Deepak Bakshi received a visitor after being moved to a more secure facility the following morning. Sean Pierce and Dafne Mansoor walked into his room after a brief security check.

“Hello, Mr. Bakshi,” Pierce greeted him, “I’m Director Pierce of the IMD and this is Intrepid, our lead field agent. I understand your native language is Hindi. I can speak the language as well as Intrepid here. At the same time, I know you are fluent in English. Which language would you prefer?”

“English is fine,” Bakshi sat up in his bed curiously.

“Perfect. We’re visiting today because we understand you had quite a harrowing experience and we’d like to speak to you about it. Would you mind?”

“It might be good to make sense of things, yes.”

“You’ve been working on our Neutronium projects for some time,” Intrepid began, “I’m sure you have your own theories as to what happened yesterday after the explosion.”

“I was hit with filtered Neutronium energy and without a programmed powerset. As far as I can tell, this has granted me the abilities of… well, a star. Not surprising, I suppose, considering the source of Neutronium but I can now generate heat and I’ve found I can create my own gravitational field.”

“Would you mind showing us?”

Bakshi nodded silently and reached toward the tray of food next to him. Soon, the apple, toast and carton of milk began to rise and rotate slightly around his hand. Pierce and Intrepid watched closely and when he was satisfied, Bakshi allowed the food to be lowered. “I’m not sure what to do with this,” he admitted, “I’m the only survivor of the attack. One minute, I’m working contently and the next, everyone is dead.”

“We’ve located the terrorist responsible and he’ll stand trial for his crimes,” Pierce assured him.

“It’s some small comfort but I’m still left with uncertainties.”

“I served in the Mossad for years,” Intrepid told him, “When I was a younger agent, I was on a mission in Tunisia. We were given poor intel and it resulted in everyone in my unit dying and I was the one exception. I couldn’t make any sense of it then and I still can’t now. I understand the guilt and anger you feel.”

“With all due respect, it goes beyond that,” Bakshi looked at his hand which began to emit an orange glow, “With this power, I have the potential for so much destruction and I’d rather not have it.”

“We’re not sure if we can remove your powers but, if it’s any consolation, we would like to help you test these abilities,” Pierce told him, “If you’re up for the task.”

“Perhaps that would be a wise decision.”

Over the next few weeks, Bakshi stayed in the IMD facilities where he tested his powers alongside Jill Frakes who was normally tasked with helping agents understand their powers before entering the training program. As a scientist, he was aware of his theoretical power limits and soon learned he had a variety of abilities such as firing heat blasts, the ability to fly at high speeds, gravity manipulation, and potentially much more.

Pierce saw the potential of someone with Bakshi’s powers, even if he wasn’t a trained soldier. He spoke to the Interpol General Assembly to request more tubes of Neutronium from the various governments involved in hopes of recreating the process that granted Bakshi his abilities. He was allowed two more tubes and began searching for candidates for his Elite Squad; the idea being that if there was a threat larger than what the standard IMD agents could handle, the Elite Squad would have the power to do so. This was partially inspired by the trouble a lone Iseda priest gave three of his agents. The first candidate was Bakshi himself.

“With your level of power and what we’ve discovered of Neutronium, we might be capable of creating something unique,” he told Bakshi. As he was raised in a Hindu household, he was generally opposed to violence so the idea of becoming a superhero was less than ideal, however, he felt it would be offensive to the men and women who died in the terrorist attack if he didn’t his power them as a way to protect innocent lives. He began training soon after and was given the codename Halo.

IMD agents were trained to work as a single unit in addition to using their powers in concert with their military backgrounds. The result was a highly disciplined team of heroes that could respond to metahuman threats across the globe. In order to achieve this, Sean Pierce hired Anton Varkov as the Division’s training facilitator. As a former super soldier for the KGB, Anton once went by the name of Red Steel, a Soviet super soldier who was given a formula to replicate Rex Robinson’s super strength. He was strong, highly trained and, in the opinion of most IMD agents, utterly terrifying.

“Director Pierce informed me you are very powerful,” Anton crossed his muscular arms across his overly wide chest, “Show me.”

