A chill seeped through the thin fabric of the blanket as the insistent beep of the alarm jolted him awake. With a groan, he fumbled for the silver button, silencing the obnoxious device. His small, cluttered room was bathed in the dull gray light of dawn, the perfect reflection of his mood. A quick glance at the clock confirmed his worst fear: he was late. Again.

Throwing on a worn-out t-shirt and jeans, he slipped on his trusty, mud-splattered boots. The familiar weight of his phone in his back pocket was a constant reminder of the day's grueling task. A single text stared back at him: "Where are you? We're waiting." It was all the motivation he needed.

He rushed down the creaking stairs, the smell of stale coffee and burnt toast hanging heavy in the air. Ignoring the chaos of his tiny kitchen, he grabbed his keys and slammed the door behind him. The cold morning air hit him like a slap in the face. As he jogged down the cracked sidewalk, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that accompanied every new day.

Reaching the end of the block, he spotted the familiar hulking green behemoth. Ignoring the disapproving glances of passing neighbors, he hopped onto the side of the trash truck, its metal frame still warm from the night's collection. "Alright, let's head out," he muttered to himself, the engine roaring to life in response. As the rust bucket picked up speed he clenched onto the rusted steel handle he was grasping, anchored onto the side of the car for employees like himself to get the job done faster.

***

As the vehicle slowed and the humming of the engine silenced with one last hiss, Aiden hopped off the steel handles and rolled a large black bin over to the back. An older man called Lee, or gramps by the boys held a large steel lid open for Aiden to pour in the contents of the bin. As the rummaging of the falling trash settled Lee slammed the lid down, and the two continued to the front of the vehicle where Lee stepped into the passenger seat right next to Luke and Aiden clasped onto the handle once more. As the humming of the engine could be heard once more, and a loud hiss carried them away Lee spoke

"Why don't we slide by the bar tonight? after we drop the truck off?"

"Alright old man, but shouldn't we clean up first?"

A third force entered the conversation, the driver. 

"You know that part of town is almost always empty!"

**

/ SLAM /

A large fence was slammed shut, as the old man fashioned a lock onto it

"Alrighty lets head down boys."

Taking one step after another, Aiden reached into his pocket to check his messages. Nothing again, he didn't really have any friends except for these two but every once in a while he would get a spam call from some insurance company

"Any calls aiden?"

"None today, I was really hoping we could have some fun while we walked over"

"You guys, always needing phones. Whatever happened to a good conversation?"

The old man chuckled as he the two looked back at him, He always walked a little slower but that never bothered anyone. 

"You use your phone all the time Lee"

"Yeah but, talking to my granddaughter is different!"

"I forgot you were so old"

"Thanks for the compliment Luke."

The old man's sharp wit always brought a smile to their faces. It reminded them of that rainy night when they first met. Seeking shelter under a towering oak, they'd found themselves sharing a laugh with a stranger. The old man's quick jokes and easygoing demeanor had turned a dreary evening into a cherished memory, a bond forged in the shared warmth of laughter and camaraderie.

Aiden scanned the deserted street before crossing the road. Inside the bar, the old man made a beeline for a vacant stool, ignoring the protests of Aiden and Luke.

"We weren't planning on stealing your seat," Luke chuckled, sliding onto the stool beside him.

"Plenty of room for everyone," Aiden replied, spinning idly on a nearby bar stool. "Just wanted to rest my old bones," the old man grumbled.

The three men turned their attention to the TV as the bartender greeted them. "You boys saw the news, huh? Crazy stuff happening nearby."

"Just got off work," Aiden replied. "Figured we'd come unwind here."

The TV screen was filled with chaotic images of a woman, white hair flying, locked in combat with a squad of heavily armed enforcers. A news anchor interrupted the action to provide context. The old man, clearly frustrated by the interruption, reached for the remote and cranked up the volume.

"A seemingly ordinary woman caused quite a stir," the newscaster droned on. "Enforcers were dispatched to subdue her. However, she's managed to hold her own, thanks to her ice-based abilities."

A stern-looking woman appeared on screen. "As we all know, the emergence of demi-humans coincided with the monster attacks. Remember, the enforcers are here to protect us."

The action resumed with the enforcers unleashing a barrage of gunfire. The woman countered with a protective wall of ice.

"Anti-demi unit inbound!" a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. Anti-demi units were rare, individuals with demi-human abilities who'd chosen to work with the authorities.

The ice wall began to melt, creating a puddle on the floor. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Had she escaped? Aiden and Luke were captivated by the spectacle. Her abilities were extraordinary, and her disappearance added a layer of intrigue to her natural beauty.

