White rays shone through the panes of glass from the oval window, casting stretched shapes onto the dark table. The sunlight reflected off diverse items in the room such as polished vases and glass-like objects, even giving a soft lavender glow to the amethyst gem hanging off one's neck.

Not many things filled the rectangular expanse, the elongated table with filled chairs in the dead center taking up most of the space. A few potted plants and maps, maybe, but other than those few things, the place was mostly empty. Normally, the chairs placed perfectly around the dark surface would be too. However, the chairs were now all in a line on the side closest to the exit, despite one that was placed on the opposite side, each seat occupied by a figure.

On the smooth yet splintering table lied a small and black rectangular item with a nearly square shaped speaker that had what looked like a cassette tape in it. The minuscule orb on the far side was radiant with red and one of the buttons on the top was pressed in. A notebook that seemed thin rested opened just below eyesight with cursive handwriting that perceived to be scribbled, like it was written fast. There was the occasional tap of pen against paper every few seconds.

"It doesn't make sense." The person who spoke ruffled his chestnut brown hair before resting his arm on the other, making a slight thump against the table. A long cloak flowed over the back of the chair from his shoulders and he had a choice of clothing with the colors of purple and black.

The figure two seats away from him sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked to be about twenty-seven years old. "There was nothing. I repeat nothing."

"Look Patrick, before you start accusing any of the recruits, let me explain how no one knows what happened." This comment came from the next to the last speaker, his warm brown eyes glaring at the man across from him. The gem he wore around his neck hung low when he leaned in. "If they don't want to speak, don't force them to speak."

"Or force them to submit to anything of any kind," the male on the far right added, small strands of his short and nearly walnut brown hair covering one of his eyes.

The figure six seats away from him flicked her braid off her shoulder. "What are you even talking about?" she asked the man, sadness mixed with confusion in her voice, her eyes a coffee color in the sunlight.

"I don't get it either," the male with blue eyes admitted, glancing to the girl from his seat.

It was the person next to him turn to speak. "I think someone played a trick on you and the Sky Army." He crossed his arms. "There's no way."

"I agree with Adam," Ian said, taking a quick glimpse at him from a seat away. "None of us know what happened. We're not going to unless you set us free. I will get to the bottom of this."

"I will join you on that path," Seth added, turning to Patrick. "What more do you want to hear?"

"The truth. I'll give more leniency if you do," General Patrick responded, growing slightly impatient. "You're all bound here until you tell me the truth about that battle."

Mitch shook his head in disbelief. Seto sighed as he stared out into space, trying to think. Tiffany covered her face with her hands with an unheard murmur. Jason and Ty glanced at each other. But no matter what anyone did or said, they all thought the same thing.

What happened?

Suddenly, the door behind them opened. A woman with brown hair and dark hazel green eyes that seemed black from a distance sauntered into the room in a hot pink dress with big ruffles at the top, one side with a thick sleeveless shoulder and the other strap really thin. She directed her gaze to Patrick. "Pat, the people would like to know what's going on. What do you want me to tell them?"

"That they need to be patient." His tone lightened, him sticking his hand out, motioning to her. "Adam, Seth, others, this is Jen."