In a dimly lit room, the B10 gathered around a wide, circular table, their faces lined with tension. It was rare for them to meet so frequently within a short period, and the urgency was palpable. The faint murmur of impatient voices was interrupted by a booming voice, grumbling, "We've been having these meetings far too often lately." The speaker's voice echoed through the room, laced with frustration.
Another voice chimed in, a woman's tone sharp and suspicious, "Who called the meeting this time?"
A figure at the head of the table stepped forward—it was the Head General. His face was calm but intense, his eyes sharp under his stern brow. "I called it," he said, a hint of irony in his voice. "It's not like I called because I missed you or anything," he added dryly, prompting a few raised brows and murmurs of surprise. "Something urgent has come up."
