I sat in my office, passing time like usual. I'd watch the clock for ten minutes, then my stare at the completed papers on my desk for another ten. That was my daily cycle. Being at this position in the military meant having more free time and less labor. But these days, I'd been having too much free time.
I sighed. "When will I get the chance to prove why I'm where I am today?" I closed my eyes and envisioned it, the battlefield: a vast landscape with soldiers and Angels scattered across, running, or a secluded ruined city with craters around every corner. The enemy would be an opposing country, or even a terrorist organization. I'd command the Angels to take up their positions—the formations I'd been rehearsing in the simulations. If the attack were all-out, I'd start by sending small groups to the frontlines, out in the open. They'd easily be contested, but it didn't matter, they were a distraction for the true assault: the larger groups flanking past enemy-sights. By the time the enemy could realize it, I'd have all grounds covered with my Angels behind their positions. Then, victory would be in my grasp. The Angels with their advanced battle-suits would maneuver through the crowds of enemies, eliminating each and every one of them, leaving just a few for interrogation.
I sighed again. "When will a day like that come?!" I looked back at my clock, realizing I'd taken an extra ten minutes just from daydreaming. It wasn't unusual. At least half of my day was spent daydreaming on what could be, or what I believed should be.
The phone on my desk suddenly rung.
"Wha—?!?" I nearly fell back in my chair. Two years I'd been in the position, and it was the first time my office ever received a call. I erratically regathered myself, composed myself, and picked up the phone with anticipation.
"H-Hello?"
"Rainer."
"Yes…?"
"It's Michael."
My stomach dropped. I was on the phone with the general himself. General Michael, one of the four Overseers that led A.X.A., and the one in charge of A.X.A.'s military.
"Y-Yes sir!"
"There will be a conference held in the Tenfold meeting room tomorrow afternoon, 7:00 PM sharp. Be there."
The stern voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck. "Y-Yes sir!" But the mystery of the topic intrigued me. "If you don't mind me asking sir, what is the conference for?"
General Michael grunted. "I'm inviting all the leading commanders of Tenfold's lower six infantries. That means the leader of the Tenth, the Ninth, the Eighth, the Seventh, the Sixth, and you, the leader of the Fifth. Details about the conference itself will only be spoken inside the meeting room, and will stay within the meeting room."
"Yes sir!" I understood immediately.
"Good." And just like that, he hung up. No goodbye, and no salutation of any sort. General Michael was the most straight-forward you could possibly get. If he wanted something, he got it. He never made his way around things. He would always plow directly through, right in the center. Brute force was his main approach. With that being said, I felt honored he called me directly. I was already writing down what he'd told me: "Tenfold meeting room at 7:00 PM sharp. IMPORTANT." I highlighted the word.
I felt rejuvenated. This was the feeling I'd been looking for—the feeling that arose when he gave me an objective: the feeling to fulfill. And I was excited more than anything. From the way he spoke, it sounded serious, though the general made everything he spoke about sound serious due to his tone. Nonetheless, he emphasized that the meeting's details could only be shared within the room. That alone was enough to intrigue me. And all the other leaders of the lower six Tenfold infantries would be there too, meaning I was going to be the highest rank present.
"Interesting…" I wondered why he chose to invite only the lower six of the Tenfold, and not include the upper four? I would find out soon, tomorrow, at 7:00 PM sharp.