The Emissary of the multiverse

Matariel stood inside the convenience store of a gas station, watching the movement outside through the window.

He had arrived in this world three days ago. For now, he was training the powers granted to him by God before setting out to complete his mission.

And how did he know what his mission was? Apparently, one of the powers he had received was a weakened version of Cosmic Awareness, though with a very specific purpose: his Cosmic Awareness only worked on beings with a certain malicious or infernal tendency.

And in this world, he had two main missions. The key figures for his first mission had just arrived.

Using his enhanced hearing—another power he'd been granted—Matariel listened in as a group of young people talked about a marijuana plantation while filling up their car.

Deciding he had observed enough, Matariel stepped out of the store, holding a bottle of water, and approached the group.

"Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I happened to overhear you guys," Matariel said, introducing himself.

"Yeah, well, you didn't mean to, but you were pretty rude. What do you want, man?"

After a moment of silence, one of the group members, whom Matariel recognized from his memories as Richie, spoke up.

Matariel looked at Richie, raising an eyebrow, surprised by his hostility.

"I heard about the marijuana plantation too, and after listening to you, I thought I'd introduce myself. How about we team up? I'm a great guide. I'm sure with me, you'll find the plantation much faster."

"Who told you, huh? Where'd you hear about the plantation?"

Another member of the group, whom Matariel identified as Esse, asked nervously.

"Hey, hey, don't talk to this guy, okay, Wade?!

And you—we don't need your help, and you better not come after us if you don't want trouble. We've got the numbers here," Richie said aggressively.

Matariel was taken aback by the hostility. Using a minor spell to read Richie's mind, he immediately understood the reason for his aggression. Looking at the girl standing next to Richie, who was glancing at him with a small smile, Matariel gave her a quick wink—something that seemed to irritate Richie even more.

"Alright, alright, my friend. There's no need to be so hostile. Actually, I'm not after the weed—I'm after something else that's with the weed. But don't worry about that. What I want has no value—at least, no monetary value," Matariel said before the situation could escalate further.

"But since you don't need my help, I'll postpone my search. After all, I don't want trouble; I'm outnumbered here."

Matariel added with a small, ironic smile and prepared to leave. Just then, he noticed a girl standing in the back of the group, watching him curiously. An idea formed in his mind.

"Wait, you wouldn't happen to be Whitney, would you? Whitney Miller, Clay's sister?"

Matariel said, feigning surprise as he used the opportunity to get closer to the group.

Everyone in the group looked shocked by the revelation. A boy standing next to Whitney placed a hand on her shoulder, as if marking his territory, and glared at Matariel, who simply smiled.

"You know me?"

"I know your brother. I'm a friend of Clay's. I've seen you a couple of times when I was with him, but I never had the chance to introduce myself. I'm Matariel, but my friends call me Matt. Nice to meet you."

Whitney looked at him, unsure if he really was a friend of her brother or just some weird stalker. But what Matariel said next removed all doubt.

"Clay told me about your mom's situation. I know we haven't met before, but I want you to know I'm here to help if you need it. Clay's a good friend."

"Thanks, Matariel. I haven't talked much with Clay recently, but when I see him, I'll ask him about you," Whitney said with a smile.

"Wait, you said you were looking for something near the plantation, right? Why don't you come with us?"

"Whoa, whoa, I'm sure everyone here found your conversation fascinating, but you can't just decide that, Whitney. He says he knows your brother, but he could be lying," Richie interrupted.

"Oh, don't be like that, Richie. Unless he's some crazy stalker who's been following Whitney for months, there's no way he could know all this.

You're not a stalker, right?"

A girl standing next to Richie asked.

"No," Matt replied.

"See? He doesn't seem like a stalker to me.

I'm Amanda, by the way. Nice to meet you, Matt. Can I call you Matt? We don't know each other yet, but I think we'll be great friends, so I'm getting ahead of myself," Amanda said.

Matt was surprised but let out a laugh.

"Nice to meet you, Amanda. I feel the same way."

"Well, if it's no trouble for you, I'd like to come along."

"It is trouble si—"

"RICHIE!"

Amanda pinched him before he could finish.

"Alright, alright. He can come with us, but if he's some crazy murderer and kills us all, I won't forgive you guys.

So, do you need a ride, or do you have your own wheels?" Richie asked.

Matt pointed to a Harley Davidson parked nearby.

"I don't need a ride."

"So that beauty's yours… At least you've got good taste.

Alright, folks, let's get going before even more people show up chasing after our weed."