Unstable

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Percy would like to say that his experience being an IMA officer over the past month has been fairly smooth.

Besides himself, Sector Zero only consists of five members: Elara, Saros, Galexia, Aurora, and Rigel, commander of Sector Three: Weapons and General Engineering. He has yet to meet him, but from Saros' description, he hopes to meet him soon enough.

"He's an idiot." Saros sighed one morning during breakfast, a certain fondness in his eyes. "But also probably one of the smartest people in the IMA. You'll like him."

Percy had smiled at that. The contradiction in his words clearly shows how close the two of them were. The commander had apparently been on a mission with part of his sector to help with an outdated defense system for another planet, hence why he has yet to meet him.

Aevum was an interesting place to be; the food was great, sunsets were to die for, and the inner city was just as beautiful as the outside. He supposes he would love to live here if it weren't for the current circumstances.

Besides the hellhound in the room, he thinks one of his biggest critiques of the place were the officers.

Unsurprisingly, Chaos' prediction was an understatement: word of his fight with Elara spread faster than Greek fire.

Everyone hates Percy, and if not that, they fear him.

At least, this is what he can deduct from the sabotage attempts in the dining hall. Officers sticking their feet out into the walkway to trip him, sleeping draught placed in his orange juice, invisible gum-like substance on empty seats, and so much more.

So far, he's been able to narrowly avoid all of them, but that doesn't make him any less irritated by the lack of maturity from everyone.

Speaking of being mature...

Percy just barely ducks under the vicious blow from the General of the IMA before rolling past her. His knuckles almost turn white as he grips his own sword. He clicks his tongue.

Even though Percy would like to say he's at least tried his best to be friendly to the General, she has not.

It also doesn't help that he and Elara have been assigned to be sparring partners under Chaos' orders.

"Proximity can lead to cooperation." Chaos had offered. "Also, so far only you and Saros can hold up to her fighting style. She needs a variety of partners to improve."

In hindsight, he should have fought against that idea a bit more than he did. It wasn't an issue for him to spar with people that don't necessarily like him, but at this point, it's clearly becoming an issue.

"Will you stop trying to cut my head off?" Percy says, his breath heaving. He slashes his sword at her torso, which she blocks with a huff of effort. Elara's hair is frizzy and frames her face like a lion's mane as a thin sheen of sweat forms over her forehead. Percy knows he doesn't look any better—he keeps having to brush his damp, overgrown hair from his gaze as they continue to fight like their lives depend on it. The General's golden eyes narrow at his statement.

"Will you...start actually dodging my moves?" She retorts as he blocks one of her blows as well. They both pause for a moment, Percy's irritation already growing at this conversation.

"Maybe I'd be able to safely dodge them if you weren't being such a—"

"Alright everyone!" Saros claps in a distance, startling the both of them from their growing argument. "I think it's about time to call it a day, General, you have a meeting in an hour."

With one last glare, Elara flicks her sword out of existence with Percy sheathing his own. Both of their breaths are heaving as they turn towards Saros. Percy can already sense he was annoyed by the crinkles between his eyebrows.

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