47 hours. Samuel Spectre sat in his chair, and pondered. Four Seven. Forty Seven hours would have broken a lesser man, but lesser men were not the Phantom Skull. Samuel used that time to recollect the events that had led him to this plane ride...

He had been investigating the Curious Case of the Copper Caper. A rogue costumed scientist had been slowly stealing the world's supply of copper, for what purpose, Samuel did not know. He was getting ready to put the sting on the Copper Crook before someone, something, interrupted him. An agent of Puriel. He asked his question, and handed off the phone. Samuel remembered asking the man 'Who are you? How can I trust you?'. The man was gone. Only then did Samuel realize that he couldn't; that was just how the game was played.

And play the game he would. He finally stood up, stretching as he did so. He flexed his phantom muscle, something he could not feel with his body, but instead with his [i]soul[/i]. His body turned wispy as he faded into his spectral form and then rematerialized in place. He reached up and grabbed his carry on, a large briefcase that held his trench coat. His guns were stored safely in the suit case he had brought with, he had figured it wasn't worth sneaking them in with him.

He walked to the exit of the plane, gasping in pain as the light hit his eyes. He stepped forward and tripped, stumbling out of the plane and onto the ground, screaming all the way. First impressions were everything. Let the masses think less of him, that gave him the edge.