A collective gasp swept through the bar as the ice wall collapsed, revealing an empty space where the woman had stood. The old man leaned forward, his eyes glinting with interest. "Now that's a trick," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Aiden and Luke were still in shock. The woman's disappearance was like something out of a cheap action movie. Luke shook his head, trying to process what they'd just seen. "Did she just... teleport?"

The bartender, a grizzled man with a lifetime of stories in his eyes, chuckled. "Who knows? These days, anything's possible. You boys are lucky to have seen that."

The newscaster on the TV was already speculating about the woman's escape, theories flying fast and furious. But for Aiden, Luke, and the old man, the mystery only deepened. They exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. This wasn't just a news story; it was something more. Something that pulled them in, promising adventure and danger.

The old man had a demi-human in the family, his daughter in fact. She worked as an enforcer and told him all sorts of secrets about demi-humans and enforcer activity. What did he get from all this? a normal human had no business fighting a demi-human. 

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

he looked off towards the two younger boys and decided to spout off some elderly knowledge. 

"As you boys may know there are four ability types, the ability to control an element or more, the ability to physical enhance yourself oftentimes with an element, the ability to cause illusions and mind control, and finally the ability to use your energy like magic!"

the two looked at him dumbfounded, was he just detailing to them basic knowledge taught in middle schools?

"Are you serious?" Luke scoffed, his disbelief evident. The old man merely grinned, a twinkle in his eye.

"Let me finish," he said, raising a hand to silence Luke. "Most demi-humans have a limited energy supply, like a battery. Once it's drained, they're done for. That's why enforcers have the upper hand; they can wear them down with sheer firepower. My daughter, she's a smart one, says demi-humans avoid fighting each other. It's like two phones on low battery trying to make a long call."

He drained his beer in one long gulp, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "So, what's the big secret?" Aiden asked, curiosity piqued.

The old man leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The real magic lies in the aura. Everyone's born with a unique energy signature that determines their abilities. Some have a thick, powerful aura, others a thin, precise one. This aura is what powers their abilities. But here's the kicker: why would someone waste their precious energy in a random street fight in broad daylight?"

Aiden scratched his head, confusion evident on his face. "If what you're saying is true, why would she do this? Demi-humans working with the enforcers risk their lives daily, but they do it for a sense of duty. Why would a random criminal waste her energy like that, especially knowing they'd be hunted down afterwards?"

Luke chimed in, "Maybe she was a hitman. Found her target and thought she could get away with it unnoticed. But someone must have seen her."

Aiden nodded in agreement. "She probably overestimated her abilities. She seemed really powerful, but that news report about the anti-demi unit probably spooked her."

The old man took a long sip of his beer, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Why would a highly trained professional announce their presence to their target? And why hasn’t the news mentioned any previous targets?" The bartender twirled a pencil between his fingers, his expression mirroring the group's confusion.

The tranquility of the bar was shattered as the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a figure that chilled the blood. A tall, pale woman with an ethereal beauty that was both captivating and chilling. Her long, white hair seemed to shimmer in the dim light. The bartender’s hand darted beneath the counter, emerging with a glint of metal.

Before anyone could react, the woman was upon them. Her fingers flicked out, a barrier of ice solidifying in front of her, deflecting the bartender’s bullets. With a swift movement, she conjured an ice dagger, its translucent blade glinting dangerously.

The old man, with a courage that belied his years, leapt from his stool. "Get out of here!" he roared, his voice a sharp contrast to his frail appearance. He lunged at the woman, a desperate attempt to disarm her. With surprising agility, she parried his attack, her dagger aimed at his heart.

In a blur of motion, the old man embraced her, their bodies crashing to the floor. The woman struggled, her ice magic crackling around them. "Shoot her!" the bartender yelled, his voice trembling.

Aiden and Luke, their minds racing, reacted instinctively. Aiden hurled a barstool at the woman, while Luke dove for cover, searching for something to use as a weapon. The barstool shattered against her, but she seemed unfazed.

The bartender's gun roared, the deafening sound echoing through the small space. The woman's body jerked, her grip on the old man loosening. She slumped to the floor, her eyes wide with disbelief. A silence fell over the room, broken only by the heavy breathing of the survivors.

The old man leaned against the wall, his hand pressed against the gaping wound in his abdomen. His face was pale, but his eyes held a grim determination. "I told you boys, enforcers just wear them down. Had she been at full strength, we'd all be dead."

