Argent, a newly established city between New York and Pennsylvania some fifty years ago, was the country’s well-renowned hotspot for law firms, Ivy League schools, and shopping centers. One law firm towered over nearby competitors as if challenging them to snatch their top status.

The law firm is Glint, Nexus, and Wenge.

Inside the building, an aged yet modern office that had been newly refurbished was neatly cleaned and vacant. The sounds of gathered pencils and desks being cleared echoed throughout the office. Speckled sunlight peered throughout the blinds and onto ferns in the corners. A man, assumed to be a lawyer, packed up what seemed to be the last of his boxes, stacking them on top of each other.

Nathaniel Nexus, a mid to late forties brunette, wiped dust off his indigo suit’s sleeves, checking his phone for any lingering voice mails. Several awaited him, as well as numerous texts telling him to enjoy his break. One of his law partners, Titus Wenge, leaned against Nexus’ office’s doorway. He twirled a gold pen, resting it on his right ear, gray and brown hair strands resting on it. His worn face slightly perked when he took a sip of his coffee.

“Your presence sure will be missed around the firm,” he began.

Nexus barely glanced at Wenge, lifting his briefcase and heading past him through the office’s doorway.

“I left memos for you and Alistair. I should be returning in a few months,” Nexus said.

“Alistair is busy scouting at that Vellichor Law School, but I’ll be sure to notify him.”

“Good.”

Nexus withdrew his office key, using it for what could be the last time. He locked the door, twisting the knob to make sure it was closed.

“And Wenge?”

Wenge tried to hide a smile of satisfaction, not expecting Nexus to continue the conversation. He erased the smile instantly, trying to disguise a joyous tone.

“Yes?”

“Don’t expect me to turn away from whatever corrupted path you’re taking.”

No more pretending was necessary. Wenge was officially taken by surprise. His defense and guard skyrocketed, and his trained lawyer skills took over.

“It's not like these allegations will concern you for the meantime, are they?”

Nexus walked down the hallway, deciding to take the stairwell as his exit for today. He looked back at Wenge, raising a brow.

“Why would they be concerning me?”

Nexus went through the stairwell door, leaving Wenge to contemplate exactly what he meant, the stairwell door slamming shut.

The skies were faded, yet a slightly vibrant blue. This captivated some of the freshmen who exited the Law School's finished orientation welcome.

     Vellichor Law School. The third most prominent law school in the country.

    New friends are nearly joined at the hip, discussing law firm interior ideas. Others are trying to conceive the order of partner names with each other. Tenny Hale, an eighteen-year-old African-American female student, was like a few other freshmen. Walking ahead with music pulsating through her ears in her own world. She pushed her long, raven-colored pigtails from her shoulders to her back, purple eyes opening in annoyance at a familiar sound. Loud, rampant footsteps drown out the others. Mark Avery, a persistent short-haired blonde boasting the same indigo uniform, approached Tenny with great enthusiasm.

       “Tenny! Hey, Hail!”

Hearing her name, Tenny took an earpiece out and turned around. She became annoyed once she realized who it was, putting the earpiece back in.

     “I’m surprised I’m the first one to get to you! The way your mouth fired off those questions at the Professor. You’re a scholarship student, aren’t you-”

     “Look, I’d love to give you an interview on 60 minutes chock full of the questions you threw at me today, but I have a syllabus to examine-”

     “Can you blame me? It was like I got a front-row seat to a trial! Let me just get something-”

Mark shifted his bag, his free hand knocking the bag to the ground and splattering numerous pens and papers. He knelt down to pick up his things. Tenny sighed, going over to help.

     "I was just confirming our assignments' loose ends. Dotting the i's and crossing the t's. I can't stress that enough-”

     “So, I'm Mark Avery. My father told me to find the ambitious ones on the first day.”

     “Do you want an autograph?”

     “And I’ve found countless others. You’re like the sixteenth best one today.”

     “I should be flattered…”

     “Hey! It's to be expected at this kind of school. You think you're the cream of the crop? 'All hail Hale,' huh?”

     “So, this little syllabus, Avery, is full of assignments. We should hop to them.”

Tenny walked away. Mark looked like he had more to say, standing up.

