JACE paced the floor in frustration.  The emotion was quite unfamiliar to him.  Usually he could accomplish anything to which he set his mind.  For once, however, even his brilliant intellect seemed insufficient to the task.  Despite his intelligence and his financial resources, he lacked the connections necessary to accomplish his goal. 

He had searched every DNA database on the planet, had scoured the city with his DNA detector on, he had even resorted to scanning warehouses looking for any sign of them, but the people who had kidnapped and tortured him had vanished.  After examining the possibilities, he had determined there were only three possible courses of action left to him.

“And now, it gives me great pleasure to introduce our valedictorian, Adam Finch.”

As the Dean of Archeology announced his name, Adam walked up to the podium with a broad smile on his face.  He barely noticed the heavy robe and hood that signified his doctorate degree.  The small crowd gathered for the graduation ceremony clapped politely as he stepped up to the podium.  Over the noise of the applause he could hear his mother yell his name.  She was waving excitedly from the first row, obviously telling everyone around her that Adam was her son.  As he waved back, he prayed she wasn’t also playing matchmaker.  The last thing he needed right now was another blind date with one of her friend’s daughters.

*** This Story Contains Graphic Violence and May Not Be Suitable For Everyone ***

ooc:  This takes place right after the events in Dear Jonathan.

"Wake up, Doctor." The voice slowly penetrated JACE’s awareness. It was harsh, unnatural; obviously computer generated or masked in some way. As he focused on the voice, he became slowly more aware of his surroundings. The next thing to hit him was pain. A deep aching pain radiated from the back of his head around his entire skull. He groaned and tried to raise his hands to his head, only to find they were tied down.

JACE sat quietly, reading the words on the screen.  To be honest, he had read the words already, he was just staring through the screen now, remembering them.  Normally his perfect memory was a blessing, now it felt more like a curse.  He couldn't stop remembering everything, even if he wanted too.  The letter was burned into his memory forever.

Dear Jonathan,

JACE was annoyed.  A lesser man would be angry, but he had much more control of himself then that.  He flew through the city, following the GPS signal from Ophilia's cell phone.  He had tried to contact her, but she hadn't answered.  Hoping she wasn't passed out in a drunken stupor, he was tracking her down.  The possibility of some kind of psychic or viral attack was too important to wait until morning.  Celeste was somewhat upset, but she understood.  How could she not, he had explained everything very clearly to her before sending the limo to her house.

"Later today, early tomorrow, some time next week, the world began to end."

Raiders have come from other cosms, other realities, to steal Earth's living energy.  The very possibilities of life are at risk.  Portions of our planet have been turned into someplace else.  Even the people of Earth are transformed by the invading realities.  Only a few people, the Storm Knights, can hold onto their reality, weathering the reality storms to defend our planet from the invaders.  Able to manipulate the very possibility energy the raiders have come to steal, the Storm Knights are all that stand between survival and the death of everything.

Jason watched the track team practice, making occasional notes on his clip board.  They were coming up on their first meet and he was trying to get them ready.  Unfortunately it wasn't going as well as he would have liked.  "Come on team, don't start lagging now.  Pick it up a little."  He could tell most of them were putting some effort in their training but, as usual, some of them were just coasting. 

JACE was flying over the city when he heard the police sirens. Intrigued he turned and homed in on them. There, at the First National Bank. A collection of police cars was out front, officers behind the cars with guns drawn. He could faintly hear yelling over a bullhorn as he drew closer. Even as he landed on a nearby roof, he saw media vans from the local television and radio stations pulling up. A smile crossed his face. "Excellent," he murmered.

Jonathon walked into the gymnasium, hiding his displeasure at being here. The room was full of people and noise. Tables were set in neat rows all around the room and various displays were on top of the tables. Above the door was a large paper banner stating:

Jonathon hummed softly to himself as he checked his appearance in the mirror. Frowning slightly at his tie, he made subtle adjustment to the image generator, tightening the lines on the tie and smoothing out wrinkles. He made a mental note to tone down the realism subroutine next time.

The fact that the tuxedo was holographic didn't detract from how well it looked on him. He had hired a personal image consultant years ago and never regretted it. Everything he wore and carried was carefully crafted to enhance his appearance and to look good on him.