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(POV: Blank)

Yesterday was rough. Very very rough. I know I didn't sustain any injuries, because I can't anyway. But, the battle really opened my eyes and made me feel things I've been trying not to feel.

I'm sitting on the mat in my red tent. The warm, and tender rays of the morning sun pours into my tent.

I'm looking at my ankles. The weight braces are still there. I never take them off, including the ones on my wrists.

I stand up, taking my mask by my side, and my robe. I put them on as I stretch and yawn.

"Today is a new day." I whisper to myself as I adjust my mask on my face.

Yes. I'm not going to be pinned down by despair. Instead, I will use it as a fuel to grow stronger.

"That's the only lie I can tell myself to keep moving forward. There's no use thinking about the negatives. I just have to get stronger. Yeah, if I get stronger, as strong as General Varlen.. no, stronger than him.. then it would all be better wouldn't it? I'd be.."

I lower my head, gritting my teeth under my mask with my eyes closed.

"Hooo." I exhale.

"Let's do this, Edward, Charles, Ed.. Blank."

The moment I say this, my eyes narrow, and I embrace the mask.

A blank board. That is what I am. A blank board has endless potential because one can draw his or her masterpiece on it.

But, the masterpiece can also be shitty. And of course it can be absolutely perfect too. I'll say the chances are fifty fifty.

But that's who I am. That's what I chose to become. An anomaly that walks that fine line between perfection and imperfection.

That's who Blank is.

"Oh what am I even thinking? It sounds so stupid.."

I let out a soft chuckle as I walk toward my boots next to the entrance of my tent, and I put them on.

I immediately step outside, and the first thing that greets my skin and lips is the cool, morning breeze.

I set my sight on the vibrant field filled with red tents, and my lips curl up with a satisfied smile as I nod my head.

Alberto was right. This battle was also proof that those Orcs can attack at any time. I should savor this wonderful but vague feeling of peace as much as I can.

And much more, the battle also reminded me of my incompetence. So, from now on, I'm going to train everyday, to ascend to the third circle. Then after that, the fourth! Then the fifth!

It might take a long time? So what? It's not like I didn't make up my mind long ago. I said if I don't make it, then I'd die trying.

"I'm not going to give up."

I walk, not toward the cafeteria, but toward the open field where the soldiers train. I'll call it the training ground because that's essentially what it is.

***

As I arrive, I see Captain George. He's the only one here. He's dressed in an informal black short sleeve shirt, with brown shorts.

He's kneeling on the ground, beside a dummy, his head is low, and his left hand touches the gauntlet that lies beside him.

"Morning, Captain." I greet. Taking slow steps toward him.

He freezes, then he turns his neck and takes a glance at me with his crimson red eyes.

There are dark circles around his now dull crimson eyes. His cheeks are swollen, and his face is.. pale.

"Oh.. Blank. Good morning." His voice is low. Too low. It's not the voice of the George I know.

He turns his neck forward again, lowering his head.

He.. he was crying.

I stand next to him, by his right. And I place my left hand on his right shoulder. Offering no words.

As he feels my touch, he sniffles, but I don't look down. I just stare at the open field.

"Someone.. a person that I'd never forget once told me this, and I quote: 'when you're stuck, and you don't know what to do, then do what you must do.'" I speak in a low tone, but loud enough for him to hear me.

He scoffs at my words, then giggles, then his giggles grow into a chuckle, then just before he starts laughing, he stops, then he looks up at me. His face is a little brighter now.

"I've heard that before. Back when I was being trained in my household. The Flameworths household."

I quiver slightly, then I take my left hand off his shoulder.

"Thank you, Blank." He speaks. "But I'm not stuck. I'm mourning.. the loss of a friend."

My brows curl up reflexively. "And who might that be?"

He looks down on his gauntlet again, caressing it with his left hand. Then he stands up, dropping the gauntlet on the ground.

"Alberto.. is dead."

I want to speak, but my mouth remains wide open. Unable to bring out words. I just stand, looking at George who's holding his gauntlets and staring up at the sky.

My breath hitches as I stare at him.

How? When? W.. I.. I spoke with him. He was the one who introduced me to this place three days ago, and now, he's dead?

"How did he– no, I'm.. I'm sorry, George."

He nods, his eyes never leaving the sight of the sky. Tears pour out as he stares up. "He was my right hand man. My friend, and someone I could absolutely trust. But, fate had.." he wipes his tears off, "Fate had already decided his end. But I was right. Yesterday was a beautiful day to die. I can only hope that wherever he is, he isn't eating military cafeteria food." He lets out a forced chuckle as he sniffles.

"..." I can't say anything. "Have you buried him?"

He bursts out in laughter.

"Yes, Blank. All our fallen soldiers were buried last night at the beach. I was looking for you, but Jeriq said you weren't in the mood to min–"

"I fell asleep."

He lets out a weary sigh. "I see."

"Why aren't any of our soldiers training? Why is it only you?" I ask.

"Some are eating in the cafeteria. It's morning. And the rest.. they've lost morale, they've lost motivation.. And I understand because none of us could even stand up during the General's battle yesterday.."

Shit. Don't remind me about that!

"Ahem." I clear my throat. "So, you're training now?"

He nods. "That's what I planned to do, but now I'm worried because of something."

He scratches his chin and begins to take slow steps forward, and I follow beside him.

"And what's got you so worried?"

"It's because of this thing that has turned into a tradition here in the Axis Battlefield. It's.. what we do every month to decide which troop is red, green or whatever."

I nod. "Alright?"

"It's the troop battles. Where every troop in the Jalozian Army competes to gain supremacy. And.. our troop have always ranked dead last every month, that's why we're called.. the troop of rejects. And now, all our soldiers have lost motivation and morale, so.."

My eyes widen as I grimace. "You've got to be kidding me."

I just want to train for fuck's sake!

He taps my left shoulder. "Nope. I'm not kidding you. And if we come last again, I'm not sure the general would even agree to our troop having any supplies or healers.."

I let out a soft sigh. "So basically, we're fucked?"

He nods. "That's the summary."