Elizabeth Wallace

With the attack on the Iron Turtle, the council has been up and arms about how something like this could have happened. The chairman called all the Generals back to the main base in Berlin. The dozens of brick buildings were neatly organized to allow easy access in case of another invasion. Almost eighty years ago, before the formation of Jager, Europe was invaded by giant insects, which we dubbed “the Hive.” 

So we created three main bases, one in London where the council members, who are leaders from around the world, go to meet and discuss orders. One in Berlin, where the chairman and the generals hang out when not on a mission or giving orders. Finally, one in Nairobi, where we make weapons and or Xcom suits. 

I walked into the main building of the base, which had a wolf with an eyepatch on it plastered on the front of it. The inside was nothing out of the ordinary, just a long hallway with eight different rooms, each radiating mana as the outline of the other continents was on the steel doors. Near the end of the hall was a door with the globe on it. 

I opened the door to a room that had an oval table with seven seats going around it. While in front of the table was a desk that already had an occupant. The Chairman looked at me. His dark brown eyes glared, already hardening his dark complexion. His expression softened, and a smile formed when he noticed my presence. 

“Ah, Elizabeth, how are you?” he asked, his deep voice beating my chest like a drum. 

“I’m fine, Chairman; it was a long journey from the Iron Turtle,” I said while sitting in one of the chairs at the oval table. 

“Speaking of which, how is the Iron Turtle?” 

“Good Ivan is in charge of rebuilding the destroyed buildings.”

The door opened, interrupting our conversation; General Justin Nemitz and General Billy Burner walked in. Justin had short brown hair neatly combed to the right side of his head, and his brown eyes had dark bags underneath them. Meanwhile, Billy's fiery hair was all over the place, like he was just woken up. His eyes are full of life compared to Nemitz's.

“Good afternoon Elizabeth; how was the trip?” Justin asked, his voice a tired whisper

“It was long and had a long night, I see,” I teased.

“I had to deal with this idiot all night,” he said while sitting beside me.

“What do you mean, idiot? I'm one of the smartest generals," Billy said with his country accent on full display.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” I said.

Billy stuck his tongue out like some toddler, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Five minutes later, the door opened again and revealed General Montes short-statured. Montes was on the phone speaking Portuguese, his tone sharp, and his hazel eyes narrowed when he hung up after sitting next to Billy. 

“The hell you're mad for, youngling?” Billy asked. 

“My familia is driving me crazy,” Montes replied, “and I told you not to call me youngling.”

“Not gonna happen until you get a nasty scar like Justin,” 

Justin's eyes sharpened, and he rubbed the left side of his chest. Fifteen more minutes and General Oda and General Kenyatta walked in. Oda’s gray eyes immediately landed on me, and my teeth grinded against one another. General Kenyatta stayed silent. He looked similar to the chairman but younger. 

“Where’s Jordan?” the chairman asked.

“No idea, sir,” Kenyatta replied. 

“Probably out getting drunk,” Oda said with his Japanese accent. 

“Well, I’m going to dock his pay for the next three months,” the chairman said while standing and holding a piece of paper, “Anyways, let’s start the meeting.” 

“First, the council is worried that one of the training bases could be infiltrated so easily. They want to increase security on all bases until noted otherwise. Now, most importantly, General Elizabeth has some news to report.” 

“Yes, chairman, so while the Iron Turtle was under attack, there was one officer named Ren Vespean, whose body is currently trying to form a core,” I reported 

The rest of the general's face tightened at my words. This was expected, especially with Justin, who clenched his shirt harder. 

“With this revelation, I proposed letting him live and have him use divine weapons DWS-8 and DWP-8.” I continued 

The room erupted as Billy, Oda, and Montes started to call me crazy and asked if I was high on some form of substance. While Justin tried to calm them down, Kenyatta stayed silent. 

“Elizabeth, I don’t know what type of drugs you took, but letting a potential monster live is just idiotic,” Billy said, his tone losing its playfulness. 

“I say we turn him into a weapon and give it to the top trainees,” Oda suggested.

“I second that, or how about we just kill him,” Montes interjected.

I felt my fist clench as they continue not to understand the importance of possibly being able to have core and understand mana more. 

“But, if he can form a core, then maybe we all can,” I told them.

“Why the hell do we need a core for?” Billy said, “do you think we’re not strongest to defend our homes?” 

“That's not what I said,” I snapped, “we can't have another calamity like what happened in India!”

The room paused at the mention of the “March of Death.” their anger flared, especially the stoic Kenyatta whose eyes narrowed as he stood up. 

