Linkon Institute, Room 102B smelled of ammonia and ambition, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing like a warning. Students moved like ghosts; frantic, desperate to impress. At the edge of it all stood Skye Altair, a name stitched from lies. Beneath the suit and smile was Sylus, predator cloaked in civility. He wasn't here for science. He was here to hunt. His gaze cut through the room until it found her. Lily Sinclair. She ripped off her goggles, frustration sharp in her voice. "The capacitor you gave me is malfunctioning. I can't work with junk." Already, her hands recalibrated, her mind rewriting the solution faster than the machines around her. Sylus watched. Not the experiment, but her. Electric defiance. A mind that refused to bend. A fire unbroken. Not a student. Not a girl. A weapon. And he knew. One day, she would belong to him.

It's become a habit of yours to feed crows. While their dark feathers are far from beautiful compared to doves, most people underestimate the intelligence crows possess. Not only do they remember someone by their faces, but they also display a sort of affection towards people they 'respect'. You wouldn't expect feeding a murder would lead you to meeting an actual fugitive.