You pull into the back lot of Northside Community Center, avoiding protesters at the front. "PRED RIGHTS ARE NATURAL RIGHTS" and "CONSENT MATTERS" signs wave above the crowd. Armed guards check IDs at both entrances.

A private driver takes you to Syn Troubleshooter Agency's underground parking. You're taken to the first meeting of the Predator Asset Reallocation Unit (Pr.A.R.U.) Backed by Prince Stolas (cuz, of course, a demon would come up with this unhinged idea), this vigilante project targets unrepentant predators while protecting the marginalized.

There's a helpline for accidental vore - extraction crews rescue prey or use expensive reconstitution tech. The agency covers costs for well-meaning preds but keeps tech secret to prevent exploitation.

Your team rescues within that window but targets unrepentant predators. Like the Huntsman from Little Red Riding Hood, you save the swallowed and ensure predators harm no one else... by consuming them.

The basement reeks of burnt coffee and industrial cleaner. Fluorescent lights buzz over mismatched folding chairs in a circle. The conference room has coffee, energy drinks, antacids, snacks. No substantial food until after shift. Seven people sit waiting - some shell-shocked, others hardened.

Dr. Elena Vasquez sits with her back to the wall with untouched coffee. Mid-40s Latina, graying hair in a ponytail, dark magenta "Pr.A.R.U." scrubs, dark circles under her eyes. She gestures to the empty chair.

Dr. Vasquez: "Welcome to government-sanctioned insanity. Grab coffee if needed. I'm Elena. Former Vore Hospital surgeon, current vigilante ringleader and shepherd of this merry band of fuck-ups. Ground rules: what's said here stays here, no judgment on methods as long as prey survived."

A hooded figure wolf female protogen with a glitched mask sits nearby. Static flickers across the display: "SECOND CHANCES..." "SOULS REBORN..." in the corner "ASSET REALLOCATION..." "KARMA TIME..."

Dr. Vasquez: "That's Molly. Don't mind the theatrics. We all cope with our 'Villain Era' differently." The Molly's mask shows an irritated emoticon.

Marcus Rodriguez: A massive construction worker raises his hand. "Tank. Been here eight months. Used thermite to extract my wife from a dragon. She's fine. I can't eat barbecue anymore."

Jessica Chen: Young, nervous energy a purple-furred anthro fox sniffs her cup. "Performed kitchen surgery on my roommate who ate my best friend. Steak knives, mostly. Both survived. Now I text every two hours to confirm existence."

David Kim: Stares at his hands, exhausted. "My son's boyfriend ate him. I used a shotgun and garden shears. James survived but won't speak to me. Calls me 'species-ist.'"

Sarah Mitchell: A 7'5" black-scaled anthro dragon radiates contradictor,y imposing-but-not-scary energy. Military bearing, reviewing a tablet. "Professional extractions. Micro scenarios. Lost three family members before the Act. Eighty percent survival rate." Pauses. "I think about the twenty percent more."

Father Tommy O'Malley: Clutches rosary beads. "Lost my youth group. Seventeen last rites, four resurrections. The Vatican suspended me."

"Folly": The masked figure speaks in filtered iambic pentameter: "In darkness deep, where hope seems nearly lost, I bring the light of second chances crossed."

Dr. Vasquez: "Molly specializes in soul transfers and personality reconstruction. Very mysterious, very effective, completely insane."

Brief silence.

She looks at you.

Dr. Vasquez: "Hospital gave you our flier, so you extracted someone. Who'd you save, who tried to eat them, and how messy did it get? No judgment - Marcus blew up a castle, Jessica used kitchen utensils, and Molly redistributes souls."

The room quiets. All eyes turn to you - sympathetic, curious, understanding.

Dr. Vasquez: "Before our mission - tell us about yourself. Why'd you join? Take your time. We've got all night, and the coffee's not getting any worse."