THE VARIABLE

—>MARGARET'S POV<—

My heart racing wildly, memories of the monstrous stranger from last night flooded back. He had dispatched an Alpha in mere seconds, his dominance unmistakable. The stranger's fangs were the longest I've ever seen, his claws razor-sharp and menacing. But it was his eyes that truly unsettled me— an unnerving golden hue that seemed to defy explanation. 

These traits were eerily reminiscent of Vampires and Werewolves, yet the stranger didn't fit neatly into either category. One thing was certain, however; those golden eyes haunted me still.

Peder Samuel's eyes narrowed as he reviewed the battle report. "Two Askers dead, two injured, and the Alpha nearly escaped. It was only due to the intervention of a monster, that the mission didn't fail completely." His tone was laced with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, his gaze piercing as he awaited my explanation.

My gaze drifted to the mahogany desk in front of him, the high-backed chair swiveling slightly under his weight. The soft glow of the overhead lights cast a warm ambiance, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted up from the cup on the desk, teasing my senses.

My gaze finally settled on my immediate superior. A middle-aged man with a commanding presence, he was renowned as one of the top ten strongest Peders globally. His distinctive features; a neatly trimmed black afro, piercing blue eyes, and a simple yet dignified moustache. These features seemed chiseled into his calm, authoritative face.

After an oppressive silence, I broke the stillness, my voice firm but measured. "The mission was accomplished, sir. That's all that matters."

"Section 2, Code 10 states that every prey must be exterminated, no matter the cost in hunters' lives. Yet, last night, Margaret, you hesitated. Your actions contravened our organization's fundamental principles. What if the monster hadn't intervened to eliminate the Alpha?" His voice was laced with disapproval, his tone stern and questioning.

I wasn't surprised that the Syntax had noted my hesitation. It was standard protocol for the Syntax to debrief and scrutinize every member of a Birlik upon their return from a hunt, ensuring that every detail was accounted for and every decision justified.

"Section 4, Code 8 states that no hunter shall be penalized if the consequence of breaking a rule doesn't result in disaster." I countered, my voice tinged with relief. The stranger's timely intervention had saved not only our mission, but also my own skin— sparing me from punishment for my fleeting moment of hesitation.

As Seraphlings within the Syntax, we walked a fine line between justice and chaos. Our organization was comprised of individuals who were, frankly, a little unhinged and ruthless. Yet, we adhered to a code of honor, only pursuing monsters that had committed crimes. In essence, we were the supernatural community's equivalent of law enforcement.

"True, the code protects you from punishment. However, luck won't always be on your side. You're an exceptionally skilled hunter, Margaret, but your hesitancy is holding you back from reaching your full potential. Now, let's discuss the monster your team encountered last night." Peder Samuel stood up, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he awaited my response.

"Based on our observations, the stranger can be classified as a supernatural carnivore. Given that there are only two known species within this category; Vampires and Werewolves; it's reasonable to consider them as possibilities. However, his transformation was distinctly different, and while he shared some traits with these species, the golden eyes were a striking anomaly. Therefore, I believe we can rule out the possibility of him being a Vampire or Werewolf." I replied calmly, my voice steady and measured. Yet, beneath my composed exterior, a spark of curiosity ignited.

He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne enveloping me, a rich aroma that was almost distracting. As a connoisseur of fine fragrances, I found myself momentarily intrigued, wondering what brand he wore. But his voice cut through my reverie, "Not a Vampire, not a Werewolf. What does Section 2, Code 4 state?"

The Syntax was governed by Four Law Sections, each comprising 10 Codes. This yielded a total of 40 Codes that every Syntax member was duty-bound to uphold. A single violation had the potential to destabilize the entire system, underscoring the gravity of adherence.

"Every variable must be monitored." I recited smoothly, recalling the familiar phrase from Section 2, Code 4. It was a mantra ingrained in every Seraphling from a young age— by the time we turned 12, we were expected to have committed the entire codebook to memory, a rite of passage that marked our transition to full-fledged members of the Syntax.

"This stranger is a variable, and as such, he must be monitored. Let me illustrate the importance of vigilance. Consider the tale of the lion and the mouse. A lion, eager to devour its prey, charged forward, neglecting the trap that lay between them. The lion's failure to account for the environmental variable proved fatal. We cannot afford to make similar mistakes here at the Headquarters. Kenner, our home, is also home to the Kral, and we must exercise extreme caution."

As he finished speaking, his voice resonated through the room, and then he stepped back, repositioning himself before a towering bookshelf that lined one wall of his office.

I grasped his intentions. This building, the unassuming headquarters of the Syntax, was cleverly concealed from human eyes. To the unsuspecting passerby, the structure appeared abandoned, its walls broken, doors damaged, and ironworks rusted. 

However, this dilapidated facade was merely an illusion, crafted by the holy energy that shielded the true interior from all non-Seraphlings, including Vampires and other supernatural creatures.

The HQ's access was strictly limited to Seraphlings and individuals granted explicit permission by them. This sacred site was uniquely shielded by holy protection, distinguishing it from other branches, which relied on discreetly concealed locations.

As the true seat of the Kral's power, the reigning ruler of the Syntax, this HQ held immense significance. It was little wonder, then, that Peder Samuel deemed it crucial to monitor this particular variable with utmost vigilance.

"Section 2, Code 2, is clear. The Kral's safety is paramount and cannot be compromised. Your team's new mission is to track down this stranger, observe his actions, and neutralize him if he poses a threat. If he commits evil, eliminate him. If needed, do not hesitate to request backup. Conversely, if he proves harmless, continue to monitor his activities, providing detailed reports and attempting to uncover his true identity."

As he issued the command, his fingers trailed deliberately along the bookshelf, underscoring his authoritative tone.

"I heed your command, sir," I replied, my voice crisp. As I turned to depart, his gaze snapped towards me, his expression grave. "You have a two-week deadline, Margaret," he said, his tone solemn.