Inside the military base, there was a hanger stationed near the centre, where a figure was currently enjoying a smoke. He was wearing a beast armour chest piece, and indented in white, a clear contrast to the black armour, was the number twelve. The seat he was on was awfully shaky, yet he didn't allow that to disturb him from his cigar.
"It sounds like your guys are having a lot of trouble dealing with a few intruders." Agent 12 complained as he heard the noise in the distance. "No wonder it was so easy to take over your base. If we had the power to do this all along, Pure should have done something about it a long time ago."
