Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Chapter 12: The Edge of Preparedness_1

The underground base of Safehouse-15 was quiet except for the faint hum of ventilation systems and the distant echo of footsteps on concrete.

The aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread, which still lingered faintly in the air, drifted down the corridors from the mess hall. It was mid-afternoon, between 2 and 3 p.m., and the team, energized and satiated from their lunch, began to gather in the central meeting room.

Their happy faces showed that they were full from the stew they made with the meat they had brought back from the mission in the morning and that this was a rare break from their normally stressful lives.

The central meeting room, however, was still a mess. The aftermath of last night’s strategy session lingered like an unfinished argument. There were maps all over the long table, along with open laptops and coffee cups that were only half full.

Every surface had sticky notes with curled edges. Some had hastily written coordinates on them, while others had cryptic reminders like “Southwest path to Icelorn basin needs recon” or “Worldwide broadcast by 5 PM.”

The monitors mounted on the walls glowed with fragmented data: regional maps on one, security feeds on another, and a rotating slideshow of global news updates on the third. One screen flashed with an alert from Glacium, reporting increasing beast activity near the northern province.

Amira sat at the center side of the table, her ice-blue eyes fixed on a printout in her hand. She leaned slightly toward Bella and Elias, who sat on either side of her, their heads bent close as they engaged in a low-voiced discussion.

Bella’s fingers were tapping her notebook without thinking, and Elias was chewing on the end of his pen while he listened.

Strangely, the room felt both tense and calm at the same time. There was a sense of purpose in the air, but the underlying confidence of those gathered here lent a certain ease to the tension, much like a team preparing for a familiar challenge.

Sophie was the first to arrive, as usual. She stepped into the room with an easy, confident stride, still adjusting the sleeves of her jacket.

“Anyone else feel like we just ate the best meal of our life?” she remarked, tossing her bag onto one of the chairs. “I swear, I might forgive those beasts for existing if they keep tasting that good.”

Mira followed close behind, cradling a steaming cup of tea in both hands.

“You say that now,” she replied, her tone dry but amused. “But give it a day or two, and we’ll all be sick of it. Mark my words.”

Sophie flopped into a chair, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry. Given the pace at which Grace and Caleb’s culinary skills are developing, I am confident that it won’t happen anytime soon.”

The two shared a brief chuckle, but Mira spoke while seated on the chair, “Tea anyone?”

She held up her cup and announced, “This is the last batch before we unpack our restock.”

“You should’ve said that before you walked in,” Elias grumbled, eyeing her drink with mock longing.

“You snooze, you lose,” Mira shot back, settling into her chair. Her demeanor was calm, but the slight twitch of her lips suggested she was enjoying the teasing.

Asher followed closely behind her, his lean frame clad in a loose jacket, his sharp eyes taking in the room with a habitual wariness.

“It appears that someone threw a party and neglected to clean up,” Asher murmured.

“Last night’s meeting,” Bella replied without looking up. “Guess no one had the energy to put things back in order.”

“Figures,” Asher muttered, pulling out a chair and leaning back in it with a contented sigh. “At least lunch made up for the chaos. Did you try the stew, Liam?”

Liam, who sat quietly and claimed a seat near the back, looked up from fiddling with his phone. “Barely,” he replied, smirking. “Lilah ate half from the plate before I even got a chance.”

“I did not!” Lilah protested, leaning forward to glare at him. “You’re just slow. Maybe next time, move faster than a mutant slug.”

“Noted,” Liam said with mock solemnity, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

After some time, one by one, the rest of the team filtered in, each bringing their own energy to the room. Some greeted each other with nods or light banter, while others settled in quietly, their expressions focused. The seats around the table gradually filled, the empty spaces shrinking as the unit assembled.

As the last person to arrive, Sam walked in without a fuss. He leaned his tall frame against the doorframe for a moment before pushing it shut with a solid click. “It looks like everyone is here,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the other people talking as he walked over to the empty spot.

Amira raised her hand, a small but commanding gesture that immediately drew everyone’s attention. Slightly leaning forward, she put her hands on the edge of the table and looked calm but resolute.

“Alright, settle down,” she said. The casual chatter ebbed away, replaced by a focused quiet as the team turned their attention to her. “First off, excellent work this morning. The mission was a success, and the results speak for themselves. I think we can all agree that lunch was… memorable.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, punctuated by a few chuckles.

“In addition,” she began, her voice calm but laced with gravity. “You’ve all listened to fragments of what transpired during the mission this morning. While some of you might think you possess adequate understanding, it’s crucial for everyone to be on the same page.”

“What we encountered out there was not simply another criminal or warlord, but an unleashed beast. These were different; they were deadlier, and we must realize the full extent of what we’re up against.”

Her words were met with silence, and a few heads nodded and a few chairs shifted in response. Amira’s eyes landed on Sophie, Mira, and Asher. “You three were on the field with me. Share what you experienced. Sophie, start us off.”

Sophie straightened in her seat, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. A flicker of unease dimmed her usual casual confidence.

“It was… like fighting a nightmare,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with an undercurrent of tension.

“Even though I wasn’t directly in the fray, I was mostly providing support from a distance, but their aura was… suffocating. It wasn’t just the usual tension we feel in fights. Even from a distance, the pressure felt as if it was weighing down on you.”

She paused, glancing at the others before continuing. “And they were different; faster, smarter. Some of them weren’t just impulsive; their instincts seemed sharper and more focused. They exhibited coordination, collaborating with their alpha. Even though I should have been out of reach, one of them managed to corner me.”

“If Mira hadn’t stepped in…” as she trailed off, shaking her head. “They’re on another level. We’ve faced tough opponents before, but nothing like this.”

Mira, sitting next to her, leaned forward. Her dark eyes were intense, her hands resting firmly on the table.

“Sophie’s right,” she said, her voice calm but serious. “It’s not just their strength; it’s their unpredictability. These beasts are adapting at a rate that surpasses our own. And the energy they give off when you get close to them? It messes with you. If you’re not in control of yourself, even an awakened person won’t be able to fight at full strength.”

She glanced around the room, her expression grim. “I got close to one during the fight, and I could feel it in my bones. There was a feeling of dread, as if it were something primal and unnatural that didn’t belong in this world.”

Her gaze hardened as she continued, her tone firm. “I can hold my own in a fight, but this… this isn’t just about strength anymore. We need to think smarter, work together. And honestly, if you’re not completely in control of your abilities, going up against one of those things alone is asking to get killed.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and Amira gave a small nod of encouragement to Asher. “Asher?”

Asher leaned back in his chair and smoothed out his messy hair with his hand. “What are they saying? It’s true. Every word of it.”

His voice was low, steady, but there was an edge of frustration. “We had our firearms, but they didn’t do much. Regular bullets just pissed them off. We had to concentrate fire on the same spot, over and over, to even make a dent in their hide.”

“What about close combat?” he asked.

He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “Tactical knives? Might as well be toothpicks. If you don’t have a more advanced tool, you’re merely grazing the surface.

“What happens if you can’t handle the rebound after landing a hit?” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re dead meat.”

“We require better gear and smarter training. Now, it’s like showing up to a tank fight with a slingshot.” As he became more serious.