It was cold. Colder than the annual average. This did not however stop the event from unfolding. The agency consists of many "layers" as one could call them. Or platforms. Platform M-13 being the most advanced, the very top of the food chain, if one would. In M-13 there is a multi-floored complex. What is inside still remains a mystery, as no one has able to penetrate its secrets, and live to tell about it. It is cleverly disguised as a typical office building. Three men dressed in suits walked out of the entrance of the thirty seven floored building. These men did not look like ordinary business man however. The suits, amid the light drizzle mixed with snow, seemed to stay in perfect order. The hair was slicked back, perfectly. They wore dark glasses. They so much resembled the Agents that were defeated by the One. However they were not. They were a new breed of program. Written in the beginning of the AI era, in which the world was brought to its knees, by its own creations. These programs have learned to evolve, and think on their own. They were almost perfect. "This seems to be a troublesome situation" said the man on the right, looking with his cold, soulless eyes, onto the other two. "Indeed, it does" replied the one in the middle, with the same, cold, as if heartless tone of voice. "So we commence with the plan?" asked the one on the right. He however seemed to have a different tone of voice. seemingly more human, yet vague enough not to be. "As it was, it shall be" replied the one in the middle, who appeared to get annoyed by all the questions. "Now we have to pay a little visit to Him" Both the men at the sides nodded their heads almost immediately. As one man raised his right hand to mouth, to whistle, his suit jacket moved back. In the jacket, on the left side, is seen a holstered Glock. Almost immediately after the man issued a ear piercing whistle, a black Lincoln rolled up. The Lincoln just like the three men seemed to be out of this world. . . .