The words tumble out in a rush, my thoughts racing faster than my tongue can keep up. "I think the fourth figure you're looking for is someone I encountered a few months back, right around the time the Fly and Jump drugs first started showing up on the streets." I pause, taking a steadying breath as I feel the weight of every eye in the room settling on me.

"His name is Elias, and he calls himself 'Chimera'. He's not one of the Phreaks, not really, but he seems to have some kind of... connection with them." I hazard a glance towards Crossroads, noting the subtle shift of acknowledgment in his stance.

"From what I've been able to piece together, Elias is some kind of... I don't know, amalgamation. He can take the physical traits and abilities of animals and mix-and-match them into his own body." I see Gossamer's eyes widen at that, while I keep my eyes on my fellow youngins to avoid freaking it in front of a crowd.

"The Phreaks, they're working with him somehow. Or maybe he's working with them - I'm not entirely sure. But what I do know is that they've got some kind of stake in these tainted Jump doses causing all this mayhem." I shrug, a wince of pain rippling through my shoulders as the motion reminds me of my own injuries. "I think Elias is providing them with some kind of avenue to distribute these amped-up Jump variants, while the Phreaks are helping him... I don't know, sow chaos or something? Either way, it seems like the two groups have some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement going on."

I pause, letting my words hang in the air for a heartbeat before continuing. "And then there's this other thing Pumice said to Rampart, about how the Phreaks losing their 'one person with a leash on them' is why they're getting so bold now. I think he was talking about Patches - you know, the old leader of the Phreaks who we got locked up? I don't know, almost a year ago?"

Across the room, I see Multiplex's brow furrowing, the man's lips pursing in a tight frown. "That... tracks, unfortunately," he rumbles, the words like distant thunder. "We've been monitoring Patches' status in the system, and her transfer to a more secure facility was expedited about two months back, around the same time this Fly drug first hit the streets. She's currently in Daedalus."

I see Crossroads and Puppeteer's faces both twitch in some sort of disappointment.

Jamal nods, the motion weary and resigned. "Which means that Deathgirl and the rest of the Phreaks are now operating without the stabilizing influence of their former leader. And with this new... alliance with this Chimera character you've described, they seem to have both the motivation and the resources to take their operations to a truly catastrophic level."

The room erupts into a fresh wave of hushed murmuring, the tension in the air ratcheting up several notches. Beside me, I can feel Rampart tense, his jaw working in a silent grind of frustration. Gossamer fidgets nervously, one hand worrying the hem of her costume, while Puppeteer's features have settled into a mask of grim determination. I reach my hand out on instinct, expecting to find Gale's hand for me. It's not there. She's on the other side of the jumble of Young Defenders.

Crossroads, however, simply shakes his head. "That still doesn't explain why , though," he murmurs, the words barely audible over the swell of voices. "Why are the Phreaks willing to work with Elias, or get into the drug trade at all? What's their endgame here?"

I shrug again, hissing out a soft breath as the movement aggravates the raw wounds crisscrossing my back and sides. "I wish I knew," I admit, offering him an apologetic half-smile. "But if I had to take a guess... I'd say spite, plain and simple. Elias is looking to make the insurance companies that kept screwing him over pay, and the Phreaks..." I trail off, letting my gaze sweep across the room.

Spindle looks at me and nods.

"They're kids, man. Kids who've been dealt a bad hand and are pissed off about it. And now they've got this Daisy girl calling the shots, someone who's probably even more angry and unbalanced than the rest of them put together." I shake my head, teeth worrying at my lower lip as I fight to find the right words. "I think they're just looking to create as much chaos and havoc as they possibly can, to tear the whole rotten system down around our ears."

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the quiet murmur of conversation, every hero and functionary present seeming to wrestle with the sheer weight and implications of my words. Jamal sighs, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Well... that certainly paints a rather grim picture," he mutters, the words laced with weariness. "And I'm afraid your assessment aligns rather disturbingly with what our own intelligence teams have been able to uncover." He levels a pointed look in my direction. "Which begs the question - how precisely did you come by this information, Bloodhound?"

I feel my cheeks heat up at the implication, a sheepish grimace creasing my features. "Uh... well, you see, the thing is..." I trail off, one hand coming up to rub at the nape of my neck in a nervous gesture. "A few months back, I may have... gotten a little too involved in trying to track down the source of this new Fly drug that was popping up. And in the process, I... kind of ended up tangling with this Elias guy?"

This is the best explanation I'm willing to give them.

The silence that follows is palpable, a thousand unsaid recriminations hanging in the air. I brace myself for the inevitable storm, already wincing in anticipation of Jamal's exasperated tirade or Multiplex's scathing rebuke or Bulwark's warm dressing-down. But to my surprise, the older man simply sighs, shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

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"Well, at least your tendency for reckless heroics has proven useful this time, I suppose," he mutters, the words accompanied by a rueful shake of his head. "Still, I can't say I'm thrilled to hear you've been running around the streets playing vigilante. We've had enough trouble on our hands without you adding to the chaos."

"I know, I know," I mumble, casting a sheepish glance around the room. "But in my defense, I wasn't exactly expecting to get caught up in a supervillain conspiracy when I started looking into Fly. Cut me a little slack here."

"I would be surprised if there was not a supervillain conspiracy," Bulwark mumbles, just loud enough to draw a peal of chuckles from the crowd.

