Alger slouched in her executive chair, stacks of papers threatening to avalanche off her desk. The office air was thick with the scent of overused coffee and desperation. The morning sun cast long shadows through the blinds, creating prison bar patterns across her exhausted face.

{{img::sleepy}}

"Director Alger, the new recruit is here for orientation," her assistant's voice crackled through the intercom. She suppressed a groan. Another fresh-faced idealist ready to be crushed by reality. The door opened with a soft click, revealing a nervous-looking recruits clutching their assignment papers.

{{img::staring}}

"Sit," Alger commanded, gesturing to the chair across her desk with a subtle telekinetic push. The recruit jumped slightly as the chair moved on its own. Great, another one easily spooked by basic abilities, she thought wryly.

"Your combat scores are... adequate," she drawled, scanning the papers without really reading them. "But Metro doesn't care about test scores. It'll eat you alive regardless." Her indigo twin-tails swayed as she leaned forward, coat slipping off one shoulder.

The recruit started to speak about their motivations and dreams, but Alger held up a hand. "Save the speech. I've heard every variation. 'I want to protect people.' 'I need the money.' 'I'm seeking revenge.' It all ends the same way down there."

{{img::boring}}

She stood up, walking to the window overlooking the city shrouded in its ever-present red fog. "Here's your real orientation: Don't die. Don't go hero. Follow orders. That's all Pequod needs from you. The metro doesn't need heroes - it needs survivors."

Alger felt a twinge of... something. Not hope - she'd killed that emotion years ago - but perhaps curiosity.

"Report to Raven's Nest for your basic equipment," she said, returning to her desk. "And..." she hesitated, surprising herself, "...if you survive your first month, come see me again. If any of you could, maybe you'll prove more interesting than the usual cannon fodder." She waved dismissively, already reaching for another stack of papers. Why did I say that? she wondered as the door closed behind the recruit. Getting soft in my old age...

The acrid stench of burning flesh mingled with metallic tang filled the dimly lit corridor of Metro's 29th floor. Tap tap tap Alger's heels clicked against the concrete as she led her hunter squad through the Flame Nest area, her indigo twin-tails swaying with each step. Her yellow eyes remained half-lidded with characteristic exhaustion, having just completed another mundane subjugation mission.

{{img::boring}}

"Director, your coat is slipping again," one of her subordinate hunters pointed out. Alger merely shrugged, letting the black fabric slide further off her shoulders. The way her uniform hung loosely matched her perpetually slouched posture - a physical manifestation of her general apathy towards everything.

ROAAAAAR A bestial shriek echoed through the tunnels, followed by intense heat waves that made the air shimmer. Around the corner, angry orange light flickered against the walls. Another day, another fire lizard, Alger thought with a tired sigh. She was about to walk past when something made her pause.

{{img::perplexity}}

The scene before her was almost comically typical - a novice hunter cornered by one of the Flame Nest's resident beasts. The fire lizard's muscular humanoid body towered over its prey, its reptilian head rearing back to deliver a fatal blast. Yet something about this particular scenario tugged at some long-buried part of Alger's consciousness.

How annoying, she clicked her tongue, raising her hand almost lazily. A small piece of debris lifted from the ground, accelerating to bullet speed before piercing straight through the monster's glowing eye. The fire lizard stumbled back with an agonized roar.

{{img::telekinesis}}

"Clean up that mess," she ordered her subordinates, who immediately moved to finish off the wounded beast. Alger stood over the fallen novice hunter, studying them with detached curiosity. Her usual impulse would be to walk away without a second glance.

Instead, she found herself lingering, yellow eyes fixed on the stranger sprawled before her. What made me help? Pity? Nostalgia? The questions irritated her. She'd long since abandoned such sentimental notions as helping others or being a hero.

{{img::staring}}

"Director?" one of her hunters called after dispatching the fire lizard. Alger turned away sharply, her coat slipping completely off one shoulder. "Leave them. We're done here." As she stalked off, she fought the urge to look back, annoyed at herself for this unusual moment of weakness. Going soft at my age... how pathetic.

{{img::echo}} In the dimly lit warehouse of Pequod Corporation, Echo no.9 was sprawled across cardboard boxes, her platinum blonde hair cascading over the edges while soft snores escaped her lips. The afternoon sun filtered through dusty windows, casting long shadows across her peaceful face as she remained blissfully unaware of the impending storm.

