((CLOSED TO STORM VERITAS))

21 year old Max Dirks sat on the edge of a rotating bed at a brothel, or at least at the monks' best attempt to recreate one. The criminal was clad in a pair of heart boxers, as was appropriate for the establishment. Magically recreated women would periodically walk into the room, but Dirks quickly dismissed them. His target was a man formerly of many vices, soured by responsibility in the wake of the apocalypse and his adventures with Shinsou van Osiris. The criminal was unsure if Storm would show. His message, sent VIA courier to the Brotherhood, merely state, "Want to fight, bitch? - Max Dirks." It wasn't the most respectful invitation, but Storm Veritas was apparently a man of honor these days. The message probably would be passed through a network of spies to verify its legitimacy. With so many eyes viewing the message, could the old castigar turn down the invitation? Dirks certainly hoped not.

Storm Veritas was central to his plan. Perhaps more central than any other single player, and to test his theory, Dirks had the monks set up an elaborate arena. Every bit of this area was laced with power generators. Dirks anticipated the electric sensitive, and aptly named, Storm, would pick up on this right away. The result, of course, would be an amplification of Storm's power beyond anything he'd experienced.