The blindfold blinded me, as I sat in stillness. My mentor left, but promised to come back. Even with how much I hate sitting here, Donovan trusted me, and I had my pride.

Footsteps echoed in the distance.

“You can take off the blindfold now,” my mentor said.

I took off the mask, and saw a boardroom with many chairs. I went away from Donovan, over to the table. My hand caressed over the wood. The wood chipped over my claws. The chairs however were high in craftsmanship. There was a mishmash in quality.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“This is the IMPERIAL Council,” he said. “We don’t let just anyone in here.”

“That explains the lack of carpenters.”

“The chairs were easy to get here, but the table you see? Operatives built that themselves. This room has a special meaning, no guards, civilians or unranked ever went inside. Only full members of IMPERIAL set foot in here.”

“You said full members of Imperial, do you mean…”

I turned my head. Donovan held onto a duster alongside armor to match with both hands.

“This coat is made from bullet-proof weave, with armor designed to be lightweight. Let them serve you well,” he set them on top of my lap, “For you to wear.”

“Is this — really all for me?” I knew the answer, but I was unprepared.

“No, not all for you,” he grinned. “I forgot to give you one last item.” he held out a metal badge, an insignia with the image of 3 stars. “You are an operative now, welcome to third class.”

“Donovan, I…” only expected a reward for a task well done. I steered my breath, “Can I try it on?”

“Of course you can,” he gave me permission.

To become a fashion statement, that was my dream since I saw the uniform; now mine. I slipped the plate on, and wore the duster. Both fit smoothly on my waste. They were meant for me.

My body spun around. I imitated one of Thousand Cuts’ poses. Donovan glanced at me with a straight expression.

Oh, I’m acting out my fantasies, I stopped myself.

“So this is why a stranger came to give me those measurements. I thought you were only buying me clothes,” I remembered.

“If the clothes make the man, then the uniform should fit perfectly,.”

“Thank you, Donovan. This means so much to me.”

“I knew that you would like the uniform.”

Was I being too obvious?

My mentor reached inside his duster, “I was going to wait after training, but seeing as you are at this place, here. It’s an envelope from your mom.”

I recognized the envelope. The letter was the one that Grubbs’ gave Donovan before our spar. The envelope had sealing wax, a way to verify that the letter was unopened. The wax seal displayed a crescent moon; unopened.

My hands removed the seal to reveal the letter’s contents. The note was written with calligraphy, a marvelous style of writing. I noticed that the words were in English. I haven’t heard the language in a while. Pland spoke many tongues and English was the exception.

How did English end up here? That was like asking about the chicken or the egg. Best not to dwell too hard.

What I read was undoubtedly English. The consonants from the alphabet were different, but the syntax were all the same.

Donovan observed behind me. I knew he wouldn’t be able to understand the words. My eyes darted across the page, line from line. When I was finished, I set the note down.

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“I don’t grasp of nyancan,” he admitted. “You mind telling me what the letter’s about?”

I took a breath, “The letter is from my mother. ‘She wishes me a happy birthday’ — I’m now 19 years old,” I clenched the envelope.

Guilt washed over me. I had no right feeling that emotion. She was a person who I never knew, yet I felt a strong connection when I read her own writing. Kiko was her name. I knew that because she was a part of my name; a sense of identity.

“You don’t remember your mother, do you?” Donovan asked.

“No, I don’t,” I replied.

“You had a birthday, perhaps we can celebrate? Do you still want to do that?” He placed his hand on my shoulder.

“No,” I said, “I don’t feel like enjoying any party right now,” I glanced at him. “I know what you’re thinking. This time I’m going to be okay. I want to be alone with my thoughts.”

My meteor respected my wish, he left the room. I stared at the note that my mom left.

— — —

I twisted my knife inside my room. A knock resounded on my door. My eyes glanced at the locked door. I was glad that Donovan decided to install a lock.

I was greeted by a guard when I opened the door. This time the guard wasn’t Grubbs, he was recovering.

“Is there anything you want?” I looked up to the guard.”

“I was told to give you the message. The other IMPERIAL operatives need you to see them, sir,” the guard saluted.

Donovan and Lorry wanted me to go meet them at the Imperial council. The guard knew little information on the reason, not even the name.

“Anything else?” I asked further.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve seen you at the tournament. Your Flying Axe Kick at the end was really amazing.”

Flying axe kick, is that what they’re calling it?

“Just get out of here!” I exclaimed.

“Right away, sir!” He scampered off.

Ridiculous, naming a move from me kicking in the air, I grumbled.

I made good sure my duster was smooth and the armor shined. I was an operative, and must act my part. My knives were sharp as my mind, although I wasn’t prepared; that’s fine. I only have to do well enough.

— — —

I went back to the Imperial Council. Donovan and Lorry were the first ones early, as expected. The other operatives trickled in as I waited. Thousand Cuts sauntered by and gave me a wink with her one eye. She leaned against her chair.

I’m not sure if I should acknowledge or ignore her.

Lyle came into the room. To have him walk free after what he did and so blatantly. My anger that I once had, seethed into contempt. I wanted nothing more to do with him.

On his neck was a red collar, made to demean him. He glared at me, yet I ignored him. We were in a room full of operatives. There’s no nothing he could do; nothing to be scared of.

“Daring today, Lyle,” Donvan said. “Since you’re so eager, how about you sit next to me,” Donovan’s smile never reached his eyes.

Donovan's suggestion sounded more like a demand.

“I did say that I should keep you on a short leash, when you should be wearing blinders. Looks like I’m mistaken,” My mentor continued on with his one-sided conversation.

I studied Lyle’s expression.

Lyle was trembling.

Lyle’s collar made me relieved that I could never experience the same humiliation. The Degenerative Behavior Act protected me from wearing animal accessories. Imagine how shameful wearing a bell would be.

When every operative appeared, Lorry stood up. Murmurs from conversation could be heard.

“Okay, everyone simmer down,” Lorry yelled. “We’re here to talk tactics, not whoever can one up each other. That goes for you, Wade.”

A man shifted in his seat who I assumed was Wade. Like other operatives, he wore a duster. However he had no armor. He left his bare chest to show. He does have nice abs, I admitted.

Thousand Cuts leaned in her seat while grinning. Lyle looked like a statue while seated next to Donovan. My mentor was as impassive as usual.

“Gang activity is on the rise,” she continued. Dolores shifted her head to the room. “Guard corruption increased and even the dubious houses even stopped pretending. Cases of missing people are at a record high. These may seem unrelated, but the intel doesn't lie. The rebellion is plotting something big, they have been off the radar for far too long.”

Most of the operatives nodded their heads in agreement, what Lorry said came to little surprise. Lorry spun her attention to me.

“But before that,” she said, “I like to congratulate Mekiko O’ Zaar for becoming third class and being here with us today.”

Eyes stared at me. I sank down in my seat, my ears drooped from the watchful operatives. I was the center of attention.

“Give the catboy some space, you know how easily timid he gets,” Lorry said.

There were murmurs of acknowledgement as the operatives moved their gazes back. I had a moment of relief, then a moment of sheer disbelief.

I’m not easily timid, I pouted. I wanted to tell Lorry that, but I would be stared at again, my tail swishing.

“Let’s go through the debriefing, shall we? see what we learned so that we can revise or make new plans,” Dolores said.

I had a duty to fulfill. I am Imperial now, and I must act my part.

No, I have always been IMPERIAL.

There are friends that I can rely on, even if one of them is Thousand Cuts.

After all, pride is other people.