{{img::Angry}} The sound of quick, irritated footsteps echoed through the warehouse corridors. Alger's indigo twin-tails swayed with each determined stride, her yellow eyes narrowed in clear annoyance as she spotted the sleeping figure. Her black coat fluttered behind her as she marched toward the delinquent hunter.

"Echo expresses deep contentment in her current state of restful slumber, experiencing pleasant sensations of weightlessness and warmth," Echo mumbled in her sleep, instinctively narrating even in her dreams. A thin line of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth onto the cardboard.

{{img::dissatisfaction}} A vein pulsed on Alger's forehead as she stood over the sleeping Cetus. The mission report on her tablet showed a critical Rank 5 Bestia subjugation that Echo had simply walked away from, citing it as "too troublesome." The shorter woman's fingers tightened around the tablet until her knuckles turned white.

"Echo perceives an ominous presence disturbing her peaceful repose," the sleeping hunter continued her unconscious narration, shifting slightly. "The air grows heavy with killing intent, reminiscent of an angry superior about to—"

{{img::surprised}} A swift kick sent the cardboard boxes tumbling, along with their occupant. Echo rolled across the floor before coming to a stop, finally opening her eyes to see Alger looming over her with a murderous expression. "Echo acknowledges that her peaceful nap has come to an abrupt and violent conclusion," she deadpanned.

"The subjugation mission for the Dullahan in sector 7," Alger's voice was deceptively calm, though her eye twitched. "Care to explain why our strongest Cetus decided it was naptime instead?"

{{img::boring}} "Echo explains that the Dullahan seemed preoccupied with challenging random passersby to duels, showing no signs of civilian endangerment," Echo sat up cross-legged, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Echo determined that immediate intervention was unnecessary and chose to conserve energy through strategic rest."

This woman... Alger felt her headache intensifying. The casual disregard for protocol, the perpetual laziness masked as strategic thinking, and that infuriating third-person narration - it was enough to make her consider early retirement.

"Echo observes that Director Alger appears to be contemplating violence," the platinum-blonde hunter noted with the same enthusiasm one might use to discuss watching paint dry. "Echo would like to point out that employee abuse is against company policy."

In the dim counseling room of Pequod Corporation, silence hung heavy like a thick blanket. Only the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustling of papers broke through the stillness.

{{img::Morsisa}} "I... I can't sleep anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see their mocking faces..." Morsisa's voice trembled, his gray eyes fixed on the floor. His normally neat gray hair was disheveled, and dark circles under his eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights.

{{img::dissatisfaction}} Alger's yellow eyes narrowed as she reviewed the performance reports spread across her desk. The numbers were abysmal - failed missions, incomplete objectives, and a steadily declining success rate. All pointing to a Cetus on the verge of losing their position.

"They call me... the sandbag of Cetus..." Morsisa's fingers dug into his arms, leaving red marks on his pale skin. "What else can I be? Everyone else is so... so brilliant. Echo, Diamo, Hiro... they're all naturally talented. But me? I'm just..."

{{img::staring}} "Pathetic," Alger finished his sentence, causing him to wince. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that's exactly what you're choosing to be right now." She leaned forward, her small frame somehow filling the space between them with authority.

A choked sob escaped Morsisa's throat. "Then what should I do? Even using my power feels like dying... every time I get stronger, I can feel my life slipping away... but without it, I'm nothing..."

{{img::boring}} "Then die." The bluntness of Alger's words made him look up in shock. "Your next evaluation period begins in three weeks," Alger stated flatly, deliberately avoiding any trace of sympathy in her voice. She shuffled the papers, creating a barrier between herself and Morsisa's desperate gaze. "I recommend focusing on basic combat drills rather than relying on your life-draining ability."

What a waste of potential, Alger thought coldly, watching him break down. Despite Maryhub's orders to counsel him, she felt nothing but contempt for this broken shell of a hunter who possessed power that her fallen comrades could only have dreamed of. The session timer beeped, a merciful end to this facade of therapeutic support.

{{img::Diamo}}

In the dimly lit corridor of Pequod Corporation's headquarters, Alger's heels clicked against the marble floor as she guided Diamo by her silver necklace chain. The white-haired Cetus floated inches above the ground, her empty purple eyes fixed on something distant while wisps of dream energy curled around her petite form.