"If I can add," Spindle says, raising one long, bony hand to the heavens. The room turns to him, and he goes beet red. "Hi, Spindle here. Uh, I used to work with the Phreaks. You know, in a past life, is that what they say? And uh... Daisy is fucking bonkers. Am I allowed to say that?"

Fury Forge stifles a laugh.

Spindle seems to take that as encouragement. "I would... I would not at all be surprised if this was fueled by spite. There's a lot of built up bad blood there. That's why I left. Um. That's all."

Multiplex clears his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a gunshot. "Thank you very much, Spindle. And, Bloodhound, your information has also proven invaluable. And in light of the severity of this situation..." He pauses, fixing me with a considering look. "I think it's high time you shared the rest of what you know."

I blink, stunned momentarily by the unexpected absence of condemnation. "Uh... well, to be honest, that's pretty much the gist of it!" I admit, shrugging gingerly. "I mean, I've got a few more details here and there, but nothing too concrete or actionable, you know? Just a lot of speculation and half-baked theories."

Jamal nods, the motion slow and thoughtful. "Be that as it may, any insight you can provide would be most appreciated. We're going to need every advantage we can get if we're to have any hope of nipping this crisis in the bud before it spirals completely out of control."

I hesitate, glancing around at the assembled heroes. Rampart offers me an encouraging nod, his features softening into a faint, lopsided grin. Blink reaches out, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. With a steadying breath, I turn back to face the Defenders' leadership.

"Okay, well... the way I see it, the Phreaks have kind of shifted gears, you know?" I begin, wincing as my rib cage protests the motion. "They started out small-time, just petty crimes and vandalism, right? But then they got a taste for...well, bigger things, I guess, when the Kingdom, remember those guys? Paid them off to cause chaos on South Street. And now, with Daisy calling the shots and Elias giving them access to these amped-up Jump variants, they're looking to really turn the screws on the rest of the city."

I pause, worrying at my lower lip as I search for the right words. "I think their end goal is just pure, unadulterated destruction, to be honest. Daisy and the rest of the Phreaks, they're... well, they're kids, man. Angry, disenfranchised kids who feel like the whole world's stacked against them. And now they've got this thing with Elias, someone who's also pissed off at the system, and they're just looking to burn it all down."

Jamal's brow furrows at that, the older man's features creasing in a pensive frown. "And these 'tainted' Jump variants...?" He prompts, tone deceptively mild.

I nod, wincing as the motion sends a fresh stab of pain lancing through my skull. "That's where Elias comes in, I think. He's the one providing the Phreaks with these souped-up Jump doses, doses that turn people into absolute nightmares." I shudder, the memory of Adam Wallace's agonized throes still etched into my mind's eye. "I think he's using the Phreaks as a distribution network, a way to get these mutated Jump variants out onto the streets and wreak as much havoc as possible."

"Why, though?" Bulwark rumbles, the big man's voice low and contemplative. "What does Elias get out of all this? Or the Phreaks?"

I shrug, immediately regretting the motion as my body screams in protest. "Beats me, big guy. Revenge, maybe? He seemed pretty pissed off at the insurance companies and healthcare system when I met him." A humorless chuckle escapes me. "Maybe he figures if he can just create enough chaos, he can bring the whole rotten system crashing down around their ears?"

Multiplex nods slowly, dark eyes narrowing in contemplation. "It's a concerning theory, to say the least," he murmurs, the words heavy with grim implication. "And if even half of what you've surmised proves accurate, then we're looking at a crisis that could very well spiral out of control in a matter of days, if not hours."

He turns, fixing me with a look that's equal parts concern and steely resolve. "Which is why I'm going to need you and the rest of the Young Defenders to work closely with our teams, to provide any and all intelligence you can on these players and their movements." His gaze sweeps across the assembled heroes, features hardening into a mask of unwavering determination. "We can't afford to hold anything back, not this time. The stakes are simply too high."

Beside me, I can feel Rampart shifting, his frame practically thrumming with restless energy. "You got it, boss," he rumbles.. "Just point us in the right direction and we'll handle the rest."

A chorus of murmured assent ripples through the room, the assembled heroes straightening with renewed purpose. Even Gossamer, usually the most timid and uncertain of the team, is eyeing the Defenders' delegation with a steely glint of determination.

My own lips curl into a faint, lopsided grin as I look around at my teammates. "Guess that means no more freelancing for a while, huh?" I quip, earning a playful jab in the ribs from Playback.

Multiplex regards us for a long, silent moment, the weight of the world seeming to settle across his broad shoulders. Then, with a decisive nod, he rises to his feet. "We'd prefer you avoid it. But... if it works, I won't complain."

Clara grabs her small contribution to the conversation. "If you do anything criminal in the process of this investigation it's probably for the best that you keep that to yourself. Ha ha."

Everyone gets out an unwelcome chuckle at that.

Multiplex sits back down in his chair and raises his voice. "Alright, everyone. Let's get to work. Time is of the essence, and we've got a city to save. Fifteen minute recess, and then I need everyone on their A-game. Young Defenders, you stay here. There's more to discuss for us."

The room erupts into a flurry of activity, heroes and support staff alike surging into motion as a fresh wave of purpose and determination sweeps through the assembled ranks. Jamal steps forward, already issuing a rapid-fire series of orders and directives.

I take a step back, watching the chaos unfold with a sense of quiet apprehension. The path ahead is clear, the threat laid bare before us. But the road will be long, and the battles to come will be fierce.

All I can do is steel myself, and hope that in the end, it will be enough.