By mid-2001, Los Angeles was once again thrumming with horsepower and adrenaline.
It started with whispers—talk of cars being hijacked off freight lines, high-speed trucks disappearing without a trace, and a crew that raced like ghosts. It was the kind of story Leonardo had expected to hear eventually. After all, he knew the script, even if he had chosen not to read ahead for years.
But now the lines were being spoken aloud.
And the canon had begun.
Leonardo sat behind his desk, dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up as he scrolled through a digital performance report. Nothing out of the ordinary—until Alfred stepped in, a thin manila folder in hand.
"The contacts from the LAPD delivered this," the butler said evenly. "You were right. Three more truck jobs, all hitting similar convoys. Precision driving, zero fatalities, and not a single eyewitness willing to talk."
Leonardo accepted the folder, flipping it open.
There were photos—grainy shots from traffic cameras. But in two of them, Leonardo caught a blur. Black Civics. Underglow. Formation driving.
"Toretto," he murmured.
Alfred arched an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"
"Not yet," Leonardo replied. "But he will be."
Before anything else, he spoke to his mother.
The sun poured gently into the sitting room of the estate, casting golden lines through the windows. His mother sat with a tea cup, calm and radiant, flipping through a report from one of the foundation's education partners.
"Mother, I need to step away," Leonardo began without preamble.
She looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. "How long?"
"A few months, maybe a year."
She set the cup down with a quiet click. "Leo. The company is expanding. You've worked tirelessly to bring it this far. You can't just vanish now."
"I'm not vanishing," he said, stepping closer. "I'm... living. For the first time in years. I've done what I set out to do—established the foundations. But I need to understand what it means to live among people, to build something beyond performance metrics."
She tilted her head. "Is this about a girl?"
Leonardo chuckled. "No. It's about reality. About connecting to the world, I'm supposed to help shape. If I don't step out of this tower now, I never will."
There was a long silence.
Then she nodded. "Alfred will coordinate operations. I'll oversee the board. But if you disappear for longer than you promise, I will send a helicopter to fetch you."
He grinned. "Understood."
Downtown Los Angeles had its rhythm, and the underground was its pulse. It was in parking lots, abandoned airstrips, and alleys lit with neon where Leonardo now found himself one Friday night. Not to race. Not yet.
But to watch.
The street races were louder now—more crowded. Money exchanged hands freely. Police scanners chirped in the background. And in the middle of it all, commanding the attention of everyone present, was Dominic Toretto.
Leonardo leaned on his matte black Audi S4—anonymously parked at the edge of the crowd. He watched Dom with mild amusement. Charisma like that wasn't taught. It was born. And Dom wore it like a jacket.
He scanned the crowd again. Letty. Vince. Leon. And then Brian O'Conner—new, still a bit too polished, but already threading himself into the crew.
Leonardo smirked. "Game on."
Over the next few weeks, Leonardo made calculated appearances. Never flashy. Always watching. He raced once—only once—and made sure it was close enough to lose by inches. Letty gave him a nod. Vince hated him immediately.
But Dom? Dom noticed him. Not for his car. For his silence.
"You don't talk much, DeMarco," Dom said one night after a race. "You watching or waiting?"
Leonardo smiled. "Both."
Dom liked that.
Back at the estate, Leonardo reviewed everything again. The truck hits were getting riskier. The heat was building. He didn't need the system to tell him that.
But then it chimed anyway.
[System Alert: Canon Thread Engaged - Special Mission Branch Unlocked]
Reward: Temporary Insight Buff - Character Trajectory Awareness (Passive)
He blinked. The text faded, but the effect lingered. Subtle. Like he could now feel the flow of decisions in real time. He wasn't reading a script—he was sensing the beats before they happened.
And that gave him time.
On a late summer evening, Leonardo returned to Toretto's Market & Cafe. He had come alone, dressed simply, and bought a bottle of water like any other customer.
Mia noticed him.
"You always sit out there alone," she said, offering a faint smile.
"I like to observe before I speak."
She tilted her head. "And what do you see now?"
Leonardo glanced across the cafe—Dom was laughing with Jesse, Letty was leaning against the counter, Vince was brooding over something.
"I see a storm," he said quietly. "And people too good to be caught in it."
She frowned, unsure of what to say.
Leonardo offered her a small smile. "That's why I'm here."
No one knew who he truly was. Not Mia. Not Dom. Not anyone.
As far as they were concerned, he was Leo—the quiet guy with the Audi and the sharp eyes.
That was enough.
Current Age: 20