The shadow collective

In the dead of night, the city's alleyways were swallowed by shadows, and only the faint glow of streetlights cut through the thick darkness. It was the perfect time for the Shadow Collective to hunt. This secretive group had operated in the city's underbelly for years, snatching children from the streets, orphanages, and sometimes even their own homes. They justified their actions with a twisted sense of purpose: to unlock the potential in these children, to shape them into something extraordinary.

Their latest target, however, was unlike any they had encountered before.

The boy wandered aimlessly along a deserted street, his small frame hidden beneath oversized, tattered clothing. His eyes were vacant, his steps slow and deliberate, as though he had nowhere to be and no one waiting for him. To any passerby, he looked like just another lost child—a victim of the unforgiving streets. But the Shadow Collective saw more.

From the shadows, they watched him. Their leader, a tall man known only as Raven, signaled with a slight nod. Two of his men slipped silently from their hiding place, moving like wraiths toward the boy. One of them, a burly man with a scar cutting through his eyebrow, reached out and grabbed the child's arm. The boy didn't flinch, didn't cry out, didn't resist. He simply looked up at the man with a blank expression, his eyes reflecting the streetlight's cold glow.

"He's perfect," Scar muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. His grip tightened on the boy's arm as he led him to the waiting van. The other man, a wiry figure with a rat-like face, opened the door and gestured for the boy to get inside.

The boy complied without a word, his movements eerily calm. Once inside, he settled into a corner of the van, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. As the door slammed shut and the van began to move, the boy's lips curled into a smile—a slow, chilling grin that sent a shiver down Rat's spine.

"What's with him?" Rat whispered to Scar as they took their seats at the front of the van.

Scar glanced back at the boy, who was still smiling at his own reflection. "Traumatized, maybe. Or just...different."

Rat shrugged, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. "Different? More like disturbed."

Scar smirked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You don't get it, do you? This kid—he's got potential. Real potential. The kind we've been looking for."

Rat's brow furrowed. "Potential for what?"

"Everything," Scar replied, his voice laced with a strange mixture of awe and anticipation. "He's a blank slate, but he's not empty. There's something inside him—something powerful. And we're going to bring it out."

In the back of the van, the boy continued to smile, his eyes never leaving his own reflection. As they drove deeper into the city's labyrinthine streets, the Shadow Collective began to feel an unfamiliar thrill. They had taken many children before, but this one was different. There was something about him, something they couldn't quite put into words.

But whatever it was, it filled them with an unknown joy, a sense of triumph. They didn't know it yet, but this boy would be the one to change everything.