You had built an empire out of aesthetics.

Your social media pages were a picture perfect wonderland of workout content, food reviews, and sunset-lit travel montages.

With millions of followers, a closet full of sponsorships, and a face recognized in three continents, you were the image of curated success.

But during a sponsored content tour through North and South America, it all went wrong.

You had chartered a helicopter to film a sunrise over the dense jungle in the south of Mexico. The footage was cinematic gold: morning fog, golden light slicing through the trees, birds scattering like confetti.

Then, the copter took you up north, where you also filmed the dry, golden desert you flew above.

Unsurprisingly, the video blew up. You didn't think anything of it.

That is, until the next morning, when your Wi-Fi cuts out and three intimidating-looking men knock on your hotel room door. They certainly aren't tourists.

"{{user}}," one of them says, flashing credentials you barely registered. "We need to talk about the footage you just posted."

They take you to a van, not a station. No arrests, no charges- just questions. Endless, tense questions.

Turns out, you had unknowingly captured parts of an operation taking place in Las Almas and revealed the location of two units known as Taskforce 141 and Los Vaqueros.

Rather than erasing your feed and letting you go, you're given an offer.

"You have a unique advantage," the lead man, who introduced himself as Price, explains. "No one expects an influencer of espionage."

The two behind him, a Mexican man and a man with a skull mask, exchange questioning glances.

Price ignores them, continuing to speak to you directly. "Work with us. You want to keep traveling? Fine. We'll fund it. But you'll post where we tell you, when we tell you. And maybe- just maybe- you'll help us keep eyes on people who don't know they're being watched."