The rise of the unorthodox

At the military headquarters in the capital, nine individuals sat at a large round table. Each chair was numbered up to ten, though only nine were occupied at the moment.

The room was dead silent as the group waited for the final member to arrive: chair one.

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and a tall silhouette appeared. He was a massive figure, with black hair, deep green eyes, and tanned skin that spoke of years spent under the sun. His presence was commanding, and with every step he took, the tension in the room thickened.

The man approached chair one and sat down with deliberate calm. His deep, raspy voice echoed through the room. "May the first round table meeting of this year begin."

The man in seat one was General Dane, the oldest and most experienced of the round table members—and by far the strongest.

He leaned forward and began, "I'm sure you all know why this meeting is being called earlier than usual, but I'll say it again. There's been a disturbing rise in monster attacks. This is more than we've ever seen. What's worse is these creatures are growing stronger, and those capable of reproduction are doing so at an alarming rate. If any of you have suggestions on how we can counter this, now's the time to speak up."

Commander Harlow, seated in chair number five, spoke first, her voice steady. "We do what we've always done—intensify training and develop technology."

Harlow, at just 25 years old, had made quite a name for herself, particularly for her impressive monster kills. Her tall stature, blonde hair, and piercing green eyes made her stand out as much as her achievements. For someone her age to sit at the round table was a massive accomplishment.

Before anyone could respond, Commander Ambrose, seated in chair number four, sneered. "It seems talent can never substitute for experience. If you had as much as half the experience of the people in this room, you'd know that's standard procedure. To spare you more embarrassment, I'd suggest you keep quiet."

Harlow shot him a sharp look but chose not to respond. She wasn't in the mood for his sarcasm.

The meeting continued, the group debating strategies to deal with the rising threat of monsters. They agreed that numbers were key—recruiting more soldiers was their best shot at gaining the upper hand.

Two hours of heated discussion passed before Commander Kasper, sitting in chair number ten, spoke up.

"What if we host a contest in the military schools? We have hundreds of training centers across the country, and it could be a way to scout potential recruits and bring them into the army sooner."

The room fell silent. Kasper was the weakest member of the group, but his idea had merit. After a moment, General Dane hummed thoughtfully.

"This could go two ways," he said, his voice contemplative. "More deaths on our hands, or the advantage we need. It's not something we can decide lightly."

The group continued to debate, weighing the risks and rewards. After five hours of deliberation, a decision was finally made.

"Five months from today, a competition to select potential army candidates will be held," General Dane announced. "Be cautious with this information. Meeting adjourned."

Back at the military base, I walked aimlessly, bored out of my mind. All my classes were finished for the day, and I was too worn out to train.

Delight and I had been working on our synergy as a team lately. It was fun, but she tired out quickly.

I made my way to the roof of one of the school buildings, seeking some peace and quiet. I perched myself on the ledge, letting the cool breeze wash over me. It felt good to just breathe and take in the view.

But, as always, my peace didn't last long.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" a voice called from behind me.

I sighed, annoyed. "Great," I muttered under my breath. I turned to see who had interrupted me.

Standing in the doorway was a boy with curly blonde hair, deep red eyes, and pale skin. His body was lean, almost swimmer-like, and for a moment, he reminded me of Devin—but he seemed less obnoxious.

"Hello, you're Beatrix, right?" he asked, flashing me a wide grin.

I raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. "How do you know me?"

"Woah, woah, crazy hair lady," he chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Take a chill pill. I've seen you around in classes. Just thought you seemed cool. Wanted to see if we could be friends."

He stretched his hand out toward me with an infectious smile.

I wasn't convinced. "How did you know I was here?" I asked, still eyeing him warily.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, I know it sounds weird, but I saw you come up here and followed you," he admitted sheepishly.

I scrunched up my nose at him. "Dude, that's creepy." Then I couldn't help myself—I burst out laughing.

He laughed too, unfazed. His hand was still extended, waiting for me to take it.

I shook my head but reached out and grabbed his hand, returning the handshake. "Alright, Mathew," I said with a grin. "Let's see where this goes."