Special Treatment

At exactly 8:00 a.m., Scott had just finished eating and was about to take his empty plate to the kitchen when a sharp knock echoed from the front door.

He paused mid-step, glancing toward the entrance. For a brief moment, he wondered who it could be, but then it clicked, his mother had mentioned someone from headquarters would be coming to pick him up.

The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.

Scott hurriedly placed his plate in the sink, not even bothering to rinse it, before rushing toward the door. His heart pounded slightly, not from fear, but from the sudden realization that this was it. His life was officially changing.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door.

Standing before him was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with a no-nonsense expression. He wore a fitted black tactical jacket with silver stripes running along the sleeves, a high collar, and a badge stitched onto the chest that bore the emblem of the guild.