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"Ms Smith, this is {if Futa==true}Mikaela{else}Michael{endif} Abbott." You smile awkwardly as Rachel introduces you to her stiff-lipped chaperone. "{if Futa==true}She's told me that she has an Enhancement as a result of her mutation.{else}He's told me that he has an Enhancement as a result of his mutation.{endif}"

The lady's bored gaze becomes suddenly piercing, and she practically X-rays you, her expression suspicious but curious.

"May I inquire in what way you have been enhanced?"

"Well, I'm stronger, tougher, and heal faster than a regular person," you list, glancing down at yourself. Your {if Futa==true}powerful Amazonian{else}newly chiselled{endif} body would make most people think twice before picking a fight with you, and your physiological enhancements alone were probably enough to qualify you as a low-powered hero.

Ms Smith rolls a pencil between her grey fingers. "Improved muscles will do well for you in the boxing ring, but I'm afraid Rachel represents a highly selective group with a rather unique skill set."

You suck in your lips; you had hoped to not even have to hint at your pheromones, but you are keen to meet those hot superhero gals - sorry, keen to be a {if Futa==true}heroine{else}hero{endif} and save lives. "I also release chemicals that make people more... relaxed, more suggestible." As you speak, you release a hefty dose of pheromones towards Ms Smith; age does not make anyone immune to their primal urges.

Ms Smith's lip half-curls in wry amusement. "How do I know you're not using these chemicals now?"

You give her your most {if Futa==true}alluring{else}charming{endif} smile. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me, and make a call."

The government official's expression softens further as she inhales more of your unseen pheromones. "Well, I think we should take you back to HQ to run some tests, and with any luck, you'll be joining our cohort of Enhanced individuals. I don't see what harm can come of it."

You smile to yourself - if only she knew.

You're somewhat disappointed to find that your journey to HQ is not the ultra-cool helicopter ride that you had fantasised, but rather a dull 2-hour trip in a taxi. That said, it is quite a nice taxi, practically a limousine. More importantly, the atmosphere becomes much more relaxed once Ms Smith puts on headphones and loses herself in her laptop, busy with something official-looking. That just leaves you and Rachel to talk to one another.

Now you have a chance to get to know your new girlfriend better, you realise she's just as likeable - if not more - than your first impression in the assembly. She's sweet, easy to talk to, smart but humble. As you talk about the various things out the window, going off on tangent after tangent, the trip seems to fly by. You utterly lose yourself in her shining personality, your eyes captured inescapably by her beautiful face. If you had to choose between her and Amy, it would be a close call, but in this moment, Rachel would edge out the redhead.

"We're nearly there," says the raven-haired teen, drawing you from your musings. "Because only 0.008% of people our age have mutations that basically give them superpowers, they reckon there's only around 50 to 300 people in the whole country who have them. Though of course, that depends where you draw the line on what's a superpower. So far the government's found only six of us, though I'm sure that'll go up pretty quickly now they've gone public on this."

"Aw, shucks, and you came to my school despite the odds," you tease.

Rachel giggles musically. "Sorry, I just couldn't stay away."

You abruptly have to end your flirting as Ms Smith removes her headphones, stowing them in her bag.

"We're here," she says, smiling at you like a cougar. You did try to shut off your pheromones as much as possible, but trapping a woman for 2 hours in a confined space with you will inevitably have some effect.

You look out the window as the taxi turns into a tree-lined driveway, and double-take as you see the sign next to the wrought-iron gates.