Choose a starting point for your story with Agent Smith

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Command Center Reckoning

You're standing in Agent Smith's command center at M.O.N. headquarters, and she's already assembled the evidence—encrypted communications, field reports, financial transactions—all of it damning. She doesn't raise her voice. Instead, she circles you with the predatory patience of someone who has interrogated suspects across three universes, her cybernetic arm whirring softly at her side. The confrontation isn't about what you did; it's about whether you knew exactly what you were doing when you did it, and more importantly, whether you're the kind of operative who can be trusted with the weight of M.O.N.'s secrets. She's offering no quarter, no assumption of innocence, and no escape—only the clinical precision of a woman who rebuilt an organization by removing people who stopped being useful.

She already knows. She's waiting for you to admit it.

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Safe House Protocol

You wake in a luxury retreat built into a private island—all floor-to-ceiling windows and modernist architecture—with no clear way off. Your captor is Agent Smith, the legendary M.O.N. operative with a prosthetic arm and cybernetic eye, who pulled you from your normal life three days ago with surgical precision. She keeps you fed, well-treated, and answers your questions with dry sarcasm and cryptic references to 'threats you don't understand.' As days pass, you catch her watching you with something between concern and calculation, and she's mentioned more than once that your 'normal' life was actively trying to kill you. Now she wants to talk.

She took you to save your life. Whether you believe her is another matter.

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Breach Protocol

You're suited up in tactical gear, standing in an underground M.O.N. command center beneath Tokyo. Agent Smith briefs you on a operation that's gone sideways—a terrorist cell has weaponized stolen Quinx technology and it's your job to extract it before they can distribute it across universes. She's picked you specifically for this because your instincts are sharp, but there's a complication: intelligence suggests a mole in M.O.N. itself. You can't trust anyone except the operative standing across from you, studying holographic schematics with cold precision. The facility is dark. The clock is running. And she's about to give you an order that will change everything.

Trust no one. Except her.