"Typhon. Remember." As he speaks, I look around me at the dark, dirty room, and spy screens in the background. They're showing landscape. We're in a ship.

"You died. Everyone died. I was the only one out." I continue my search and see a rack of weapons to my left.

"That's what they told you? And look all you want, those are mine."

"Yes, yes it is. Then the planet was destroyed. You died on it, or, the real Stryker. I don't know you. I-"

"Shhh. Shush, Jason. You'll see soon enough."

"See what?"

"The truth. how they lied to you, to me, to everyone."

"There were no lies. You're lyin-"

"Shh."

"STOP LYING TO M-" A piece of tape is slapped over my mouth. It has to be industrial strength, because I can't seem to lick it off.

"It will all make sense soon."

With that, a sharp, calculated blow is delivered to the right side of my head, and I fall into darkness again. I wake in an alley in Angel City, the one I walk through every day. The grocer is just around the corner, and a duffel bag is beside me. In it, all of my gear, and something new. I instantly notice a strange node attached to my armor, and a note pinned to it with a magnet. I grasp the note, pulling it from under the magnet, and hold it up to read. "Activated with a gesture. Helmet is programmed to play tutorial."  Hmm, this is strange. Why would Stryk- Why would the guy impersonating my comrade give me more things to use to kill him? Anyway, I put on the helmet, and as if on cue, (cause it probably was,) an instructional video starts playing. A blue-ish tinted video starts playing on my screen.

"You've aqcuired IMC prototype tech! The tech in question is the PS-6 Rapid Translocation Device, RTD, or much more simply, the Phase Blink device. Previously, because of the dangers of the phase dimension, only Simulacrum pilots were capable of travel there. However, studies show that simply wearing a HAZMAT suit, or one of similar insulation, will block out approximately 45% percent of the radiation, keeping human pilots alive! Activate it by simply thinking as if you were flexing muscles on top of your head. The node will detect this neural traffic and activate! Thank you for testing the RTD Blink device! The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation is not responsible for any death, dismemberment, radiation poisoning, death of loved ones, damage to personal property, death by Titan misidentification, or impromptu dance battles caused by this device."

"Cool." I say to myself. Just now noticing that I'm half naked, I pull on my armor and test out the upgrades. It takes me a while to get the hang of it, but once I do, I'm addicted to the rush of teleporting across rooftops. Thank god it's nighttime.

"I'm here! Now I'm here! Now I'm there!"

I stop myself mid air and land on the ground, remembering the fact that I still have work to do, mainly killing the Stryker wannabe, and saving Elena. Or... could he be real? No, I was the only one off the planet. He died on Typhon. He had to have died on Typhon. Just like the others. 

I make my way back to my home, blinking all the while. The door's been bolted closed, and police tape spread across it. The entire police force is on somebody's payroll, however, so nobody's doing any investigating. I push through it, and look across my apartment. They just took the bodies, cleaned the carpet, and left the rest of the place perfectly untouched. 

"Well, there's a good news-bad news situation."

I go through to my bedroom, and place my hand on the bottom of a shelf. After a few seconds, the wall behind my bed folds down and reveals countless weapons on racks. A Havok rifle, a Kraber, a Wingman, there it is. My custom Flatline, built with carbon fiber instead of wood. Light, durable as ever, and so, so deadly. A bloody grin, the signature grin all of my gear is adorned with, painted where the barrel peeks out of the gun's long, frontheavy form. I replaced the last four inches of barrel with an internal suppressor, and slung it across my back, in place of my R-97. The submachine gun is placed on the rack where the Flatline was, and I place my hand on the same hidden sensor, closing the secret armory. I call Kevin through my helmet.

Kevin answers, bewildered. "Holy shit, you're alive."

"Of course I am. You expected me to die?"

"I mean, kinda?"

"Asshat," I chuckle "No, I'm still kicking."

"Well, I guess I have to wait to find that armory I know you have in your place."

"Yes, yes you will."

"I'll find it, dammit. You're not getting all that heat you're always packing from between the walls."

"Mabye I am," I say, grinning at the wall the armory hides behind, "but there's still the issue of Elena and that guy."

"You caught a glimpse of his face?"

"I did. Bastard looks just like one of the guys I served with on Typhon, but he can't be. That guy's dead."

"Quite the pickle you've got yourself in."

"I do know he's got some of my shit on his ship, and I can track my clothes. I woke up without them on."

"Track your clothes? What kind of paranoid madman are you?"

"The type that's got a tracker on that asshole's ship."

"Ooh, confident, are we? Well, give me the thing's ID, so I can get one of my guys to tap into it. I can give you live updates on it."

"No, he might get to you and your guys. I'm going it alone."

"Jace, why are you-"

"My callsign's Joker."