everyone knew the truth. Who wouldn't want to be immortal? Really? To Cavery, the mere thought of a life everlasting was enough to send him wild. He'd never hurt the boy to release these secrets, but knowing that the only one with the key to his dream was now fated to die like those other, lesser, children... it was too much.

Now he wandered through the dark, searching for the only ones who could help him retrieve the boy safely, without disrupting their experiment. The room he sought after, found deep within the bowels of the base, with the most locks binding it shut; the one room only a few of their members knew about, and even fewer had even entered. Approaching the doors, he slipped off his glove and pressed his palm against the cold light of the scanner on the wall beside them. He felt the energy press up against his skin, sharp and tingling, then wash away with a loud and sudden beep.

Opening up with a grinding screech, the doors spread apart, letting the cool air gush out around his body. The leather he wore kept him warm, and after a quick adjustment of his mask to reaffirm its tightness, he invited himself in.

Once inside, the entrance sealed itself back up, and the doctor was left to observe a sight he hadn't witnessed in an age. From where he stood, he could see the entire room spread out before him - almost large enough to be considered not a room, but a warehouse, like a containment facility. And since this place was situated beneath the very island they occupied, the only light therein was harsh and artificial, with red bulbs glowing in every corner to remind him that this place wasn't meant for idle visitors and clusters of computer screens shone brightly at every turn.

Tightening his glove as he slipped it back over his hand, he headed over to one of the many monitors that were lined up across the wall to his right. There were readings of vital signs, and unmanned screens displaying satellite footage of the main island, where those children played with their new-found powers like the very babies that they were. If they weren't here to further their cause, he might have felt a tinge of sympathy for them, but as it was, there was only one person he was remotely worried about. Glancing about the room again, he watched as the few people there - high-level scientists, so wrapped up in their work they didn't even notice him enter - went about their business, as the click-clacking of keyboards and steady beats of heart-rates went on interrupted.

Although he tried not to look, his eyes kept slipping back to one part of the room in particular; one of the few things he regretted inventing. In the very center of the room, accompanied by a handful of men in white coats who would observe and read it, sat an unsettling white dome. Made of many metals and full of many wires, which snaked throughout the room and tripped many an unlucky foot, it rested, unopposed, breathing in the life around it and the sounds of the men outside. To stare at it for this long, like he was doing now, was never a good thing. It often sent people mad, especially if they had no idea what lay within.

It was alright though; Cavery knew. He knew because, yes, he invented it, and planned it all out, but he also knew what sat inside... and why.

The doctors called them the Fates.

He called them monsters.

----

"Gooood afternoon, folks!"

Coffee in one hand, Apple Danish in the other - it was that time again.

"So hey, you know what's great about you guys? No, no, not your crazy crazy bloodthirst you nuts! No! I love that you guys can get so emotional after hearing me on the radio! I'm honoured! I'm touched! And maybe if I wasn't so pepped up on caffeine, I'd shed a little tear or two! Sniff! And so- mmph, oh man, you guys, this is like, the best Danish- mmmm - you guys really gotta try these when you get out 'cause they're freakin' awesome. Er, where was... oh! Right! Hah! Can't believe I got so wrapped up in Danish! Seriously though, this is like the best thing to have for lunch - can anyone say "deeee-lish"~?"

Taking a sip of her coffee, and returning the glare sent to her by her colleagues, she gave a sweet giggle and then continued.

"Alrighty-roo, that's enough sugar for one day. Let's get on with this!"

Hair bouncing with every breath, she chucked the last of her drink in the trashcan by her feet, followed by the napkin she held her pastry in, and settled down to work. Well... as settled as Lizzie could get.

"Soooo, who's up first? Okay, I've got a good one. What do you call a guy with no skin? Anyone? No? Johnny Marsh! Hahaha! What? What do you- well I know he had skin, but like- no, he- SHUT UP, CARL. THIS IS WHY NOBODY REMEMBERED YOUR BIRTHDAY."

Slumped down in his chair, the sound technician turned back to his desk, defeated, taking down the tiny party hat from his head.

"Great, now I'm lost. Umm, oh, right, here we go. The girl who took him down was the mighty Supergirl herself, Ms. Holly Chapman, everybody! Let's hear it for for her guys, woo! Yeah! Dead! And, er, so on. I guess Chris Richardson died last or something, I dunno. I think I need more coffee. Starting to flag like a biiitch.

Oh, and as for dangerzones, The Shack, Radio Tower, The Cove and Cable Car Station are off-limits, so like, don't go near them. You know the drill by now, right? Good, okay, that means I can go make some more mixed-tapes, yay~!"

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(OOC: Three days to leave dangerzones, as per usual.)