Zone 19, West Defense Wall.
Before the break of dawn, several high-level Beastman administrators walked into the conference building, braving the heavy snow and frigid wind with faces etched in weary numbness.
This was supposed to be their season of rest. But ever since that person took over Zone 19, meetings were held either at the crack of dawn or late at night. The rest of the time, they had to supervise Zone 19's construction projects and write reports. Forget rest; they'd be grateful just to get a full night's sleep.
Cyril appeared silently among the group of administrators with their messy bedheads. He stopped in the middle of the hall, brushing the snow from his shoulders and hair before tidying his uniform.
Compared to the haggard and irritable administrators, the neat and alert Cyril stood out from the flock.