“Enough, everyone!” the Chairman roared, “Listen, Elizabeth, I appreciate your drive to further our advancement in mana, but we can’t let him run around. What if he turns out to be a national threat.” 

“I already have a plan, chairman. We put restraints on his suit, reducing his mana output to fifty percent max,” I said.

“This is already a bad idea,” Oda said, getting up from his seat and walking to the door, “you’re going to cause the very thing you’re trying to prevent.” 

The rest of the meeting was me telling the chairman my plan so the council could approve it. The autumn air allowed me to cool down from the ignorance of the others. They talk about how fine we are, but a monster almost killed me. I walked to the armory, which was south of the base, close to the open field of the German countryside. Inside the arsenal were weapons in reinforced glass cases like a museum piece.  

I walked down a staircase to a basement lit up by dim lights. The air was denser down here than the surface as a door with fangs and wings glowed a blood red. 

“Elizabeth!” 

I turned to see Justin behind me, his eyes flicking between me and the top of the staircase. 

“You know the chairman forbids us from coming here,” he whispered.

“It’s fine. He's a family friend; he won’t do anything,” I replied 

“But still, the council would-”

“The council won't do anything,” I said while opening the door. 

A rush of mana crashed into us like a wave of water before calming down. The room was dark except for the single light shined on the case that wasn’t glass like the others but still that read, DWS-8, and DWP-8 do not touch. I walked over to the case; my hands shook as I tried to touch it, but a small voice told me not to come closer. 

“Elizabeth, I don’t like this feeling. The mana is weeping.” Justin said from a distance. 

As Generals, our bodies became sensitive to the mana around us, so my body felt the mana shake violently around the weapon. For some reason, I felt anger and sadness coming off the weapon. The monsters it was made of must have died with strong emotions, we left the armory, but uneasiness didn’t leave me. 

“Elizabeth, do you think it’s okay for us to use this weapon?” Justin asked.

“Do we really have a choice?” I said, “I'm afraid another calamity is on the horizon. 

Ren Vespean POV

A bright light flashed as a sharp metallic object tore into my skin. My body before a group of hands held me into place. 

“Hold him still. I need to do more research,” a familiar voice said. 

A hoarse scream escaped my voice. I thrashed around, fighting the hands that held me down with more force than a normal human. My mind flashed to the barracks and saw General Wallace in the rubble of the living room. My heart raced. 

My eyes adjusted to the light, and several officers held me to a metal table while Dr.Kirk, with blood on his science jacket and gloves. I ripped my right arm from one of the officers and punched the one on my left side. I jumped from the table and looked around the room as to what was happening. 

The lap had several surgical tables with an almost scary white room, with the only color being red from the table. Two more officers came into the room with rifles pointing at me and their fingers on the trigger. 

“Stand down!” one of the officers orders, as a slight aura of green light came off the barrels of their rifles. 

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” Dr.Kirk ordered, but several shots rang out. 

The cold floor was soothing compared to the extreme burning sensation that filled the inside of my body and the world unfocused. Dr.Kirk was shouting and lifting me back up to the table. 

He worked on my body with urgency before he stopped and smiled. I didn’t know why until I felt the burning sensation fade and the pain I felt being lifted. My heart rate increased as the world sharpened and my senses heightened to an unnatural degree. 

“Incredible, his healing is that of a monster,” I heard one of the officers say. 

I turned to Dr.Kirk, and my eyes narrowed on his fragile build. He quickly wrote something in a notebook. 

“Before I lose my shit, what is happening?” I asked as I finally came down from the rush of adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry, Ren, but General Wallace wanted me to test your healing while she is gone.” Dr.Kirk explained while adjusting his glasses. 

“Well, what happened to the Iron turtle?” 

“Don’t worry. The Iron turtle is safe, with few casualties.”

My shoulders sagged as I relived that the base was safe, but looking around at the officers who now had guns pointing at me. I turned back to the doctor as he was checking his phone. 

“Can you tell them to stand down?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, I can not since the council is currently debating on whether you should live.” Dr.Kirk answered unfazed. 

“What do you mean whether I should live?” 

“You are currently ordered to be executed based on being a mana beast.” He repeated as he packed up his tools. 

I just stared at the doctor, who was about to walk out the door, before his phone rang. My heart skipped a beat as the soldiers readied their weapons.

“Hello,” he said after picking up; silence filled the room for a few seconds. 

He nodded, hung up the phone, and continued walking out the door. The soldiers and I looked at each other, confused about what had just happened.

“What was that?” I asked, chasing after him.

“Your execution is being postponed until further notice, so you’re in luck,” he responded, not even looking back at me.