     “But-”

Tenny turned her head, agitated.

     “Is an e-mail exchange too much to ask for?”

Tenny took a moment. She sighed, walking back over to Mark while withdrawing a pen.

     “Don't let the scholarship title cloud my being. I'm just a student like everyone else, and I'm here to help if you need it. Just tone it down. Discretion can be an amazing guide.”

Tenny finished writing her e-mail on the back of one of Mark's collected papers.

     “All hail Hale!”

     “If you say that one more time…”

Interrupting their conversation, a young African-American freshman, Blake Dayton, placed a hand on Mark's shoulder. He sported the same indigo-colored uniform as the both of them and placed a hand on his fade, smoothing it.

     “Yeah, Mark, you've been saying that for the entire class.”

     “What's your point, Blake? The whole classroom chanted it!”

     “After you brought it to fruition. Don't you know about first impressions?”

     “Don't enlighten him now, Blake. His future clients should know what they're getting into in the first five minutes of meeting him,” Tenny said.

     “You think I’ll have clients?!”

Tenny stood in a line outside the campus' most popular hotspot, the Dale cafe. Mark and Blake were ahead of her. The cafe was giving away free muffins with a purchased cup of coffee—a deal apparently too good to pass up, as evidenced by the crowded line.

     “I'm just saying. This place would exceed its wildest expectations if it were to keep the 'buy a coffee, get a muffin' deal! At least once a week,” Mark began.

     “People can adjust to specials like that very quickly, to the point where it'd be expected. The staff would have to keep finding ways to top their deals. That's also how a privilege turns into entitlement. In the eyes of a customer, of course,” Blake responded.

     Mark groaned.

     “Agh, you lawyer wannabes are no fun. Logical tongues turn you into bores. Can't we just have a basic conversation?”

     “And you're not a lawyer wannabe? Actually, that'd explain a lot.”

     Mark lightly pushed a laughing Blake, who continued to taunt him. Tenny went through her phone and read her mother's early text about attending orientation.

     It was sent hours ago. Still unanswered.

     As a busy reporter at Argent's City Hall, Tenny's mother barely had time to eat lunch. Tenny knew this but still hoped she could enter a reply by today. She got an idea, lifting her phone. Scanning the area, Tenny aimed to get a good picture of the campus surroundings to send her. A few snapshots in, Mark leaned into Tenny's phone's view with peace signs on both hands.

     “They don't have any clown courses here, do they?” Tenny asked.

     “No?” Mark replied.

     “Glad we cleared that up.”

     Blake laughed as Mark re-examined the question, finally getting it. Blake teased Mark over his delayed reaction while Tenny got more pictures for her mother. Holding her phone up, she aimed it at the school building.

     “But Mark, back to your 'lawyer wannabes' comment. We're all here for the same reason, and it's not for fooling around. It's to clean up these streets,” Blake said.

     “This is Fallow, Argent Blake. The worst things here are shoplifting and passive-aggressive socialites.”

     “Crime nonetheless. And where they are, we'll be."

     In the distance of Tenny's shot, a suspicious, hooded figure walked towards a group of talking faculty. Lowering her phone, Tenny raised it again in case the figure decided to try something.

     The faculty staff continued a lively discussion, and the figure slammed into one of them. The impact knocked the culprit's violet hood off, but it did not stop him from running.

     A new, stolen watch dangled in his palm while the faculty group shouted after him. Many students erupted at the commotion, and Tenny recorded the entire encounter. With her newfound evidence, Tenny rushed over to the panicked faculty while Mark and Blake watched. The robbed staffer was distraught, trying to collect her thoughts. She adjusted her white headband over her raven hair, straightened her glasses, and smoothed out her ivory skirt.

     “Of all the things to happen! This campus is swarming with Campus Officers, and yet. The millions of meetings we've had over incompetence-”

     “Ma'am, perhaps this could be of some help.”

     The faculty were confused by the brand new student but anticipated anything she had to assist them with. Tenny withdrew her phone and went into the camera app. Before she could tap the image showing the perp's identity, her finger froze over the screen. The faculty awaited Tenny's evidence, but when seconds turned to moments, they gave the freshman a flurry of confused looks.

     This is where Tenny's uniqueness comes into effect.