Land of the Lonely

[Jacksoπ Flεtchεr]

    What kind of dummy goes to Antarctica? What was he even doing here? These were the sorts of questions Jack was asking himself as he slogged through the snow, hurrying toward the research center and trying to ignore just how much colder the chopper behind him was making things, whipping up the snow like it was. He was bundled up tighter than he'd ever been. Normally, the young man was fine with being a little cold. But antarctic cold was nothing to sneeze at, so he'd taken the proper precautions. A hoodie just wasn't gonna cut it, naturally.

    Along with a few others, Jack had been invited to this facility. No one else on the helicopter had been too particularly talkative, so far, and he hadn't pressed. Why, he was entirely sure, just yet. But the offer he'd been given had been tempting enough to pique his interest and drag him all the way there. Naturally, he was ready to take off the moment things started looking like a trap. An escort of armed guards came outside to, well, escort himself and a few others inside.

    They all walked straight through the security area and Jack was somewhat surprised that no one checked them for weapons, even though there was clearly a designated area for that sort of thing. Finally, after levels of security and winding through blank, minimalist halls, they were led into a conference room. At the head of the table sat a young man with messy blonde hair and piercing, pale green eyes that seemed almost reptilian. Jack found a seat somewhere at the other end, not too far away but decidedly towards the back. Green eyes stood and, with a small smile that looked like more of a smirk, greeted them.

    "Welcome," He began, his glance passing over each of them before settling on Jack. "And thank you for coming. I know it was something of an inconvenience for you to visit this facility, but I trust that when you leave here today, you will all find the considerable journey to have been worth it. Before we begin, are there any questions?"