“Here is an example,” Bakshi stood next to a stack of mats and began creating a gravitational field. The mats rose off the floor and began revolving around him. Anton stared, completely unimpressed. “That looks nice but what good is it in a fight?” he grumbled.

“I’m not sure. I’m afraid I have no experience with that sort of thing,” Bakshi apologized.

“Even if Director Pierce didn’t already inform me of that, I could tell,” Anton pressed a finger into his chest, “You are soft like a baby’s ass. Weak. Before I can even teach you to fight, I will have to get you fit. I hope Director Pierce gives me a raise, yes? I have my work cut out for me.”

In the coming months, while Bakshi was undergoing training, Pierce was considering recruiting a US Marine named Casey Hernandez. Hernandez was a highly decorated Marine, much like other members of the IMD. He single handily saved his platoon from an insurgent sneak attack, which showed he had the physical skills and stats to join the team but when undertaking the aptitude test, he didn’t rate high enough to join. Most IMD members excelled in a wide variety of fields as they were either special forces, intelligence officers or otherwise displayed propensity for acquiring necessary skills. Hernandez was, in Pierce’s words, “A strong soldier but still quite ordinary”. He reconsidered him once he received added funding for the Elite Squad.

With Bakshi joining the IMD, there was a precedence for nontraditional members. The concept of the Elite Squad was that they would deal with larger threats and not be called upon to perform undercover operations or crime investigations like other IMD members. “When you have the power of the Sun, there’s little reason for subtlety,” Pierce explained to his Interpol superiors when requesting more Neutronium.

“I’m honored you chose me for the position,” Hernandez told Pierce when they met at his base.

“Some things have changed since we last asked for your submission,” Pierce informed him, “We think you have what it takes to join our Elite Squad.”

“Sir?”

“It’s a bit off the beaten path and the process is a might more dangerous than what we would normally go for. Essentially, we’ll increase the dosage of Neutronium that we normally give by a significant degree. Our lab technicians will explain it better once we get to Lyon but essentially, instead of receiving a designed ability or two, we’ve opted to unleash an entire tube of Neutronium that will give you a great deal of cosmic potential that is quite experimental. If you are still interested in the position, that is.”

Hernandez volunteered all the same as he was used to following orders and giving of himself without question. Even before joining the military, he was known for diligently obeying his parents and older siblings as he was the youngest. While he received average grades in school, he was a favored student if only because he never caused trouble and followed directions. Many told him it was a flaw of his. He rarely had a response as he wasn’t known for pushing back very often. As for the Neutronium process, it involved an entire tube of Neutronium being emptied through a filtration chamber much like Deepak Bakshi but with a reversed polarity in hopes of acquiring a desired outcome. As anticipated, Hernandez was bestowed with the powers of a blackhole and given the codename Shadow Star.

Upon being released from the hospital, he was given some time to study his abilities in a secluded field in the French countryside along with Jill Frakes (AKA Phantama) who was assisting him in discovering his abilities.

“Neutronium essentially rips you apart to the very molecule and recreates you wholesale,” Frakes told him bluntly, “You may find yourself engaging with different aspects of the world you didn’t physically think were possible.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Hernandez began, “While in the hospital, I needed a glass of water that was on a table out of reach, but somehow, the space between me and the table sort of… collapsed.”

“How so?”

“Do you ever watch movies?”

“Not often.”

“Okay,” Hernandez scratched his head, “Well, I’m sure you’ve seen some. It’s like when the camera zooms in on something but the background kinda gets pushed back. It’s called a dolly zoom. Anyway, that’s what happened between me and the table. The space sort of shrank forward and I reached out and took the glass.”

“Show me,” Frakes pointed to a tree in the distance, “I want you to touch that tree.”

Hernandez steadied himself and reached out. He began to concentrate and as he did so, the air rippled slightly but the tree remained in place and Hernandez dropped his hand in defeat. “I have the power to phase. To become intangible,” Frakes explained, “When I was learning my power, I realized quickly, I was trying too hard to pass through walls and other things. I learned that I shouldn’t try to make it happen, rather, I should learn to stop resisting. You have a new body. Explore it.” Hernandez tried again. The tree seemed to move forward slowly. It wasn’t being pulled toward Hernandez, nor was he moving toward it. From Frakes point of view, she saw a pinch in space that allowed him to be within reach of the tree. He touched the bark and let go and suddenly, the distance reverted back to normal with no sign of a disturbance.

