Collide Gamer Chapter 97 – An unimportant town called Franklin two hours a

If Springfield was a small city then Franklin was a big town. This ant that despite being relatively small it at least had its own train station, supermarket and other facilities. Almost everything soone needed in order to never leave their place of birth. “Why would you choose to build an organization here?” John asked.

Victoria kept looking out of the window as she answered, “You will understand in a bit.”

The four of them left the train. The Gar in a plain black Dota 2 shirt and blue jeans, Rave in a skimpy top and yoga pants (her disguise still on for the mont), Victoria in her rocker outfit with a tallica shirt and lastly Aclysia still wearing 2B’s outfit. They were a weird bunch to say the least. John had an outside perspective of that, in the form of the verdin following them closely. SecretBlonde had not made the existence of the bird public for whatever reason. It worked out for him.

Victoria took the lead and guided them to the edge of the town. Interestingly, they moved through Illusion Barriers instead of real space. John made sure to keep the verdin hidden. He didn’t want the bird to be revealed as what it really was and the connection would be rather easy to draw if it showed up in an Illusion Barrier. He also used the bird to use Observe on everybody around, none of whom were affiliated with the Bloodfallen. Just random people going about their day.

They went through a field of wheat and finally arrived at an old bunker entrance. A cold war remnant, most likely. The entrance was a sowhat rusty, run-down steel door set into a massive grey, graffiti covered, cent block which in turn was half buried under a hill of dirt. “This is our base.” She explained, as they were pulled into the actual Bloodfallen barrier.

The run-down exterior of the bunker entrance was reinvigorated. The graffiti was removed, the steel appeared polished. ‘So the Illusion Barrier was made when the bunker was still new? The Bloodfallen built this bunker out in the middle of nowhere, for what purpose? To hide?’ John considered.

Victoria knocked twice on the door. A little slit of the solid steel slid aside, revealing a pair of eyes. “State your na and purpose,” a rumbling voice demanded.

“Victoria Beloozero. I return with the Gar, John Newman and his guild,” the Russian sniper explained.

In a series of clacking noises, keys being turned, bars being moved, chains unhooked, the door was unlocked and finally swung open to the inside. The man holding it was a goliath, even bigger than Travolta had been, with a strongman body, milky white skin, dark eyes and a bald shaven head.