Downtown San Diego... 8:30 PM

Chelsea entered her hotel room, threw her jacket on her bed, and kicked off her black flats on her way to closing the window shades.

She just came off a flight from UCLA for a gymnastics tournament this weekend near Sea World. The tournament was early in the morning and she decided to get some rest instead of hanging with her fellow gymnasts.

With the blinds closed and a sense of privacy achieved in her one-bed room, she started to shed her casual baggy clothes. As her shirt escaped her torso and her sweatpants were dragged off her legs, the perky asian gave a sigh of relief. Even though the flight was short it was always a hassle to go through the security screenings at the airport.

With only her lingerie left, she strolled over to the bathroom to get herself ready to freshen up for the night. Walking up to the bathroom mirror, she flexed her biceps that showed off her tone arms that had been sculpted from years of gymnastics. Ever since middle school, she was on the gymnastics team and was known to come up top in every tournament. But, because of her rigorous schedule, she could never find time to go on dates or socialize with anyone except her teammates. But that would change this year for Chelsea; with her new roommate she planned to come out of her shell more often and actually enjoy life as a college kid for a change.

After posing in the mirror, she tore off whatever she had on left and resigned herself to a hot shower to decompress.

An undisclosed Military Base in San Diego... 8:48 PM

A team of scientists in white robes were working away at their computer terminals as they were looking through a memo about a shipment for a topic secret project.

Since the events on the East Coast earlier in the year, the government was interested in designing a new type of attire that would not only augment a person's physical abilities but also provide additional functions that would render typical weapons redundant. With collaboration from Mr. Load, the government was almost ready to manufacture the next generation of battle suits for the Navy SEALs.

Outside the main research lab, two heavily armed men held a Pelican case in their hands. The Pelican case was decorated with a dozen "DO NOT OPEN" stickers, caution tape and several bolt locks. Inside the case, there was a vacuumed sealed capsule that contained the substance that would eventually be used on these new battle suits; a viscous obsidian liquid that was said to sometimes move on it's own accord.

The armed men entered the lab and placed the Pelican case on the desk of a somewhat sleepy scientist. He looked up at the burly men and signed the waiver that was presented to them. After the paperwork was signed, one of the men handed over a key ring for the locks on the case. They then saluted and left the lab; leaving the scientist with the precious cargo.

He slowly unlocked each dead bolt and removed the "CAUTION" tape that wrapped around the outer casing and lifted the top of the case. Inside, there was a capsule filled with black liquid and a syringe with a orange liquid. From the memo that was passed around today, scientists must handle one of the vials with care; but they didn't mention which.

The scientist carefully picked up the vivid orange syringe and carefully placed it on a tray while he took the black vial and placed it next to the Pelican case. When he closed and tried to put the case away, he accidentally knocked one of the vials to the ground; the one containing the black fluid.

Upon hitting the ground, the vial cracked and a stream of black fluid started to rush out and leak onto the floor. With the remaining energy the substance had, it sought for the nearest air vent to escape out of it's months long containment.

By the time the scientist noticed the cracked vial, almost all of the eight ounces of fluid leaked out and a stream of fluid flowed towards the air vent. Panicking, the scientist rummaged through his drawers and found some flex tape and a pair of surgical gloves.

He applied flex tape to the cracked vial and stopped as much of the remaining ooze from leaking; leaving less than half of the fluid left within the original vial. With the accident "contained", the scientist looked over at the vent and the trail of fluid was no where to be seen.

Realizing that he was at fault, the scientist sat back at his desk and took a pen to the black vial; re-labeling it as two ounces instead of the original eight.

It would be the last time the majority of the jet-black fluid would be seen at the naval base.

Chelsea's hotel room... 9 PM

After she got dressed in her nighties, Chelsea turned off the lights and flopped onto the queen sized bed and started scrolling through her social feed. On top of her feed, she saw posts from her roommate, and some of her school mates back at UCLA. She sighed to herself; if she wasn't competing this weekend she would have joined her roommate at a local party instead.

Yawning to herself, she flipped her phone face down on a nearby dresser and drifted to sleep. Tomorrow, she would need to compete against other gymnasts and also encounter a nice surprise.

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