“So that’s my power?,” Hernandez asked, “The way Director Pierce talked, I thought there would be… more.”

“Trust me,” Frakes told him, “There’s a lot more.”

Days later, when Hernandez was inducted into the program, Anton Varkov smirked at the Marine standing at attention in front of him while Bakshi lifted weights elsewhere. “Ah, the US Marines,” Anton chuckled, “America’s great meat grinder,” Anton leaned forward, “I want you to attack me. If I put you on your ass, we continue training. If you put me on mine, I let you graduate. Deal?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hernandez opened with a low kick which Anton deflected but the next cross struck his chin. “I didn’t even feel that,” Anton told him as he dipped around the next punch. Hernandez rode the momentum of his swing and spun into an elbow strike to the bridge of Anton’s nose. He smiled, “That one I felt a bit more.” Hernandez ducked around Anton and put him in a sleeper hold. “A little smarter,” Anton reached back, grabbing him by the leg, then threw him onto a mat on the other side of the room.

“You lost,” Anton calmly approached as Hernandez sat up to catch his breath, “Tell me why.”

“You’re too strong, sir.”

“I am stronger than you, yes,” Anton stooped over him, “With your powers, you could put me on my ass in many ways but you decided to punch a super soldier instead. Stupid.”

“Pardon me, sir, but I was not aware you wanted me to use my special abilities.”

“I did not specify. The enemy is not going to give you orders on how to beat them” Anton stood an inch away from his face, “From now on, will you fight like a soldier or fight smart?”

In the coming months, Bakshi and Hernandez tried their best to pass Anton’s tests with varying degrees of success.

“I’m barely able to maintain the muscle mass Varkov wants,” Bakshi lamented while the two ate in the cafeteria, “That’s hard enough to do on a vegetarian diet… but fighting? I have only been in one fight my entire life?”

“And how did that go?,” Hernandez asked.

“Another boy stole my kickball at recess… he kept it.”

“Shit, sorry about that, bro,” Hernandez poked at his meal, “For me, I can fight well enough but knowing how to use these powers is tougher than expected. I mean, I barely know what a blackhole is so knowing how to master the power of one is tough.”

“Even astronomers have trouble fully knowing what a blackhole is and they’ve been studying things like that for many years.”

“That doesn’t fill me with much hope.”

“Sorry,” Bakshi apologized, “But having the power of a blackhole is interesting. The theoretical implications are almost endless. You should try to see if you can open wormholes.”

“I don’t know what those are. I hope Varkov doesn’t either. I thought basic training for the Marines was tough but he’s on another level.”

Bronson and Mansoor approached them. “I remember those days,” Bronson sat down next to the two men with a tray of food, “That big scary Russian man knows how to break down even the most well-trained soldiers in the world. Training in the RAF is no walk in the park as the Americans say but with him, I felt like a cadet again.”

“Pierce knew what he was doing when he brought him to the IMD,” Mansoor explained, “When you graduate from training, you’ll appreciate Varkov’s methods.”

“I’m still wondering what’s out there that can possibly require this much power and training,” Bakshi explained, “I have the power of a star and Hernandez has the power of a black hole. Why should we have another member? What sort of beast is out there that can take that much?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve understood over the years,” Mansoor explained, “It’s that no matter what dangers you’ve faced, there’s always a larger threat.”

****

In Sweden, scientists worked diligently on a large collider that took up half a gymnasium-sized lab. The concept of the Nowhere Place had been hotly debated for almost a century; a dimension of subconscious thought where the laws of physics didn’t apply. The Swedish science team had found more evidence to suggest the existence of the Nowhere Place and were committed to fully discovering it and in doing so, understanding the nature of the universe and the human psyche that much better. On the other side of the dimensional doorway they were close to inadvertently opening, an androgynous being floated in the ether with no thought of its own but still containing immense power. The creature would be later dubbed the Surrealist and it would be arriving on the Earthly plane shortly.