Some would say the Capital is beautiful. A place where potential is realized, and where the young and reckless are molded into incredible soldiers. They would say it's the heart and soul of the empire. They truly believe that this is a good thing; they think the emperor has everyone's best interests in mind.

Then there are those who would say the exact opposite. Those would call the Capital a disgusting place, crawling with imperial filth. Those who claim it to be a brainwashing center, not changing people for the better, but manipulating them until they forget the truth. Those who are certain that the emperor is a parasite that needs to be exterminated.

The first group can be classified as loyalists. The second as rebels. It's purely up to you to decide who you support. But it would be fairer if you were to see each and every side of this story. I suppose this can only start with a loyalist, and a rather high-ranking one too.

And so it begins.

Duncan Porter stood in front of the legion of soldiers. His face was completely unreadable as his cruel blue eyes passed over the crowd. He could feel each and every person stiffen under his scrutiny. Most radiated fear. They were trembling; some even appeared to have wet their pants. Others exuded a facade of calm, though behind their blank faces you could see the panic in their eyes. And a very select few seemed completely unconcerned. They watched him carefully, ready to take orders, knowing better than to question his motives.

Behind Duncan were two other men. The first was a blonde man. He had almost wavy blonde hair that was slightly longer than protocol. His eyes were the color of the ocean and showed something that was almost rare in those trying times: joy. He displayed no clear emotion, but you could almost sense a smile. He wore a camouflage jumpsuit, just like every other soldier, but the difference was that his had a small silver pin on the left pectoral. This indicated his rather high rank as Duncan's lieutenant.

The second man was almost similar in appearance, but his attitude was the complete opposite. His hair was a crew cut, as the military demanded, but was a brilliant orange. He had fair skin, which was scattered with freckles. His eyes were a cobalt blue. In those eyes was something bad. It might've been pride, or even some level of stupidity, but it was definitely not good. Whatever that negative thing was, he oozed it. There was no joy, only a lust for power present in his features. He seemed almost... dangerous. Like the first man, he wore a camouflage jumpsuit. And, like the first man, he had a silver pin on his left pectoral.

Out of the three of them, though, Duncan's appearance was honestly the most shocking. He was incredibly pale, as if he had never seen the light of day. His eyes, as mentioned before, were as cold as ice. They showed no fear, no anger, no anything. He was completely expressionless. He had a thick black unibrow that was utterly straight. It didn't help to determine his mood at all. The truly stunning part about Duncan was his hair. If the first lieutenant was breaking protocol, then Duncan should've been escorted out of the base immediately. The majority of his thick, naturally dark hair had been shaved off. Now there was just a strip of hair still standing up in the middle. The truly atrocious part, however, was the color. It had been tampered with and was now... green. The practice of dying one's hair was hardly ever used, and was an outlandish thing to do. Had it been anyone else, there would've been hell to pay. But seeing as it was Duncan...

"Alright, cadets." Duncan barked suddenly, startling the poor individuals. "You've made it past boot camp. Congrats. But don't you dare celebrate yet." He added as he saw smiles begin to break out. "Because THAT was not the hard part. Trust me, cadets. By the end of all this, you will WISH you had dropped out in boot camp. It's still a long way until you get to be called 'private'."

A shiver went over the crowd. Smiles slid off of faces. A few worried murmurs broke out. Duncan looked satisfied by this reaction.

"Scared?" He sounded mocking. "You should be." He tilted his chin up arrogantly. "But lucky for you... you've been assigned to MY unit. For those of you that didn't pay attention in school, there are two units. Mine... and my partner's. Trust me when I say that you would much rather have me."

He could hear several people gulp. He had a feeling they had not wanted to be assigned to him. But they were stuck with him now.

"Do you see these two men behind me?" The green-haired man asked, gesturing to the mentioned. "Their names are Geoff," he pointed to the blonde one, "and Scott." He jabbed his thumb at the ginger. "But you will always call them 'sir'. They are my lieutenants."

Geoff and Scott nodded, reserved, at the soldiers.

"This means that they are the two people that are not only ranked above you, but have almost as much say as I do when it comes to your assignments. I trust them with my life, and if they tell you to do something... you will do it. Otherwise I will take it personally. Understood?"

A chorus of "sir, yes sir!" made its way through the crowd.

Suddenly, a hand shot up. Duncan cocked half of his eyebrow. "Apparently this is now primary school." He sounded thoroughly amused. "Yes?"

The person in question was a boy on the edge of gangly. He had a goofy smile, and a dumb glint to his eye. His chestnut hair was longer than it should've been which, except in Geoff's case, always irritated Duncan. "Uh, yeah, sir? I, like, thought you had three lieutenants."

A few nods of agreement and curious expressions were spotted among the rank. Everyone seemed confused except Geoff and Scott, who tensed up, exchanging nervous glances.

"What's your name, cadet?" Duncan questioned, crossing his arms. His eyes narrowed a little as he took in the boy.

"Tyler Stevens, sir."

"Okay, Stevens. You're completely right."

Tyler beamed eagerly.

"I do have a third lieutenant. But see, that lieutenant wasn't completely loyal. He disobeyed a direct order and almost got a man killed." Duncan began walking towards Tyler, ignoring the gasps of the crowd. "And that... is inexcusable. I don't care what your rank or title." He was making his way through the ranks and was only a mere twenty feet from Tyler now. "If you disobey a direct order from your superior, you will be punished." He was upon the cadet. "Same goes for QUESTIONING your superior." He poked Tyler in the chest, causing the boy to wince. "Any more QUESTIONS, Stevens?" He drawled, stepping back.

The soldier was as white as a bed-sheet as he shook his rapidly head. "N-N-No, sir."

