The House of White Lace, Early Morning

Alexander Chronos VI INT: 19

He watch the street grow crowded again, the NOVA troops on paraded before exiting the club. A moment later, they are entering it, the crowd more hushed in awe, unaware the masked warriors have already failed. Meanwhile, officers are interviewing witnesses. None of them stand out without listening in. Chronos will have their reports on his desk tomorrow anyway. The cops and ambuklances flee the scene, leaving embarrassed businessmen and half-naked women in the streets. There is a large man attempting to organize them. Possible management? Chronos can see some sort of gas leaking from the club now. Shortly thereafter, they 'return' to the building. And then the street is silent again.

Then Chronos sees him. T-shirt and jeans. Perfect physique. Duffel bag. Nowhere to be seen in the 'earlier' crowd. He bribes the guard, and then approaches the guard, carefully studying the camera.

Bingo.

Chronos soon finds himself on the subway, his quarry lost in the crowds. It takes a bit of 'rewind and pause', but he manages to claim a cramped spot in the same car as his prey. The ride last only a few seconds, and then the man enters the tram at Grassrow South. Eventually, he drops off the bag behind a diner, before going in to finish his coffee.

A thin man retrieves the bag, vanishes down a sewer, before reappearing and approaching the mercenary inside. In the clear light of the diner, Chronos can spend eternity studying the stranger's face.

Totenkopf INT: 24

The Texan arms dealer. Colt...? No, Magnum. Works out of Starcrown. Identity unknown, but not a major player. The Master of Time can't help but note his ability to retrieve the items so hastily. Possible stash already nearby in preparation? A minor detail. Eventually, Deathstar enters the diner and walks backwards to an old apartment building labeled Olympus Estates. A quick inspection of the mail box reveals the owner's name to be a William Wintergreen. Uhrmacher, having never even heard his own real name spoken in centuries, has no reason to believe this person is alive, if they ever even existed. Upstairs, he finds himself in front of three apartment doors, watching the stranger exit one.

Chronos manages to find a moment where the door is open wide enough for him to slip through. Moments like this are always a risk. If he should accidentally bump into the man, he risks disturbing the crucial chain of events that lead him here. It was not the most radical twist the time traveler might be responsible for. He had concievably wiped out billions of potential lives by orchestrating his own rise, by altering the patterns that had bound their forefathers.

The room was very sparse. If not for the bed and fridge, Chronos might think this was merely a workstation. Deathstar was chatting backwards on his phone. Beside him is a set of papers he occasionally looks at.

Dear Mr. Ryker,

A Mr Harlan Slade (picture enclosed) needs to be disposed of. You are like familiar with this man, who is often connected with the trafficking of women, drugs, and weapons.

It has been forseen that you may percieve his demise as possible lack of future revenue, so contained in this letter is a key to a certain lockbox as the First Bank of Ambrosia. In the lockbox should be approximately $600,000 dollars in untraceable bills. I hope this assist in offsetting any reservations a potential or even past employer.

He will be attending a private meeting at the House of White Lace. We don't know who the other party will be, but have no reason to believe he is anyone of consequence, and is thus considered acceptable collateral damage, along with any you deem an aobstacle to your objective.

The letter is signed with what appears to be the Greek symbol Alpha.

The envelope contains the floorplans of the House of White Lace, and a pair of complementary tickets under false names. (It is interesting to note that Deathstar eschewed these.) A room has been circled in red marker, and a time has been scribbled beside it.

What's most striking is the estimated opposition. Harlan Slade was expected to only have one bodyguard with him, and a baseline human at that. Slade himself was a former boxer with multiple suspected homicides, but hardly a threat for one such as 'Mr. Ryker'. (The name means nothing to Chronos.)

The merc eventually finds himself back downstairs, placing the papers back in the mail slot. Another moment and Chronos meets the culprit. A little white boy in overalls, at most ten, withdraws the package from the slot, and exits the building. He crosses the street, then the next, where he meets a young blonde woman in a blouse and blue jeans, standing next to the nicest car on the street. Her hair is done up in a bun, and her grooming is impeccable. With a smile, she reclaims the package and $50 from the child's hand, and murmurs backwards her instructions.

Alexander Chronos VI: 22

Chronos knows a government vehicle when he sees one. The inside is clean, and the woman's hair is standard grooming for military. She has no lipstick or ear rings, suggesting she is on the clock. She is in excellent physical shape.

Hours of walking later, following the car driving in reverse, Chronos finds himself at the bridge leading to Fort Kirby, a National Guard post that had served as Ambrosia's nerve center during the war, and a center for monitoring wormhole studies before that. On Kirby Isle, named after some great explorer before the 'first' Chronos ever arrived, it served as a supply post these days. It's commander, a Colonel Sam Rogers, had infamously served as supervisor of the Starcrown Heights internment camps fifteen years ago. 'Captain America' had some incredibly lurid murals in Starcrown depicting what would happen should he ever return there.