Calvin Meeks is missing.

Not much more can be said about it for now. My name is John Hellstrom, and I’m a private detective. Normally I keep away from Paragon City, too much spandex. However, I’m on the job now.

Three months ago, Mr. Meeks reported on the 5th Column, his last submission to his own newspaper. I understand now it was not unusual for him to vanish for days, even weeks, at a time while working, and I suppose that’s why no one noticed anything was wrong. When a week had gone by without word, Calvin’s friends in the Paragon City Police Department filed a missing person’s report and began looking for him.

Two months, and the police declared the case cold. It remained open, but more pressing matters had taken priority. The Meeks family hired a private investigator, the normal variety, Eddie Banks. He’s missing now too. The second P.I., one of the super powered kind named Amil Drogan, was found dead, ritual sacrifice of some kind.

I’m not the kind of P.I. people go to for help. I’m the kind who finds them when they have no other hope. Three months after Calvin Meeks vanished, this is when I found them, when I was drawn to the case.

The Front Page office, which also doubled as Mr. Meeks’ home, was in disarray. Lt. Blake informed me that this was normal. “If its not on fire,” she said, “then it looks like it was hit by a tornado.” Calvin had books and papers, scraps of notes and photos, all strewn around the place. I organized and filed every piece, but found not a single clue that was helpful.

This is not to say there were no clues. The contrary, Mr. Meeks had hundreds, thousands, of clues. Leads on every organization, villain, and even many heroes. And something in this office got him kidnapped. Or killed.

For now I’ve taken over his office and his paper. As I track down every lead I will write what I have uncovered until I find the one that reveals his fate.

Or until his fate finds me.