1. Completely red.
It was seven forty when the street exploded.
2. Faiza Hussain is propped up against an overturned bus. The London street around her is in ruins, bodies strewn about, the dead and the dying. Faiza appears relatively unharmed; a few cuts and bruises but nothing obviously life threatening. She's holding her hand to her head, as though ensuring it's still there.
It was seven forty-three when I woke up in Hell with something buzzing in my ear.
No, not buzzing.
3. Close-up of Faiza's ear, blood dripping from a wound just above it. There's a small communication-device planted there; her connection to MI-13.
4. From Faiza's perspective. A young child is trapped under debris, unconscious. We can't tell if the child is dead or alive, but the outlook doesn't look good.
We need you!
We need Excalibur, damn it!
5. Faiza dashes towards the child. Unbeknownst to her, towering above, is a Sentinel, its arm raised, fingers splayed, ready to fire another blast at the London street. Targeting who? Why? If only we had another page...
And these people need a doctor.
Faiza, you don't understand.
We need y -