Prologue: Target
Images flashed across the glowing screen, each lighting the dark room in rapid succession. They came from a variety of sources- security footage, prisoner mugshots, old school pictures, a handful of amateur photos, and even a brief clip from an old advertising video. They varied wildly in quality, but all had one thing in common- all concerned the same person.
Seven figures sat in a semicircle around the viewscreen. They wore identical dark purple robes with gold trip, and their faces were concealed by hoods and cloth masks. The only way to tell any of them from the others was by their height. They sat perfectly quiet and still while the slideshow played, but as it ended one of them leaned forward and seemed to study the last picture intently. "We are certain, then?" he asked- a man's voice.
"Yes," said the figure who sat beside him, also a man. "We have studied our candidates for over a year, and she is the closest to the ideal that we can possibly hope to find. Unless you choose to stall s through more pointless questioning, we are ready to proceed." There was a challenge in the second man's tone.
"Of course not," the first man said, holding up his hands reassuringly. "If the rest of you are agreed, I won't quarrel with you."
"We are agreed," the other six said, speaking in eerie unison. The first man sat back in his chair and fell silent.
"Then it is settled," the second speaker said after his colleague had failed to respond. "I will leave at once, then." He turned and looked over his shoulder, and when he spoke again his tone less arrogant, almost deferential. "With your permission, of course."
The other hooded figures turned to look behind them as well. Immediately past the semicircle of chairs, the room was dominated by a raised platform, and atop it sat another chair. This one was more ornate, almost like a throne, and its occupant sat deep within its shadows. All that could be made out were the bottom portions of a robe like the ones the others wore and the pair of clawlike hands that gripped the chair's armrests.
"Go," the figure said, its voice a woman's, old and wheezing but still carrying a great weight of authority about it. "Go and return swiftly with my prize."
The one who had spoken to her rose fully from his chair and bowed stiffly at the waist. "As you will, Mistress," he said, and without a further word turned and glided from the room. The other six figures and the one who sat on the throne were left looking at the last picture on the slideshow one again- that of a teenaged girl with strange gray skin, glowing eyes with slit pupils, and hair that was styled to resemble horns, a fact that wasn't able to detract from its vivid shade of pink.
Beneath the picture, a name was displayed: JINX.