"ARRGH!"
A heart-wrenching scream echoed through the dim corridors of the Hawkin Group Headquarters as a pale steel sword plunged deep into someone's chest, followed by horrified, grief-stricken cries from a few elites clad in black.
"Commander Feather!!"
"Sir Feather!!" the former Chaos elites exclaimed almost in unison.
Never had they expected to witness the fall of their mighty vice commander—now their acknowledged commander.
The man had been a steel fortress for them, a bastion of both physical and mental fortitude—a mighty warrior of unmatched ferocity and stoicism.
He had barely lost, even against the likes of Chaos and Cobra, and was stronger than most commanders.
Feather had also once been offered the chance to lead his own unit, but he rejected it, insisting that his bonds with his commander, the captains under him, and his elites already ran too deep.
