Chapter 3 - Dramatic

🔥 Scene: War Room – Moments Later

The air, once heavy with quiet, now burst into frantic chatter.

Holograms refreshed.

Data streamed through the air.

Commanders huddled over one another—discussing the Zoron debacle, dissecting every loss, every miscalculation.

Then—

A soft yawn sounded through the great hall.

A young soldier sat up straight—having slept the entire time since the meeting started.

Only now did his eyes open.

Only now had he been hearing the words:

"Let's focus on the real problem: the catastrophe of Zorons."

"Everyone—ask your questions. One at a time."

"No more ego. No more blood."

"This meeting is beginning now."

He relaxed his arms.

Half-closed eyes. Dry voice. Measured.

[Mixed-Blood Soldier]

"Do you have even the slightest idea what kind of beings they are?"

"What they appear like?"

"I believe that's the most urgent question to ask."

Brief silence.

Then—Zenix nodded, actually impressed.

[Zenix]

"Well. you're correct. We have—"

Abruptly—

A voice interrupted harshly throughout the room.

Disgust dripping from each syllable.

[Soldier – Task Force 2A]

"Wait! Zenix... why is a filthy mix-blooded outcast even allowed in this room?"

"We can't leak essential intel in front of something like him."

"This is a disgrace—not just to the four higher-ups. but to me."

"Especially since I'm soon to be Commander of Task Force 2A."

The room froze.

The insult hung heavy.

Everyone knew the truth:

The Gardosnis empire despised other species.

But being half-Gardosnis?

That was worse than being a "dirty alien."

A sign of uncleanliness.

An indelible mark.

All eyes on the young soldier—

The lone mix-blood in the whole war room.

And yet—

He didn't wince.

Didn't stand up.

Didn't growl back.

He just stared at the 2A soldier... and smiled.

[Mixed-Blood Soldier] (softly)

"It's always the ones with titles they haven't earned. that talk the loudest."

[Task Force 2A Soldier]

"WHAT did you just say to me—!"

[Zendor] (bellowing)

"SILENCE."

The floor trembled.

Zendor stood again, glaring between the two men.

[Zendor]

"He's here with my permission."

"Say another word, 2A—and you'll be explaining your remarks without a jaw."

[Pedro] (smiling)

"Let him speak. The boy's got teeth. We could use more of those."

[Nerile] (grinning, tipping her head)

"A mixed-blood with sense? My stars, how the galaxy turns..."

[Pilos] (quietly)

"Enough."

"This gathering is about survival—not bloodlines."

He stood locked eyes with the mixed-blood warrior.

[Pilos]

"Ask your question again. Clearly."

[Mixed-Blood Soldier] (voice firm, clearer now)

"My question remains."

"Do we actually know what these Zorons look like?"

"Has anyone here seen them—and lived?"

A long silence.

Even Zendor didn't say anything.

Everyone looked to Zenix—

The one with the records. The data. The visual logs.

[Zenix] (serious now)

"We've never gotten an image of the Zorons. Every recording device fails around them. Every neural implant gets corrupted. Even memories. collapse."

"There's only one mind that survived direct contact with them."

"'And he's lying in Central Med-Care.'"

"Unix009."

Zenix raised his arm once more.

Off his wrist, currents of holographic information illuminated the war room—maps, audio logs, and bits of visual streaming in mid-air.

[Zenix]

"But he certainly provides us with big description of this beast... and this is funny."

Zenix's face was grim—but serene.

She eyed each senior official.

[Zenix]

"If this description is accurate... we must prepare."

She breathed in deeply.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room of top warriors, commanders, and experts.

[Zenix]

"All of you here—can't afford to let this information leak anywhere."

"And we all trust everyone here. That trust... is our everything."

"So—can we get rid of your all digital equipment and any other high-tech gear you're carrying?"

[Younger Guard] (excitedly oblivious)

"Oh yeah! We have to disable all the devices, alright?"

[Zenix]

"No."

"We have to destroy them all."

A ripple of fear passed through the crowd.

Whispers. Tension. Panic.

[Crowd – Chattering]

"We've got important data—what about the synced records?"

"You can't just destroy all our gear!"

"I've got fusion tech embedded—what the hell, Zenix?"

Then—without a word—

Zenix pulled a micro-device no bigger than a grain of rice from his pocket.

She tossed it into the air.

It hovered.

It hummed.

Then—

💥 SHRIEEENNNNNNNGGG—!!!

A blinding soundwave exploded outward.

A high-pitched resonance rattled the walls, ripping through every piece of tech.

Screens cracked.

Holograms vanished.

Cybernetic arms malfunctioned—some shattered.

Even the cyborg soldiers screamed as sparks flashed out of their implants.

In seconds—

all digital and augmented equipment in the war room was down.

[Panic ensues.]

"What the heck—!"

"My arm! My stuff—"

"This is sabotage!"

But then—

an almost simultaneous, deafening order thundered through the chamber:

[All Four Higher-Ups – Simultaneously]

"SILENCE."

The chamber became deathly quiet.

The air stopped moving.

Soldiers remained frozen, dumbfounded—

staring at Zenix, at one another, at the wreckage of destroyed metal on the floor.

[Zenix] (calmly, swatting dust from coat)

"Okay. Well—now I believe it's time."

"For everyone, with the exception of higher soldier generals, task force commanders, and major operatives..."

"To depart this room."

No one complained.

Every soldier, every officer, every cyber-upgraded warrior slowly turned—faces white.

Eyes cast toward the higher authorities.

And, one by one—

they bowed in silence...

and departed.

No words. No protests.

Only the gentle hiss of closed doors as the outer throng disappeared—

leaving behind only the empire's most deadly intellects...

...and the truth regarding Zorons still to be revealed.

[Task Force 2A Soldier]:

I am aware that Task Force senior officers and higher-ups are present, but why is a high-breed permitted entry? It's disgusting to be around him!

[Zenix]:

This so-called "half-breed" is in charge of Task Force 2B, whether you like it or not. It is more than justified that he is here.

[Task Force 2A Soldier]:

What? How can a person with mixed ancestry be given command of a Task Force? This is not acceptable!

[Pilos]:

You say it's unacceptable? Do you mean that someone like you has the audacity to challenge our choices?

Fear creeping across his face, the Task Force 2A soldier quickly lowers his gaze.

[Task Force 2A Soldier]:

N-No, sir! I went too far. I'm sorry!

He looks at the mix-blood soldier and chuckles lightly, a tiny smile emerging.

[Task Force 2A Soldier]:

Mix-blood, what on earth are you laughing at?

[Mix-blood Soldier]:

Not at all. Your terrified expression just made me laugh.

And stop this "mix-blood" bullshit. My name is Ametes, and you will now refer to me as Commander.

You still haven't even been given command of your own unit.

[Task Force 2A Soldier]:

I will never refer to you as commander! My task force isn't even led by you!

[Zendor]:

Enough!

Get down, everyone. We are not here to quarrel like kids.

Start the briefing, Zenix.

[Zenix]:

As you like, sir.