[Featured on WATTPAD PICKS]
The last thing you'd imagine Earth's General having is an identity crisis, let alone in the middle of an interstellar war, but for General Avalyn Concerto she begs to differ.
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The door slammed shut across the hall for the tenth time today. Ava groaned into her pillow, but it didn't drown the insufferable noise one bit. Whose bright idea was it to install swinging doors? She appreciated the sliders more after this.
All morning long, the twins caused a ruckus. Their shoes shuffled across the floorboards, while they talked up a storm, up and down the hallways. And then Gio woke up, and things just got louder.
Ava knew she could easily go out there and tell them to pipe down, but she didn't want to face them—mainly Mika. God, she was so embarrassed. If she'd known they'd wake up this quickly, then she never would've worried about them. She never would've helped Mika. That's it. I'm never leaving this room.
Ava's phone trilled, notifying her of a text. Refusing to move off the pillow, she blindly searched for the phone on the nightstand in the dark, then swiped it open.
Josh: Lazy bum. Get up and suit up. We're training in T-Minus 15 min.
Great. Groaning, she rolled out of bed, grabbed her uniform out of the duffle bag, and went to the bathroom. The stark lighting completely exposed the dark bags under her eyes and the bird's nest on her head. Basically, she looked awful. She should take a shower, but there was no time.
After washing her face in the sink, she pulled on the uniform. The jacket fit like a glove, sculpting over her body with every slight curve and muscle of her arms. It frayed at the cuffs and stretched thin from over-stitching. From the way the pants fit, she'd need to replace them soon.
Self-stitching was one of the many perks to this uniform. Since their bodies healed on their own after they transitioned, the UFE invented a material that could stitch itself up. So far it worked like a charm, protecting their skin as they continued fighting in battle. But lately, the material was getting cheaper, thinner. She just got this uniform last year and it was already worn down.
Ava was envious as a child. They couldn't wear these uniforms until after they transitioned, so when she did, Gregori personally wrapped the uniform. He placed it inside a blue box with a giant blue ribbon tying it closed—the ribbon looked like another gift. It was so beautiful, she didn't want to open it until Junipea said, you think that ribbon is pretty, wait until you see what's inside.
Those were the last good memories Ava had of Junipea before he died a few weeks later. Now she cursed the UFE uniform every time she looked at it.
After brushing out the tangles, Ava tied her hair into a bun and then froze. The plaster was gone. Her tattoo was completely exposed. When was it removed? Ava swore she put one on after her shower yesterday.
Wait, what's going on? It looks different. She leaned closer to the mirror, sat on the marble counter to get a clear image. It wasn't working. So she frantically searched through the bathroom drawers and the closet—nothing. No handheld mirror anywhere. Wait, what about my room?
