#jcd2187

「  … Yes. 」

-- Sometime Before the Events of DX1 -- The room was smaller than he remembered. Then again, it had been nigh fifteen to twenty years since the man in black and white had last visited the walled institution tucked away between snowy-white mountain peaks. Change, even in the smallest of things, was bound to happen. Such was the nature of time. Dull grey eyes quickly took inventory of the room, a habit the man had picked up over years of agitation and mistrust. Where there once was a line of chairs now stood a row of iron shelves, burdened with wire-spewing servers and various electronics that hummed and clicked with use. Holographs shimmered next to these digital sentinels. Their displays cast haunting, blue glows throughout the room. Like ghosts, a pair of technicians drifted between them. They spoke of something, no doubt important, but the visitor could not be bothered with their studious banter. His attention slid towards the room beyond. The simulation room on the other side of the lab’s thick, one-way glass was vast arena of setups - a small village inside a small warehouse. Traps and puzzles laid throughout the square footage, and a number of mechanized targets both hostile and benign were set to leap out as participants progressed through the narrow streets. It was to be a test of skill, ingenuity, and reflexes. The goal? To retrieve a suitcase of sensitive documents from the midst of chaotic territory, and deliver them to a location to be given through radio. There was a time limit of thirty minutes, though it had been an unspoken rule that only twenty and less was to be considered passing. “Mr. Simons?” came a strong, feminine voice from behind his person. “The trial you wanted to see will start soon. Do you have any questions before we begin?” Clasping his hands behind his back the suited man looks over his shoulder towards the facility overseer, his expression stern. “Colonel. I have asked to remain anonymous during my visits. Again, I request that you refrain from using my name even in the presence of staff personnel.” The officer’s mouth twitched as a mixture of irritation, bashfulness, and surprise crossed over their weathered face, but ultimately they gave a respectful nod. “Of course...” Clearing their throat they directed the focus back to the testing that was about to begin below. “As you know the field was originally made to also test the unity of a squad, but seeing how this particular subject is...special, a single-runner will be judged today.” Simon’s lips tighten as he gives a slow nod. His eyes return to the floor below, sweeping through the maze of corridors until he finds the gate from which she would enter. JC Denton. Sister to the Primary. “They have shown remarkable skill in the past, sir,” they continue. “We hope she demonstrates such for you today and every day henceforward.” Without pomp, without circumstance, the man answers permissively. “Then let it begin.”