Wales, Pembrokeshire, St. Betty's Girls' Academy, 20th of September 2015, 1650 hours:
The sky was covered by thick clouds, barely allowing the sun to penetrate through. The wind was quite calm that day. There stood a structure in the middle of nowhere, a giant complex of a private school surrounded by low concrete walls, with Victorian-style architecture—with a large church placed just right in the middle, a large metal bell hanging right on top of the tallest point, where there were also present clocks attached to it.
Girls wearing their uniforms of a white long sleeved buttoned blouse with a dark green blazer with a logo that is a fort with a book in the middle, and a roll below that says, 'St Betty's Girls' Academy'; with a square pattern with even more darker outlines, along with a knee-length dark green skirt with white plain long leggings and dark coloured flat shoe wear, were walking on the pathways, talking to one another, some smiles, some sad faces. They were walking back to the large dormitory building placed just a hundred meters away from the school, just beside the school staff's building, where they usually have their own private time. Just outside the school complex were a parking lot and a lobby area, where people, some of whom were parents, took their daughters away for a trip back home. The entrance was guarded by a few guards wearing a khaki tunic and trousers, boots, and a peak khaki cap with the label 'ES'. Standing for Entrance Security.
Right in one of the school buildings, located underground, in the basements, where there is also a storage room for the school's supplies, was a thick metal door with a retractable peep hole and a label that says, 'Flying Club' and 'Do not enter! Authorized personnel only!'. Guarded by a man wearing a khaki tunic and trousers, with boots and a peak khaki cap labeled 'FCS', standing for Flight Club Security, along with a nametag that labels him as a security personnel. Standing there with a tight posture, eyes front towards the stairs that led up. Standing below a bright yellow light, just near a small desk.
Through the thick metal door, was a wide concrete room, lit by multiple LED lights. The air was quite cold thanks to two air conditioners installed facing each other. Multiple figures were present inside, talking. Some males, some females. Three factions. One faction of two males, wearing white shirts with dark blue blazers with square patterns with light blue outlines and trousers with flat footwear of either black or dark brown.
Their blazer features a symbol that is a shield with a lion and a cross right on top of it, with an inscription just below: 'St. Bennett Boys' College'. The other faction consisted of two males, wearing the same type of clothing, with the difference being that a kilt was worn, with a different logo on the blazer, a shield with a fort with a saltire pattern, and an inscription that says, 'Bovington Academy'. Lastly, there is a faction of four girls. Being the students of this school, wearing the same uniform as the rest of the girls in the school.
Inside the room, there is a long square table covered with a red and blue patterned cloth, with six seats on each side and three on the shorter sides, each with a pad and a glass filled with water in front. There's also a large board, filled with maps, where a girl was seen cleaning it up, packing it into the small boxes.
"Right, the last match was a success. We lost six Fireflies, two Black Princes, and four Tetrarchs in exchange for the annihilation of the opponent's entire strength. Now, we'll be having our next match in 5 days, assuming all teams go through the 2nd stage." Tom spoke to the personnel inside the room. "William, how's the tank doing?" He looked toward William.
"Badly damaged, but it won't take long for the tanks to be fully repaired. It'll take just 48 hours to do so, assuming our board doesn't change the technicians or other delays." William answered back.
"Right.. Well, Betsy. What's our next arena?" Tom turned towards the leading girl in front of her, who was a brunette with a medium-sized chest.
"Beatrix?" Betsy turned towards the girl sitting to her right, a flat-chested, dark brown-haired girl with almost the same height as her, only different by a few inches.
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The Rising North
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