"Didn't think so." He turned and paced back to stand by his lieutenants. "However, since you seem so concerned about him, then I suppose you should know that Trent will be here tomorrow. I didn't kill him. Not yet."

"Thank y-you, sir."

"Now, as I was saying. These two, three if you count Trent, will each be responsible for a group of you. You will end up training with one of them. They will be your commanding officers. I will NOT be training you. I'm only here to supervise. Kapeesh?"

"Sir, yes sir!" They answered back without hesitation.

"Good. You'll be divided tomorrow. For now, return to your cabins. You need to get all your preparations done today... because tomorrow," he smirked, and for a second he looked like an insane criminal, "we have some fun." He watched their reactions for a second. "Dismissed!" He shouted.

They saluted as a unit before filing out of the courtyard. He watched them go, satisfied.

"So, where is Trent exactly?" Geoff questioned as soon as the area was cleared.

Duncan turned to face his friend. "He's spending the day with Owen. I was showing him what his future could be if he continues to break my rules."

"The day with the dungeon-keeper. Harsh." Geoff nodded approvingly.

The man with the mohawk shrugged. "Eh. It'll keep him in his place. That's the important part."

"He should've known better." Scott agreed. He rubbed his right leg bitterly. "I'm still walking with a limp."

"Don't be a sissy, Scott. It was just a spear." Duncan grinned devilishly. "But refresh my memory... exactly which one of us was claiming to be the 'rebel destroyer' at the time?" He snorted. "You sure destroyed them."

The ginger sighed. "Very funny." He said, resigned.

"He's got a point, bro." Geoff laughed.

Duncan chuckled. Around the soldiers Geoff and Scott were nothing more than his lieutenants. But behind the scenes, it did go deeper than that. They were his closest, and really only, friends. He didn't have many real allies in his line of work, let alone friends.

"Whatever!" Scott huffed. "That's beyond the point. The point is..." He trailed off.

"You don't even remember anymore, do you?" Geoff snickered.

Scott reddened. "Shuddup, Geoff..." He muttered, embarrassed.

"We were talking about Trent's stay in the dungeon, remember, knuckleheads?" Duncan chided. "Pay attention for once."

"That's right!" Scott's face lit up. "The point is that I think Trent deserves his stay in the pits. I think he's lucky to keep his position at all."

Geoff cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? Because... if I remember right, he didn't want the position to begin with."

"He didn't." Duncan confirmed. "I convinced him to change his mind."

"You mean you blackmailed him." Scott raised an orange eyebrow, though he sounded almost happy about it.

The other lieutenant's blue eyes widened. He shook his head at his ginger counterpart, who completely ignored him. The leader crossed his arms.

"Same thing." Duncan shrugged, his eyes flashing.

"Not really. Convinced. Blackmailed. I think they're a lot different, actually. Both effective, yeah, but on a moral level..."

Geoff face-palmed.

"Same. Thing." Duncan asserted again, anger beginning to color his features.

Scott was clueless. "Not really-" he began again.

Geoff sighed.

"SHUT UP." Duncan grabbed the scruff of his lieutenant's shirt, causing him to gulp. "Whose side are you ON?" He hissed.

"Y-Yours, man, take it easy." Scott stammered fearfully.

"Doesn't seem like it." Duncan spat, releasing his teammate. Feeling betrayed, he turned his back to the two and stalked towards the exit.

"Where're you going, bro?" The blonde man shouted after him.

"None of your damn business!" He yelled, slamming the door behind him.

The green-haired military official stormed through the halls. He was practically radiating rage. Everyone he passed shuddered. His blue eyes blazed with fury. Each step was loud, echoing through the military base. A few men who spotted him saluted weakly before scampering away. Most, however, just squeaked and fled. Ordinarily, he wouldn't blame them, but he was too busy seeing red to think about how he was coming across. "Next person to gape at me is going to lose their arm!" He bellowed.

Everyone seemed to swallow as a unit, rapidly averting their gazes. It was clear that they were all just wondering what anyone could've done to make Duncan this angry. He was normally fairly level-headed. Though, to be honest, Duncan hardly knew what he was so mad about. Yes, Scott had called him out for blackmailing Trent. There had been no malicious intent. It wasn't like Geoff hadn't known about it. Really, there shouldn't have been a problem.

But there was. The sad truth was... it had made him feel small. Scott had blatantly pointed out his mistakes. Nobody did that. Duncan was used to giving orders and being treated like he was above everyone else. He wasn't used to his own lieutenant straight-up mentioning one of his errors. It had made him lose his feeling of control; a feeling that Duncan needed more than anything else.

Taking a deep breath, Duncan knew exactly who he needed to talk to. He rounded a corner and began heading to the courtyard on the opposite side of the building. He picked up his pace, praying that no one saw him coming this way. He was supposed to stay on his side of the base, with his troops. The B Class. Of course, he never told them that they were the second rates. But they were. His partner led the A Class.

Rumors flew around his relationship with his partner. An intense rivalry, a bitter hatred, you name it. They were supposed to despise each other. They were supposed to be more competitive than any other team had ever been. But only part of that was really true.

He burst into the courtyard. There stood a girl whose skin was paler than a piece of parchment. Her brown eyes were so dark that they could be mistaken for black. She wore the camouflage uniform like everyone else, but hers had a pin identical to Duncan's: the purest gold with the word 'general' written on it in slanting cursive. Her hair, like his, was the shocking part about her. Her hair was just above shoulder-length. But, of course, the color was the noteworthy part. It was inky, with blue, maybe turquoise, highlights. She was the only person in the entire empire who had dyed her hair, spare for Duncan. Just like the other general, she broke protocol with her appearance, and people just accepted it.

Her eyes met his and he felt his anger melt away. It was replaced with a familiar, comforting feeling.

"Hey sis."