Flash Mob and Flash Flood (Open)

It was a swarthy face that greeted the detective, clambering out of the manhole with a boyish grin. He seemed frightened to the core, but masking it with a persona of amusement and confusion. The man clutched his hardhat and shook his head.

"Completely flooded. No way it's not the same in the rest of Queens."

Detective Zhao swirled her coffee and looked down and then to the ruined fire hydrant, gushing water down the street, and completely ruining her crime scene. Now she had next to nothing and a backed up toilet at home.

"This happened just four hours ago," she said to her partner. Ten minutes afterward, the earthquake and fires began, triangulated half a mile from each other, five in total. With her gun drawn, she surveyed all vantage points as she knelt for balance. Every honed intuitive cell in her body screamed it was a set up or a kind of terrorist attack at the timing, and yet the scale of all of it seemed completely unnatural. She eyed a peculiar dog with a kevlar vest eyeing them back. Looked like a K-9 unit, but no definite markings. The dog eventually walked away and disappeared.

The flooding worsened, quickly hurting any emergency vehicles en route, and blowing a zephyr of fear through the minds of New Yorkers, threatening them with a need for evacuation.

Dakota dove deep, searching for any anomalies in the sewer, holding an emergency flare underwater. The most he could find was a large cloud of sea water bubbling up from somewhere. But what was the connection between that, the fires, and the strange people waiting calmly in ankle deep water throughout the city, as if nothing was happening?

Then, he realized something. If nothing added up in terms of subterranean activity, due to the fact that there was no seismological disasters happening in the rest of New York, and if there was no apparent issues with the sea level and sea pressure from beneath... what if it was in the sky?

The air seemed extremely thin, as if some energy had entered it, similar to the charge of air before a heavy thunderstorm. That was when security alarms sounded from a warehouse. A truck had crashed straight through its doors, clearly outfitted for the flooding. The flooding had seemed to conveniently stop as well. Well-armored and well-armored men opened fire from within and quickly ex-filed with a package. Dakota was getting all of it from his own intel and was rushing towards the street as best as he could, astounded by what had happened in the spanse of only three hours