"Lyall. We've got two more bodies. Same MO as the last three."

Steve tugs off his helmet as he approaches the desk. His gear looks like it's taken a beating already but it's still tactical gear. Slung across his back is the crystalline shield a certain Mobian magus fashioned for him. It's definitely already seen quite a lot of use getting him to this safehouse.

"No trace of the culprits but one of the fallen was one of our scouts. All the gear's gone, including her radio." Something about the reports isn't sitting well with Steve, either. The noises they're describing. It feels familiar somehow but he hasn't had the time or an epiphany as to what is putting him off about all of this. What he does know is that people are dying and that's taking priority right now.