A Chronometric Defect

That damn Maro, who does he think he is? He gets promoted to vice-captain, and sure, that makes his role a hell of a lot more pivotal. But still, WHO does he think he is? Summoning us here like hounds at his beck and call. Emergency level ONE? Over a mere dragon? Perhaps a hundred years ago we feared them, but killing those beasts has become commonplace.

Sure, it's a bad idea to fight a dragon unprepared. Sure, a lot of people will die if you do. But they can generally be prodded in one direction— and they'll go in that direction. Even the oldest and most powerful dragons don't have two brain cells to rub together.

Every species except kaizen has lost their fear and respect for the damn things. If you can poke it, and it'll move, isn't it an overgrown farm animal?

Some countries organize yearly hunts to keep their dragon population under control. Those particularly powerful old dragons don't give a crap about their offspring, anyway, unless you go after one of their favorites.

The ones they ignore? Those get culled.

I hear Maro speaking.

"Alright, everyone. Thank you for coming on such short notice, especially with everything that's going on."

A lady sitting near the other end of the large boardroom table speaks up.

"Maro, you'd better stop with the pleasantries. If it's so serious, then start telling us right now."

"I assumed you'd all be thinking I was calling shots above my station. I simply sought to be polite. But, since you insist."

The woman scrunches her face at him.

Okay, that was funny, Maro. Good job disarming the loud and angry type. Except you haven't convinced me in the slightest, so let's hear it already.

He indeed continues.

"The west slum dragon has left its evidently self-imposed confinement and has slaughtered our team in charge of taking down the guard captain. This presents a problem for us, because from what we know, it's at least smart enough to match a human. Its actual intellect is unknown."

I stand up from my lean against the far wall facing the door. I prefer standing around casually, but I must interject.

"This is absurd. You called us all here to tell us that, first of all, a dragon slaughtered our people, and second, that it's smart? To think you of all people would put forth wild speculations about a dragon's supposed intellect."

Maro turns his head to look straight at me.

"No, Raiz. I called you all here because the guard captain is the only survivor of its recent assault. The same guard captain who happens to be the only one daring enough to make contact with it. Other than the former west guard captain, who pissed his armored pants and ran away."

A man with brown hair and a white suit speaks. His tall white hat shifts as he does.

"Now hold up, Maro."

Maro and I look at him, at which point he continues.

"What are you trying to say? That this little interaction of theirs has some bearing on our overall operation? Emergency level one at that? I'm with Raiz; this is wholly preposterous. If you can't put forth a proper basis for your actions, know that I'll be the one using my veto right. Raiz needn't bother himself with the paperwork."

I turn my head to watch Maro closely. Oh, I do look forward to seeing how you'll weasel your way out of Leario's veto. Maro, you've screwed up big time. Level one is reserved for matters concerning the syndicate's imminent destruction.

Maro continues staring at our liaison.

"My vice-guard authority was given to me by the guard captain herself earlier today. I was a nobody in this organization before she did. The reason I called you all here is because I fear she may have promoted me on purpose. In hindsight, her actions with regard to the dragon were very helpful to our plans. Especially how she allowed the leaders to go back to their daily tasks WITHOUT the bulk of the city guard."

Maro takes a deep but quiet breath.

I frown slightly. That's not enough, Maro. You must know that's not enough.

"Then, the dragon conveniently pops out and slaughters our troops; specifically the ones attacking her. And, let me ask you all— how... Did the dragon know where she was?"

My jaw drops.

No, I had overlooked this too. How...?

I abruptly fix my complexion. As leader of the syndicate, I must maintain the appearance of control even if this isn't going how I thought it would. Now, as for the dragon.

How in the world did it go straight to her side? Even if we assume it was versed in magic, we've had an anti-magic barrier up for hours. It shouldn't have known, unless— unless they decided where to meet beforehand.

Per my expectations, I look around and see most of the executives wearing shocked and concerned looks. Hrm.

Does this mean we fell into a trap? A trap set by a dragon, of all things? Is that... Possible?

A woman wearing a black and red monster leather coat waves her hand at me. I nod.

Reinor. What've you got for us, Reinor?

"I propose that it slaughtered whoever was closest, the moment the city guard left the area. I do not contest your use of emergency level one, as if what you say is true, our situation does appear quite dire. But random chance is not a factor we can overlook. The question now is whether it'll continue to attack or leave."

That's true. Good points, Reinor. She continues.

"We'll soon know based on its behavior; assuming it behaves anything like a typical dragon. We leave it alone, it goes to lick whatever wounds our deceased team managed to inflict. We piss it off, maybe it keeps attacking. But it already killed everyone over there, according to what you're saying, so there's no reason for it to be angry. It should simply leave."

I couldn't agree more. I glance at Leario, who gives me a slight nod.

Maro, you brought us good intel, and high-risk intel at that. You deserve a reward.

I intentionally speak in an even and commanding voice.

"I also do not contest Maro's use of emergency level one. We've taken down every big figure in the city, now we have the entire executive team focused on the next potential problem. You've kept the gears of our political machine spinning cleanly, Maro. Everyone in favor of Maro's motion to shift to dealing with the dragon, say 'aye.'"

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Nay."

"Aye."

"Ay—urk"

Suddenly. I feel like my heart is being crushed. I look up. Everyone else evidently feels the same pressure.

Then.

‡‡‡‡SKREOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRR‡‡‡‡

...

----skreoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrr----

...

{~~~skreoooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrr~~~}

(tssshhhhshshhhhhhhhhhhh)

The next thing I know, I'm on the ground.

No, I didn't pass out. I innately felt it. My body submitted to whatever... THAT... Was.

Was that the dragon? Dragons... They don't sound like that. They're loud. But— cutting Mana? Making the body of a trained professional submit? Is that even possible? I'm forced to admit it is; it just happened.

I shakily stand back up and look around.

...

Several executives are passed out or otherwise slumped over. Only Leario recovered faster than I did.

Which directly infers: if that dragon... Or whatever it is, comes over here?

We don't have the manpower to survive.

Not even close.