The young man took his bow, breathing slowly, he need full concentration and control. At his side, a small blue origami dragon swing slowly. Hanging from his neck was a small blue Japanese lantern, not bigger than his thumb. Surrounding him was a beautiful nature, ending with a massive waterfall and small lake.

There was no sound other than the waterfall, no distraction, just him and his targets. Tensing his weapon, he shot the first arrow, hitting right in the center of the target. Even before the first arrow landed, he started running, pointing and hitting the next. Followed with a jump, while being upside down he shot a third precise shot. The fourth target was behind him. Once he landed, he spun 180 degrees and jumped to his back. The fourth arrow hit the center but he was still not done: He landed on a resistant tree ranch and continued to climb it, reaching as high as he could. The last target was far away. He wasn't strong enough to reach so far away so he was compensation with high.

He shot his last arrow and it hit the target, just a fraction of a second after hitting, an alarm went off. "Yes!" Scott Truman shouted in victory. He had practiced these shots for months and he finally was successful. He was so happy, he lost a bit of balance and starting falling from the tree. Luckily, his samurai training permitted him use the branches to slow his fall enough to land gracefully. "That could have gone better" Said while he fixed his clothes.

Time later.

Scott was ready, taking his bags, his pendant and his blue dragon, which too form of a hexagon. He looked around, at his room. He felt some nostalgia. He had lived here his whole life. And he didn't liked it, thinking that he should be ready to leave it at any moment, be ready when the must called him having nothing making him look back. But here he was.

"Any problem?" His father appeared in the exit. Despise that his clothing was common, his posture and voice demanded respect. It was also possible that the burn scar that covered half of his face that shouted that you didn't talk him nonsense.

"No sir." He answered, with a soldier posture.

"I trust that you understand how serious the mission is from here onward."

"The future of manking counts on the Rangers. I will give my 100%"

"I am counting with you giving even more. It will take every drop of your strength and the others. Your training is not done yet, but the attacks are about to begin. Also-"

"With all due respect, I might not be the ranger you wanted on the field." Scott interrupted. "But I am the Ranger you have."

His father remained silent, with a steel look. He took Scott bags and give them at his hand. "Then prove it."

Scott hold his stare for a moment, took his bags and said yes with his head, leaving without other words. This military raising style was normal in his family, but Scott felt that maybe his father would act just a bit warmer or different. Once again, he was upset about how he felt, thinking this shouldn't be the case. He soon left the house.

"One heck of a pep talk. Wasn't it?" Scott growled tiredly. His uncle voice was unmistakable no matter where.

"It is not a good moment. At all" Scott answered, already tired of this talk

"What happens if I don't get another chance tomorrow because a missing arrow hit you?" This made Scott stop, finally turning toward his uncle. He was the opposite from his father, careless and playful, his clothes screaming thief. "Give your uncle a goodbye hug, would ya?!" He said with his arms open.

"Excuse me if I am not convinced." He answered with no emotion. His uncle Paul still put his arm on Scott shoulders.

"You know, you shouldn't pay attention to your old man. You have trained all this time for this moment, facing all his crazy challenges without complaining to your mad daddy. I believe-" Scott didn't pay him much attention at all. When his uncle took his arm off, Scott took it. He had just taken his wallet.

"You only wanted to speak." Scott said before taking it away and continued his way with haste. "A good for nothing uncle, a father that don't want to even see me-" He complained as he searched his wallet, making sure everything was in place.

Strangely, everything was there. Instead there was something more. A little folded paper. Scott took it with care and open it. He froze on his place, feeling like crying. It was a picture of his late mother. A single tear fell on his face. He dried it when he noticed it.

"I am sure my sister would be proud of you. And your father is. He is just too much of an idiot to admit it." His uncle said, putting his hand on Scott shoulder again. A good minute of silence went on. Then "But seriously, do you need those 20 dollars? Because they could come in handy." Scott only looked at him with his eyes half closed.

However, his expression turned into a smile. "Thank you" His uncle just answered with his head and both continued with his road.