Kyle dropped his bags in the hotel room and flopped down on the bed.  The room was cheap, but it did the job.  It had been awhile since he’d been in the city and he still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea.  He still had some money, but it wasn’t really about the money.  It was about the game.

He hadn’t participated in tournament play in awhile, and he wondered just how rusty he was.  It couldn’t be helped.  He had needed to get away for a while and think.  He still had a hard time believing what had happened to him… and what he was now capable of doing.  However, he was reminded by every face on the street that avoided his look.  They somehow knew something about him was very wrong.

He sat up on the bed and opened his bags.  He looked over the cards.  To anyone else they would simply appear to be decks of Magic: The Gathering cards.  But as Kyle looked at them, the images moved with life of their own.  He knew this wasn’t the case… the cards only reflected the power that was inside of him.  It was nonetheless disconcerting.

He sat there, lost in the images, until a knock at the door startled him back to reality.

He wasn’t expecting anyone.  He hadn’t even gotten a chance to call room service.

“Who’s there?” he asked.

“Mr. Dunroe, if you are quite through playing with yourself, I would like to speak with you about an offer.”

Kyle sighed and slipped his favorite deck into the special holder he had designed early on in his career.  He wasn't comfortable with the setup; how many times, on TV or in movies, did a mysterious stranger showing up at your door with an "offer" mean good things in your future?  Still, his curiosity was piqued, and he went to see who was waiting on the other side of the door.

"What kind of offer are you talking about?"

As Kyle went to the door, he heard the voice respond to his question with a tone that was both amused and a bit patronizing...

"Well, I should think that it is a far more interesting and profitable use of your particular talents than playing cards, my good man."

The figure smiled slightly as Kyle opened the door.  He was a large black man, well over six and a half feet tall and solidly built.  He would have looked like a prizefighter except for his fine, black silk suit and cane.  He wore dark sunglasses and his long dreadlocks were pulled back in a ponytail.

"Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Mr. Talent.  As you may have surmised by now, I am like you... Gifted, as we say.  I'm sure you have little knowledge of just what that means, given your recent activities.  However, I may be able to provide you with a bit of useful knowledge, as well as certain financial rewards, if you might be willing to help me with a little task."

Kyle shook his head as he tried to dislodge the feeling of unease the situation had built up.

This looks too much like a scene from a low end drama, Kyle thought to himself.

Kyle looked Mr. Talent over carefully, trying to determine just what he wanted, as he figured out what he would say to him.

"It's not about the money, Mr. Talent.  It's about the game itself, a game that has, for better or for worse, become my life.  All I want is to live a normal life, OK?  I don't want anything else."

Kyle didn't notice anything in the stranger's tone that suggested he was being threatened or lied to.

The man called Mr. Talent smiled.

"I understand completely, my boy.  This must all be very unsettling for you."

"I suspected that you might be interested in an even greater game... one that would truly test your particular gifts.  However, perhaps I was mistaken."

"My apologies for the intrusion, but if I may I'll leave you with a bit of advice... You may find that 'normal life' no longer wants you."

With that, the dark stranger bowed slightly with his head and began to turn as if to leave.

Kyle turned away and started to close the door to his room.  He would have turned his back on Mr. Talent if he hadn't known, deep down, that he was right.

I'm going to regret this... Kyle thought to himself as he turned back around.

"Wait.  I might not like it, but I should at least know what I'm neck deep in, and the next person who comes along probably won't be as polite as you are...  So what's this task you seem to think I'm so fitting for?"

The man called Mr. Talent stopped and turned, a smile crossing his face.

"Excellent.  I'm glad that I wasn't mistaken about you.  Unfortunately, all that I may tell you now is that I am offering knowledge and substantial financial rewards in exchange for your assistance in accomplishing a task that suits your particular talents.  I will discuss the details of my proposal tomorrow evening at my offices."

He approached Kyle and handed him a card.  On one side was typed simply "Mr. Talent".  On the reverse side an address had been written with a time: 9:00 PM.

"At that time you will meet the other individuals who will be assisting in this task.  I will explain the requirements and your compensation.  I wish to stress that your complete discretion in this matter is expected."

"If I do not see you tomorrow evening, I will assume you have changed your mind and that our paths will not cross again."

With that, Mr. Talent gave a slight bow with his head, turned and strolled down the hall.

All words, pictures, characters, tiles and just about everything else was created by and is copyright Stephen Rice and Electric Comics, 1996

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