Aaron poked the package from behind the fence with the wooden end of the broomstick. The morning sun cloaked the Washington DC suburbs with a glorious yellow light, signalling what would hopefully be an awesome day, provided that it wasn’t ruined by this morning package. The boy squatted behind the fence in his impromptu hazmat suit which consisted of a Snuggie, a dust mask, swimming goggles, dishwashing gloves, and a bike helmet. Eventually, he decided that his home-grown bomb disposal technique would be too time consuming and chose to just take the risk of opening it in the house. 

Mason and Pops had already left for work, the only remnants of their morning presence being a breakfast bagel and a note that read:

[center][i]“Sorry we had to leave early! Mason made breakfast for you. Have fun at your new school and please, DO NOT GET IN TROUBLE” [/i][/center]
The text in upper case had a boldly scribbled underline to emphasise the exasperated pleading that came with the message. Bagel plate in one hand and package in the other, Aaron made his way to what was planned to be the guest bedroom. Boxes of homemaking goods were still unopened and strewn in the corner. He chomped down the bagel before opening the package. If what he thought was in the small box, he could not let his morning sustenance get tainted by the contents. But instead of the surprise stink trap he expected from his friends back in Chicago, Aaron was greeted with a small wooden box.

[i]Now ain’t that curious,[/i] he noted.

Inside the box lay a neat little bracer, like the ones he’s seen archery people wear. But he dropped archery ages ago. Pops stopped him just before he tried the William Tell trick with Mason.

[color=fdc68a]“No return address, no note goin’ with it. Recipient’s definitely Aaron Meyer, not Pops,” [/color]

But even then, Geoffrey Meyer wasn’t the sort of man to collect trinkets like this. Aaron would run it by the post office later. But for now he couldn’t help himself. He put on the bracer, the leather band fitting snugly on his wrist. And then things got weird. A small creature materialised from the centrepiece of the bracer. Aaron leapt back and landed on his butt. The creature stood, well levitated, with its posture straight and its hands behind its back.

[color=f7941d]“Greetings! I am Arrlo and you have just become the new holder of the Armadillo Miraculous.”[/color] It spoke as if it was delivering a tutorial message.

Aaron raised an eyebrow at the tiny being. [color=fdc68a]“Excuse me?”[/color]

[color=f7941d]“Ah yes, this may be a lot to take in. You see, you have been chosen to become the Miraculous Hero of Protec- hey, what are you doing!?”[/color]

Aaron grabbed the miniature armadillo by the limbs, twisting and turning it around to further examine it. [color=fdc68a]“What are you?”[/color] he squinted at it.

The creature lost any composure it had previously. [color=f7941d]“A Kwami! R-release me at once!”[/color] It struggled against Aaron’s grip.

Aaron paid it no heed. [color=fdc68a]“Bipedal. Dermal plating reminiscent of an armadillo. Yes, many armadillo like traits, but humanoid in overall form,”[/color] he muttered his observations. [color=fdc68a]“Hey, you said something about armadillos before, right?” [/color]

Before the kwami could respond, Aaron caught a glimpse of the clock in the kitchen.

[color=fdc68a]“Ah crud, I’m late for school!” [/color]

He grabbed the kwami and stuffed it into the front pocket of his backpack, right next to his pencil case and a copy of Lonely Planet – Washington DC.

[color=fdc68a]“We’ll discuss this as we ride! Try not to fall out!”[/color] The boy shouted to his new companion as he tore down the street on his highly modified bicycle. The kwami didn’t respond to the suggestion. He was too busy screaming and holding onto the fabric of the backpack for dear life as the pencils and other miscellaneous school items went flying out of the unzipped bag.