He lay on the purple, hexagonal tiled floor, stunned from the force he impacted the ground with. Pained groans and winces escaped the teen's lips as he struggled to push himself from the floor. Once he reached a kneeling position, he observed the architecture that surrounded him. It was unlike anything he had seen before and his jaw gaped in astonishment.

"What on Earth is… oh wait." He paused as he remembered what happened for him to end up here in the first place.

"I don't think I'm on Earth anymore, not in a place like this…" his pale hand reached towards the artificially lighted ground and ice sickles ran along its smooth surface.

Footsteps echoed behind him. He listened closely and anxiously as other sounds were made prominent. Quivered arrows shuffled, and the boy had discerned two separate paces with one more rapid than the other, but never surpassing.

The pale teen turned back and forth swiftly and his eyes darted about the hexagonal room for some kind of cover. His dark brown, borderline black eyes settled on what appeared to be a very tall storage crate, or what resembled one at least.

With as little noise as he could manage, the boy dashed behind the crate and paced his breath such as to where it could only be heard if your ear were right next to his lips.

The echoed steps became clearly heard as they entered the room and then abruptly ended. A high pitched feminine voice spoke up towards whoever else was with them,

"Are you sure someone is here, Valla?" The voice chirped. "I'm not seeing anything."

The deeper, accented voice of a woman replied, "Sight is not the only thing with which you see, Chromie. For example, smell," Valla sniffed the air, "Can tell you many things your eyes cannot."

The woman let loose a bolt from her hand crossbow, skimming the flank of the towering crate and piercing the technological wall.

Witnessing eyes became intense globes.

"Show yourself!" She demanded.

Seeing no point in staying silent, the boy replied:

"Like hell! You'll shoot me!"

The higher pitched voice spoke: "We're not gonna shoot you, we just needed to know if someone was there. You can show yourself, it's okay!" Chromie made a gesture to Valla for her to lower her crossbows. The demon hunter did so, albeit reluctantly.

The teen cautiously stepped out from the cover of the crate, keeping a hawk's gaze on Valla, who would not be out of place as a Van Helsing companion, as he did. His brow and his short, charcoal hair had been slightly dampened. As he advanced from his cover, the boy's breathing pattern became heavy and shaky. Noticing his unease, the disguised bronze dragon moved a couple paces towards him and stretched her arm out as far as she could towards him, presenting herself in a friendly and yet, despite her size, slightly imposing manner.

"I'm Chromie, and this is Valla," said the outgoing 'gnome'. "What's your name?"

Although slightly calmed by the kindness of the Bronze, he warily took the her tiny hand he replied: "Michael. Michael Davidson."

The interrogative voice of the demon hunter came from behind Chromie: "How did you get in here? This is one of the most secure areas in the entire HQ. I want answers."

"What is this room? Why is it so secure?" Michael inquired. "It just looks like some storage room."

"That's none of YOUR concern." Valla retorted. "I'm asking the questions. How did you get here?" She interrogated again, clearly losing her patience.

"I don't even really know what happened myself. I was violently pulled through what I believed to be a portal that just abruptly showed up in the middle of my home."

Chromie raised her eyebrows. "That's different."

"What do you mean, 'different'?"

"None of the other Heroes here were violently pulled into a portal. They were just teleported here with no kind of struggle. Your case is strange, to say the least."

With as much sarcasm as could be managed, Michael replied: "Great. Absolutely fantastic. It's good to know the universe wants to kill me."

To Michael and Chromie's surprise, Valla spoke up. "That's not the case, I guarantee it. No, there's another reason behind the violence of this summoning. Perhaps that's why we weren't notified this time."

"Yeah," Chromie mused. "The Speakers have been silent recently. I don't think they even talk to the Hosts anymore."

"The Speakers? The Hosts?" Michael inquired. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Speakers are the ones who notify us of new arrivals and watch over and expand on the Nexus," Chromie clarified. "And the Hosts are the ones who… well, host the tournament matches in their respective battlegrounds."

"So, what exactly is the Nexus?"

Chromie outstretched her arms as far as she could. "You're standing in it. This room and beyond is the Nexus."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit vague. How large is it?"

The Bronze put on an attitude that could only be described as sassy asking, "Are you gonna keep asking questions or do you want to see it for yourself?"

"No," Valla objected. "He needs to be contained until we can confirm he is not dangerous. Letting him loose in the Nexus is not an option."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong deary," Chromie cheekily countered. "I'm not letting him loose. He'll be under my supervision, and you know what I can do should he become hostile."

Eyes expanding, a wave of unease ran throughout Michael's body, taking a step back from the now incredibly unsettling 'gnome.'

"The question isn't if you CAN keep him under control. It's if you WILL that concerns me."

"That will remain to be seen I suppose." Chromie moves for the doorway and motioned for Michael to follow her. "Ready to see the Nexus?"

"Yeah," Michael said uneasily. "Sure…"

Michael warily followed Chromie out of the room, leaving Valla behind. Standing alone, the demon hunter spoke to herself.

"I swear, Chromie. That'll be the end of you someday."

She turned to exit the room, but looked behind herself. "Your secrets will be spilled, one way or another."