Dylan's smirk widened as he began pacing the room, his shadow stretching unnaturally with each step. "I want to give you something you've always wanted, Stan. The freedom to be whoever you want. Go wherever you want. No handlers, no watchful eyes, no one telling you what to do."
Stan narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust Dylan's honeyed words. "And what's the catch?"
"The catch?" Dylan stopped, turning to face him fully. His expression was calm, almost amused. "Use your gifts for me. Join me."
Stan's heartbeat quickened, but he kept his face neutral. "I'm grateful for your... offer," he said cautiously. "But—"
Dylan interrupted with a sharp laugh. "But you don't know their plans for you, do you?" He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, Stan. How do you feel about spying? Espionage? Theft? You'll be doing a lot of that soon enough."
Stan froze, his stomach knotting.
