There are lines of worry etched in this man's face. He seems to not know where he is, or what he is doing here in Meridian. Sorrounding him is the faint odor of ozone. In his low, unique voice, he speaks slowly and with purpose.

Through the calm you can see in his eyes the turmoil of years in distress, the distant flash of thousands of storms.

All he has is a pair of gauntlets and his clothes, they seem to be out of place with modern clothes and armor...

It is a mystery who or what this man is..