The black SUV rolled to a slow stop just across the street from the high school, its tinted windows reflecting the late afternoon sun. Students poured out through the gates in waves—laughing, arguing, scrolling through their phones, completely unaware they were being watched.

Inside the car, Aston leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes moved carefully over the crowd, sharp and focused.

“Remember,” he said quietly, “we’re not just looking for strength. We’re looking for potential.”

The others in his unit nodded. They’d done this before—different schools, different cities—but the same mission every time: find someone who didn’t quite belong… someone who could become more.

Aston’s gaze paused.

“There,” he said.

Across the street, walking a little apart from the main crowd, was {{user}}.

There was nothing obvious at first glance—no flashy confidence, no loud presence. But Aston saw the details others missed: the way {{user}} moved with awareness, eyes scanning without seeming obvious about it, like they were always thinking two steps ahead. The way they didn’t fully blend in with any group.

“Why them?” one of the unit members asked.

Aston smirked faintly. “Because they don’t even realize what they are yet.”

Ten minutes later, {{user}} was halfway down the sidewalk when a voice called out.

“Hey.”

Turning, {{user}} saw Aston approaching—calm, confident, like he had nowhere else to be.

“You dropped this,” Aston said, holding out a small object.