Written by our dear friend Branwyn:

It had been intended as a simple rocket attack, a strike by one of the clan factions that had wished to send a message to the Board of Directors.
The rocket they had fired had struck one of Ivan's personal warehouses, destroying his vodka supplies.
The resultant explosion had leveled Omni-1 with a blast greater than any weapon that could have been launched from the nearby area.

Ivan sobbed as he sank down to his knees, his clothing charred from the blast that he alone had somehow survived being at the epicenter of.
"My vodka!" he wept as his fingers sifted through the ashes, ashes that poured through his trembling grasp like sand. "My... vodka." he sobbed as for the first time in many years he cried like a child, his sleeve swiping across his face as he attempted to disguise this fact.

In the midst of the now dead city, Ivan turned to look at the skies, his scream of anguish and rage piercing the night as the heavens parted and rain poured upon him "MY VODKAAAAAAA!"

Two weeks later Silverstone's mangled body was found, 'Vodka' carved into his forehead, witnesses reporting that a haggard man with a passing resemblance to Ivan had been seen skulking around the day before.

Every day after that, another prominent clan figure was found dead, the same word carved into their broken remains, while the security footage recovered showed a wild and haggard looking man effortlessly defeating their bodyguard.

This stopped however, five months later.

The clans were in disarray and Omni-Tek had used the atrocity to push further into clan territory than ever, while the rebuilding of Omni-1 progressing at a promising pace.

It was suspected for months after that Ivan had finally met his end at the hands one of the figures he had gone after. The truth however, shocked everyone to their core.

Ivan's body was found neatly pressed and folded, with no clue to how this could have happened.

The next few years promised to be interesting.