"Cole's original Amp." Jen muttered, slowly walking around the exhibit. "That's interesting."
The amp was held by a plain stone statue of Cole, who held it in a mighty pose, pointing it toward the air. Several snaking grey wires wrapped around the statue, allowing the Amp electricity and causing the occasional spark. It gave the Amp am authentic feeling to it, as if Cole was actually feeding it electricity through his palm. Cole. The mighty savior of Empire City and New Marais. He was their patron saint. The conduit who stopped the beast, saving the world. The Amp was worn and dusty from little use. The blue electricity that flowed between the prongs crackled and lighted up the entire exhibit.
Awed children and conduits stood by the exhibit, looking up at the stone Cole and listening to old audio logs from his phone of exchanges between him and other conduits. "Runs on a.. um.. radioactive energy? No, no, a blast shard." Jen muttered, examining every inch of the Amp. "That would be useful. You're not gonna find a blast shard jogging in the park, so.." Nearby, Jen got a couple of odd looks from wary parents, who tried to shield their children from her. She still wore her Starbucks uniform, and her cap. She still had disheveled hair. She just screamed, Hey, look at me! Not exactly discrete.
Jen walked over to the exhibit and looked at what was on the screen. Multiple videos were playing from different moments in Cole's life. Most were shaky camera films. They were glimpses of what Cole was doing, video taped by someone with their smartphone. Most were just Cole jumping across buildings, electricity running down his hands and a blue glow in his eyes. Some were of him fighting off the corrupted government. She grinned, looking at the screen. The screen flashed a bright white, and something appeared on the screen. It was a tan scarab mask, with green slits. She almost leaped, taking some steps back.
"Yeah, nope. Let's see what else this place has got." She said, trying to brush it off. That must've just been a technical mistake, or she was too drunk for her own good. Jen hurried off."
"Another Curdon Cay prisoner sir." The Syndicate announced, pointing at his screen. There were two whole computer monitors dedicated to the Conduit Wing. One showed Jen looking at the Amp exhibit in the Conduit Wing, and showing her nearly jumping out of her skin at the Syndicate screen.
"Jen Darude. Sand girl. 8 years in Curdon Cay." The leader read off of the file in his hands. He flipped through the extensive pages. There were pictures, documents, photos. "Augustine didn't really care for her. A couple experiments, some basic torture, not much. Got the least of the blow."
"Hey, Johnson. I need something here. You know where the Reapers are?" The leader said, tapping on Johnson's shoulder. Johnson sighed. The Syndicate were supposed to be about equality. They all wore the same uniform, the same masks, the same suits. Not much equality with this one.
"I have three possible buildings. Reapers were seen going in and out of these three buildings multiple times." Johnson announced, bringing three possible buildings onto the screen. There were a worn down concrete building, a new brick building, and a sleek, modern clean building. They were all located in the nearby district.
"Send some detonators." The leader said. "To all three. I know we have a whole stock of them." Johnson looked up at him from his spinning chair. "All three, sir?" There are actually people in some-" The leader looked down, the green slits glowing. "All three. I want to send the troops in a couple of minutes."