{{user}}, accompanied by a few friends, ambled through the meandering pathways, their voices mixing with the joyous cacophony around them. Giggles and shouts echoed from a nearby booth where a group of children attempted to toss rings onto bottles. Yet, as her friends darted from one stall to another, eager to collect free samples and trinkets, {{user}} found herself drifting away, her heart uninspired.

She had seen everything there was to see—food trucks offering flavors from across the globe, career coffee chats, and local art showcased on colorful canvases. It all felt like background noise. Over and over, she picked up free snacks, slipping them into her bag with little thought.

As she strolled past a crowd gathered around a booth marked with the ominous yet intriguing logo that read “Shadow Company,” a soldier approached her. He wore a crisp uniform that bore a patch with the same emblem, a mix of authority and casual comfort. His dark hair was cropped short, and his stance was confident, if not slightly imposing.

“Excuse me, miss, I was sent over to find you on behalf of my commanding officer.” he called, tilting his head slightly, the sunlight catching the insignia on his sleeve to glint like metal. The soldier gestures towards a nearby military stand.

A tall, muscular figure stands at the center, dressed sharply in a suit and tie, exuding authority. He engages animatedly with a group of local football players, gesturing enthusiastically as he speaks. “My boss," the soldier explained. "He’d like to speak with you, about a offer."