Beagle stood among her fellow operators, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, trying to quell the unease twisting in her stomach. The seminar room was packed, a low hum of conversation buzzing through the air as everyone awaited Kal'tsit's arrival. She glanced around, noting the varied expressions on her comrades' faces—curiosity, trepidation, determination. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
Kal'tsit entered the room with her usual air of authority, her presence immediately commanding silence. She wasted no time in launching into the day's topic: abnormalities and their threat levels. Beagle's heart pounded in her chest as the screen behind Kal'tsit flickered to life, displaying the stark, unnerving images of the Mountain of Smiling Bodies.
Kal'tsit's voice was steady, clinical. "Abnormalities are classified into five threat levels: Zayin, Teth, He, Waw, and Aleph. Each level indicates the potential danger and difficulty in managing these entities."
As she spoke, footage of the abnormality in action played out on the screen. Beagle watched, horrified yet mesmerized, as the monstrous conglomeration of corpses moved with a grotesque fluidity, its many mouths opening in silent screams. The containment cell footage was equally disturbing—an oppressive, writhing mass that seemed barely contained by the reinforced walls.
"The Mountain of Smiling Bodies is classified as an Aleph-level threat," Kal'tsit continued. "It represents the highest level of danger, capable of causing massive casualties if not properly contained."
Beagle's breath hitched as Kal'tsit transitioned to another topic: the phenomenon called the "Light." The screen now showed ethereal, glowing rings encircling Roland's weapons, the light casting a foreboldingly bright glow.
"The Light is akin to a living noospheric disturbance," Kal'tsit explained. "It heightens emotions, potentially inducing what is called Distortion or E.G.O."
Distortion, E.G.O—terms that sounded almost mystical, yet here they were, part of the grim reality they faced. Beagle could hardly wrap her mind around it.
Kal'tsit's announcement of new departments only added to Beagle's growing bewilderment. The suppression department, led by Roland, would handle abnormalities and distortion-related affairs in the field. The containment department would manage captured entities, and the department of welfare would conduct psychological examinations. Kal'tsit also mentioned ongoing research into potential therapeutic uses of extracted Enkephalin and the infusion of weapons with abnormality essence.
Beagle's mind reeled. Suppression, containment, psychologically magical Light—these were realms she hadn't imagined she'd be involved in when she joined Rhodes Island. Her duty as a defender felt suddenly insignificant against the backdrop of these grand, terrifying responsibilities. The room buzzed with murmurs as the operators processed the information. Beagle could hear snippets of conversation, a mix of apprehension and curiosity.
...
The clang of metal and the hum of machinery filled the air as Roland watched Ace and Scout pry open a battered, ancient vending machine. The corridor around them was dimly lit, the overhead lights casting long shadows. The scent of rust and stale air mixed with the faint tang of old oil.
"Got it," Ace grunted, his muscles straining as he forced the door open. Inside, amidst a jumble of expired snacks and drinks, he triumphantly pulled out a dusty can of beer. "Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like I won our bet."
Scout scowled good-naturedly. "Fine, fine. You win this round." He glanced at Roland. "Hey, Roland, how about a challenge? Ever thought of racing Logos to a stool once he gets back from Kazdel?"
Roland chuckled, shaking his head. "No thanks. I've got enough on my plate with that report on abnormality work protocols. Besides, I need to nominate a few candidates for the new departm-"
Ace slapped Roland on the back, his laughter echoing down the hall. "Relax, we've still got a few more days until we reach Wolumonde. Take it easy for a while. Even Flamebringer's indulging in his gardening hobby instead of looking for more fights."
Roland's gaze softened, a rare smile on his unmasked face. "Mmh. I had thought about writing a book. About what I'd seen of the City and its people. Though I gave up 'cause I had no talent in writing whatsoever… My writing was just too crude. I couldn't show it to anyone."
Ace's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "I'd love to give it a read anyway. And who knows? Maybe it's not as bad as you think."
Scout nodded in agreement. "I'll help out and edit it in my free time. We could make it a project."
Roland felt a warmth spread through him, a strange but welcome sensation, something he thought he wouldn't experience again. Maybe, just maybe, there was room for more than just survival, duty and violence in his life.