The Division: Shattered Command

Prologue

I was an agent during the harrowing days of the great Money Flu pandemic, when the fabric of society unraveled, plunging New York and countless other cities into chaos. My activation came amidst the storm, a silent call to arms that linked my fate in the town of New York. I remember the moment vividly, standing shoulder to shoulder with another agent, Faye Lau—sharp, resourceful, and unyielding. While she deftly managed the pulse of our operations from the shadows, I was the one navigating the treacherous streets, pushing through the heart of the turmoil. Together, we fought tooth and nail to bring the city back from the brink, to wrestle it from the grip of the Money Flu that had turned the metropolis into a battleground. But as the dust settled and the city began to heal, my mission was far from over. The Strategic Homeland Division, S.H.D., had other plans for me. A new war was brewing, and this time, the battlefield was Washington D.C. In the ruins of the capital, I was handed my next assignment, along with a crew that would soon become more than just a team—they would become my family. Commanding Agent David, the stalwart leader kept us focused and driven. Agent Foxbound, our medic, whose calm demeanor and quick thinking saved us more times than I can count. Agent Hound, the sharpshooter, whose deadly precision made her both feared and revered. And finally, Agent Hardcase, our engineer, the brains behind every operation, with a heart as tough as the armor he built. These were the names they chose, the masks they wore as we plunged into the fight to restore D.C. We became a force to be reckoned with, our bond forged in the fires of battle, as we took on the Hyenas, the Outcasts, and the True Sons—merciless factions that had carved up the city, each more ruthless than the last. It wasn't easy. Every step forward was paid in blood, sweat, and the dwindling hope of those who had managed to survive. But after countless skirmishes, desperate alliances, and hard-won victories, we did it. We brought D.C. back from the ashes, returning a semblance of its former glory to the streets. Yet, our work was far from over. Just as we began to think of what might come next, the call came in—an urgent directive from S.H.D. that sent chills down our spines. We were being recalled to New York, but not for a victory lap. A new threat had emerged, more dangerous than any we had faced before, and it was up to us to stop it. This wasn't just another mission. This was a manhunt. And that's where our real story begins.