In a psychiatric hospital's left wing on the third floor, a woman, putting on a white medical coat with her black hair tied up, briskly walked through the corridor.
This woman was Sia Shar, the head of the hospital, and following behind her was another woman standing a head taller, her expression tight, dressed in a green military uniform.
Vera Sydnorf wore a green officer's cap with a black cross insignia at its front. While the woman ahead moved quickly with calm, confident steps, Vera glided across the floor, keeping pace easily.
"Cole has been a mess since he arrived in town. He starts fights at the slightest provocation, always getting beaten up. Everyone seems to find him in prison, and when he's not causing trouble, he's out drinking himself to death. Most of the bars in the village have banned him due to his erratic tendencies, so it has become common to find him sleeping drunk in the streets or in front of people's homes. Despite his actions, the community has tried as much as they can to help him, but he doesn't want to be helped. The mayor tried to seek help from the state, but they are reluctant to intervene, so he was brought here."
The words hurriedly flew out of the shorter woman's mouth, but just as she began to internally breathe in relief, a question came from behind that made her stop in her tracks.
"Is that your justification for why you've been riding him?"
Sia's breath caught in her throat. She turned around, terror in her eyes, looking at the military woman with pleading desperation.
"How old is he again?"
"About to hit nineteen," Sia said, her voice near a plea.
"Keep leading the way," the words came out cold.
Not daring to defy the command, the head of the hospital moved swiftly, her legs carrying her fast to keep ahead of the person she was meant to lead.
In a few seconds, they arrived at a door, and with trepidation and prayers of mercy to whatever god might be listening, Sia pushed it open. Her face turned pale as the unmistakable sound of moans immediately reached her ears.
She wanted to turn back but was pushed forward, stumbling inside. She turned to the left and stared at the scene before her: a very young man sitting on a white couch, naked, his left hand gripping the waist of a young, though much older, naked woman as she rode him.
Letting out a groan, the man took a long swing from the bottle in his right hand. The strong smell of alcohol wafted over to the two women, making the hospital head flinch.
"How do you explain this?"
Looking between the spectacle, its participants lost in the throes of pleasure, unaware of their audience and then back at the taller woman, Sia struggled to find what to say and eventually spoke in defeat.
"You were once his teacher. You know him better. Not even we are equipped to handle him."
"Get them to stop," Vera said, but before Sia could make a move, a slurred voice rang out.
"Both of you, get out."
The words came from the young man, startling the woman on top of him. When she turned and saw the audience, she let out a shriek and dove to the side, scrambling for her clothes.
"You are not going anywhere," the words came out firm, freezing the panicked woman in place.
Using the opportunity, Sia tentatively slipped out behind Vera, abandoning her subordinate, wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and the military woman.
"Get your clothes and leave."
The young man moved to speak, but a hot, piercing gaze kept his mouth shut. With displeasure, he watched as his source of pleasure scrambled out of the room, his tongue snaking over his lips as he glimpsed her large, jiggling ass.
"You put on some clothes."
The young man made no move to cover up. Bringing the bottle in his hand to his lips, he poured some of its contents down his throat, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the bottle down, then turned his attention to the woman remaining in the room.
"Miss Vera, it's been a while. Why not take off those clothes and come join me?"
As if in invitation, the man's cock bobbed up and down as he spoke, but Vera was not the least bit impressed.
"It has, and I didn't expect to find you in this shape."
Despite keeping her expression impassive, disappointment flashed in Vera's eyes, and it sent the young man into laughter.
"You prey and kill, I drink and fuck. You have no right to judge me."
Seconds of silence passed as both parties locked gazes, a pressure rising from one and pressing on the other, but he casually shrugged it off.
Its intensity grew, causing a smile to begin appearing on the man's face, but the woman cut it off.
"I'm not here to indulge you, but I'm on official business."
Before Vera could continue speaking, a bird, which looked like a hawk but had a red crown and silver talons, appeared on her shoulder. Cawing, it flapped its wings, a blue projection rising from it and growing until it filled the entire room, then folding its wings.
Within the room, a silent, almost undetectable hum of energy thrummed, and it was clear that whatever information was being shared inside could not be seen or heard by anyone outside.
This change cleared much of the confusion on the man's face, and the woman spoke.
"Cole Wadson, you have been invited to join the DeathMarines."
There was thick silence after the woman spoke, followed by a snort.
"Since when did the military begin needing poster boys? Worst of all for the DeathMarines," he ridiculed, finding Vera's words hilarious.
"Maybe I was not direct enough. Cole, you've been selected to become a DeathMarine."
The alcohol was still affecting him, its influence not something easily shaken off given how much he had consumed, but Cole's eyes focused.
"What are you saying?" he growled, gripping his fists. "I have not even the least bit of Mana. I can't be a Marine."
Vera, however, remained unfazed and continued.
"Unlike the usual 95%, this time it is a 99.8% chance of death. Meet me outside in an hour, packed and ready to go if you accept. If not, you take this."
Vera dropped a blue pill on the table and, without another word, turned and departed. The energy in the room and the hawk on her shoulder disappeared.