Welcome to the Omicron Protocol Story Blog, where we’ll periodically reveal and post new stories about the world and its character through a series of blog posts. Through this blog, you’ll get to know the precarious situation that our heroes (and villains) are in, and what they need to do to survive and get out of San Lazaro. You’ll also get background stories that help you understand why your favorite (and most hated) characters are who they are today.
The fog rolled in with remarkable speed. Thug, Sergiy and Flyboy found themselves suddenly surrounded by the ghostly white. They were less than a hundred feet from the drop coordinates.
‘Is this a good thing or a bad thing?’ asked Thug.
‘If anyone else is here, they won’t see us,’ said Flyboy.
‘True,’ said Sergiy. ‘But we won’t see them.’
‘Wait,’ said Flyboy. ‘I hear something.’
‘A drone?’ asked Thug.
‘Maybe.’
Cyborg would have preferred to meet his new allies in person but holographic projection was a good second best. He was in one of his mansion’s three studies, gazing across the room at four lifelike, full-size images. After the dramatic events that had transpired at Republic Square, he was glad to at last be face to face – virtually – with Buck and Pai of the Peacemakers and Lucky and Gadget of the Survivalists. Cyborg couldn’t help smiling at the one familiar face.
Danny was in bed with a cold, so Flyboy decided to take up an invitation from a new friend. That friend was Johnny Sinclair-Ariza, also known as Cyborg – an interesting guy Flyboy had met at a gaming convention. Cyborg was a well-known artist with a very rich father and the invitation was to the family mansion in Alturas, a wealthy neighborhood of San Lazaro.
Nix crept through the bushes, only stopping when he had a good view of the CyMS.
He tapped his earlobe to use his coms implant. ‘Bolt, any more of them in the area?’
The Russian sniper was stationed in a nearby church tower, providing overwatch for the operation. Nix had never tried to capture one of these things before and he didn’t want anything to go wrong. As he’d learned with the Rangers, planning and prep were crucial.
This is bizarre.
Lance’s life had taken many strange turns since the crisis that had stranded him in San Lazaro. But this – riding his horse, Charger, around the First National Bank – was perhaps the strangest of them all. After he and his fellow Peacemakers had successfully defended the bank against the Red Dragons, Buck and the others had left him to keep an eye on things.
To: Interested Parties
From: Friends
If you are receiving this transmission, you clearly possess specialist equipment and knowledge. We are exploiting a weakness in the communications blackout surrounding San Lazaro but only have a short window of time to communicate. We are contacting you to present an offer that can benefit both sides. We do not currently wish to identify ourselves but please be assured that our intentions are good. Our aim is to cooperate with individuals and groups such as yourselves and work towards solving this crisis.
Most residents of San Lazaro had no idea that the Cistern Club even existed. It was an exclusive venue which showcased cutting edge music, film, virtual reality and art. The performances and creatives on show were unusual, yet few were as unusual as the venue itself. After the Great San Lazaro Fire of 1903, huge cisterns had been created below the city to store water in the event of another conflagration. Many had since been filled in but the club was housed in an accessible example close to the surface. Converting the underground space into a luxurious club hadn’t been cheap but the owners had wanted something unique.
