Angel: One Million (Volume 1)

Awakening

AWAKENING
ANGEL: ONE MILLION

...

| Winged Varsity Angels HQ.
| 9:26 AM.
| Pearl's Room.

Pearl's father would always tell her that the hardest part of any day was waking up for it, but when he said that, he didn't mean it like physically waking up from sleep. He meant a more spiritual, convoluted kind of waking up, stemming from the soul of an individual rather than the opening of their eyes. The feeling of laying in bed, on a time limit, dreading the idea of having to force yourself into a predetermined flow for hours at a time that you likely couldn't change; getting through that was what he meant, and through the soul would you find the power to do so.

Gathering the strength to fight for your world was what made that struggle so worth it to Pearl's father, and Pearl herself had learned to cherish that sentiment for as long as she drew breath. It was a code that she lived by both personally and professionally, and a code she taught to every single person that worked under her as well. That, despite the undeniably positive nature of the message, was quite ironic considering Corallo was assigned to actually wake her up in the morning.

Do everything in your power to make the world a better place. That was the code of the Winged Varsity Angels.

Pearl's morning routine would always be the same, barring some minuscule changes in her wake-up process to help keep it from being too repetitive or too intricate. Waking up, brushing her teeth, doing her hair—which Corallo always helped her with—and spending at least twenty minutes to an hour at a computer assigning tasks to the employees that worked under her.

From then on, it was alerts at any time they came in, paperwork she'd put off until the day after its delivery, and watching her butler, well, butler his way around the requests of different individuals with an efficiency and grace that only he could make look easy. Heck, Pearl was the Winged Varsity's Acting Captain, and she still wondered how he did it so well.

March 9th, 2021. In comparison to the earth that sat a universe across from them—March 9th, 871–that was the date set using their time instead of the more traditional quadratic formula. This was for the sake of not getting anyone confused between the time zones of separate universes, so that by 10:20 AM, Pearl's docket was full of whatever she needed to do today to keep the workflow chugging and stock prices bumping without pause.

She hated the intricacies of their business ventures, though; that was for the team of secretaries, accountants, and tax inspectors who she specifically hired for that purpose. Why send it to her? So she could send it back down directly? But it had to go up so that it could reach her in the first place, which defeated the purpose of just sending it to the secretaries, accountants, and tax inspectors while they were closer in margin to the people receiving them.

She hired someone for that too! Multiple people, actually!

Nevertheless, Pearl scrolled her emails, clicking random buttons on the side of her mouse while reading along with whatever she saw that she deemed important. It was usually just questions from those who worked under her and requests that she could pass on to different teams of interest—Infantry and Calvary for militaristic measures, Bio-Nuclear and Chemical for scientific means, Recovery Aid Forces for humanitarian relief, and all of the subsidiaries that sat within those same departments.

Not much was calling for her to give an immediate response, but nothing was so unimportant that she could skip it without passing it on. For once, everything was actually worth reading today, and thanks to a cup of coffee that sat comfortably in a coaster to her right, her volume in scrolling and well-thought out responses picked up a considerable pace the further down she went.