Aiden was the first to react, rushing to the old man's side. The bartender followed closely behind, pressing a cloth against the wound. "Stay still," he ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Luke stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body of the woman. The ice dagger had melted away, leaving behind a chilling pool of crimson and icy water. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him. A few moments later the sirens of enforcers could he heard in the distance, Aiden existed the building waving his hands "OVER HERE WE GOT HER" The black van halted on the sidewalk, as 5 armed men quickly dismounted the vehicle and rushed over. 

Looking at the scene, one of them men towards he back knelt down towards the old man and pulled out a black box with a green cross on it. 

"Is Sergeant Jackson Arriving?" asked the soldier who was tending to Lee's wound.

"He should be..." The sentence was cut short by a thunderous crash. The bar door splintered inward as a colossal figure burst through. The man was towering, his knees still bent from the impact, leaving imprints of his reinforced boots on the floor. The skin exposed beneath his pants glinted with a metallic sheen.

As he straightened, the paramedics arrived, their white van parked outside. The old man, still clutching his wound, was carefully loaded onto a stretcher. The enforcer placed a gentle hand on the injured man's body.

"She exerted aura into that blow. Take him to the enforcer treatment center," he ordered, his voice carrying a commanding tone. The paramedics nodded, quickly wheeling the stretcher towards the ambulance. The enforcer's uniform was distinct, bearing insignia that marked him as a high-ranking officer. The enforcer turned to Aiden and Luke, his expression a mix of confusion and scrutiny. Neither of them seemed injured, which was puzzling. Jain was known for her efficiency and ruthlessness. What could have gone wrong? Had she underestimated them, or was it the unexpected energy drain?

"Take him in for questioning," he ordered his subordinates. He approached the bartender, his hand outstretched. The bartender, still shaken, placed the gun in his palm. The enforcer handed it to one of his men. "Standard procedure," he explained. "We need to verify its registration."

Aiden had slipped away unnoticed, following the paramedics into the back of the ambulance. "Is this your grandfather?" one of them asked.

"No, just a work friend," Aiden replied. As the paramedic was about to close the doors, Luke managed to squeeze in. "Will he be okay?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the paramedic cleaning the old man's wound.

"He'll be fine, as long as we get him to the treatment center quickly," the paramedic assured him.

*** 

Aiden sat rigid in the small, uncomfortable chair. Beside him, Lee lay unconscious, his pale complexion a stark contrast to the dark wood. Fifteen minutes had passed in a blur of anxiety, Aiden's mind racing with worry. What would become of his friend?

His thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt entrance of Sergeant Jackson, accompanied by a quiet woman with long, dark hair. Jackson approached the still form of Lee, placing a gentle hand on his chest.

"Your friend has aura poisoning. It's treatable, but costly," Jackson explained, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. He gestured to the woman, who produced a file. Opening it, he continued, "Dropped out of high school, worked as a trash collector, turned twenty-one recently, lost your car to debt. No way you can afford the treatment." He passed the file back to the woman and turned his attention to Aiden, who was still staring at the floor.

Aiden's gaze flickered upwards, meeting Jackson's steely eyes. "So?" he managed to croak out, his voice dry.

"Aiden, we know everything about you, except one thing. You dropped out a month and two weeks before the mandatory ability check at eighteen. You were never tested."

Aiden's heart pounded in his ears. This was not the direction he wanted the conversation to go. He felt a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. "So what?" he managed to blurt out, his voice trembling slightly.

Jackson leaned in, his face inches from Aiden's. "Abilities aren't like in the movies, triggered by anger or sadness. They require focus, training, and willpower. If you haven't practiced, you won't be able to use them." He paused, his eyes boring into Aiden's. "That's the problem, we don't know if you have one. But if you do have one, we need you."

Aiden's mind raced. This wasn't a choice; it was an ultimatum. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, the image of Lee's pale face a stark contrast to the cold, clinical environment. He felt a lump form in his throat.

"I... I don't know," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. The words felt like stones in his mouth.

Jackson's expression hardened. "It's a dangerous world out there, Aiden. We need people like you. People with potential." His voice was laced with a subtle threat.

Aiden's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. He felt trapped, cornered. The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the clock seemed to echo in the room, each tick a reminder of the choices he had to make.

"I need time to think about it," he finally managed to say, his voice stronger than before.

Jackson nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Aiden's face. "We can give you some time," he replied, his tone measured. "But remember, your friend's life depends on it."

With those words, Jackson turned and left the room leaving behind a card with his number on it, the door clicking shut behind him. Aiden was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of the world pressing down on him.