The Covenant, Part One.

A crowded raucous bar somewhere in Manhattan, it is dark, noisy and smoky. Music, rock music blares out from a retro fifties jukebox in the corner. The clientele is mostly young and good looking, well dressed and self confident, high denomination bills are flashed at the bar staff and rounds are bought. Several hours after people started arriving and drinking, the music is cut off abruptly and a spotlight illuminates the small stage at one end of the room. Even more suddenly everyone in the room is sober. Editing another editor, now that is impolite.

People are watching the stage now, murmering discontentedly but expectantly.

Then HE steps onto the stage, as if from nowhere, Johnny Stryfe, a typical flashy fake name, to go with the typical flashy expensive clothes favoured by new editors. Most of them are new of course, most of the people in the room are under thirty, and have only had their 'gift' for less than ten years.

"Friends, comrades, welcome to the launch meeting of The Covenant." The mention of comrades had raised a snigger. There was brief scattered applause.

"We know why we're here already of course." Catcalls and yeah yeah get on with it.

"For too long the Sysops have restricted our development, interfered in our right to do what we want, these self appointed, self righteous defenders of humanity have prevented us from fully exploring our destinies. Enough is enough. We need to get their powers for ourselves." This was followed by a few whoops and cheers, semi sarcastic.

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