The remaining masses of strategists and officials had gathered at Tamara Palace. For today would be the final day to prepare before they would depart to the battle's destination.
Recognizable faces entered the Council of Cravolta's conference room one after the other, though a majority were not even council members.
Our fateful four walked to the doors all the same. Hotaru carried the utensils befitting of a 'temporary' royal advisor. "Woah, woah, you're not allowed in here anymore," Fumeko halted.
Asobi's eyes bubbled, "Huh? Why!?"
"Not after your great military failure Asobi," Jotou placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, you must atone for that."
Asobi grasped her own face, whimpering, "I'm, so, sorry…"
Fumeko crossed her arms, "We're still doing this?"
"You're right, this's just cruel now," Hotaru sighed. "Asobi?" Asobi turned to the redhead. "There are no sandy ducks."