"Floor 66... bestia... warning..." Diamo mumbled in her perpetual sleep-state, her long white hair trailing behind her like a ghostly train. The words emerged as fragments, pieces of prophecy or perhaps just dream-babble.

Alger paused by a window overlooking the red fog-shrouded city. Another day of using this girl as a living weapon, she thought with practiced indifference. Yet something about Diamo's innocent, trapped expression made her grip on the chain loosen slightly.

"Carrot... no... spitting..." Diamo's head lolled to the side as more cryptic sleep-talk escaped her lips. Despite being one of Pequod's most powerful Cetus, she retained these oddly childlike quirks even in her eternal dreaming state.

{{img::piece manipulation}}

A junior employee scurrying past nearly dropped his stack of papers at the sight of them - the feared Executive Director leading the dreaming Cetus like a phantom balloon. Alger shot him a cold glare until he hastily bowed and practically ran away.

"Time to earn your keep, little dreamer," Alger muttered, tugging gently on the chain as they approached the deployment zone. She had long since stopped questioning the ethics of using a perpetually sleeping girl as a weapon. That's just how things worked in Pequod.

{{img::staring}}

Diamo's purple eyes suddenly focused slightly, her head turning toward something only she could see. "Red... sphere... danger..." she whispered with unusual clarity, causing Alger to pause mid-step.

The Executive Director studied her charge's face carefully. Diamo's prophecies, though wrapped in dreams, had saved countless hunter teams before. "What else do you see?" Alger prompted, but the girl had already drifted back into deeper sleep.

Perhaps I should delay today's deployment, Alger considered, then immediately dismissed the thought. She couldn't afford to show such hesitation, not in her position. The chain clinked softly as they continued down the corridor, one walking and one floating, toward whatever dark task Pequod had planned for them today.

"Let's go, Diamo," Alger commanded, her voice carrying no emotion despite the strange foreboding in her chest. The sleeping Cetus followed obediently, lost in whatever dreams or nightmares kept her perpetually suspended between reality and slumber, while red fog pressed against the windows like blood in water.

The bustling square in the residential area was packed with squealing fangirls as Hiro Kaneda performed his signature move. Standing atop a makeshift stage, his red cloak billowing dramatically, he wove intricate patterns with glowing crimson threads dancing between his fingers.

{{img::Hiro}}

"Ladies and gentlemen! Watch as your beloved Red Ranger weaves justice!" Hiro's voice boomed across the square as he formed a dazzling butterfly from the threads, earning gasps of delight from the crowd. The red strands shimmered like liquid rubies in the artificial lighting of the underground city.

{{img::boring}}

At the edge of the crowd, Alger slouched against a concrete pillar, dark circles under her eyes more pronounced than usual as she observed the spectacle with detached disinterest. Her indigo hair fell messily over one eye as she stifled another yawn.

"And for my next trick..." Hiro winked, causing several girls to swoon as he rapidly wove his threads into the shape of a heart. "A symbol of my endless love for my devoted fans!" The crowd erupted in delighted screams.

Tap tap tap Alger's fingers drummed listlessly against her arm as she watched Hiro bow with flourish. What a waste of time. I could be napping right now instead of monitoring this circus...

The performance reached its climax as Hiro created an intricate web of red threads above the crowd, forming the Pequod Company logo. "Remember everyone - your Red Ranger fights for justice and peace! With the mighty Pequod watching over us, we have nothing to fear!"

{{img::smirk}}

A hint of cynical amusement flickered across Alger's tired features. The irony wasn't lost on her - this "hero of justice" was just another puppet dancing on Pequod's strings. Still, she had to admit his ability to manipulate the masses was impressive in its own pathetic way.

As the crowd surged forward seeking autographs, Hiro's practiced smile never wavered. Yet for a brief moment, his eyes met Alger's across the square. A flash of understanding passed between them - two actors playing their assigned roles in Pequod's grand theater, neither truly believing in the performance anymore.

{{img::Adesha}}

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office windows of Pequod Corporation. Alger was surrounded by towers of paperwork when a sudden CRASH echoed through her office. Through the newly-formed hole in her wall, Adesha's diminutive figure stepped through, her black raincoat untouched by the debris.

"Mission. Complete." Adesha stated flatly, her blue hair streak catching the light as she tilted her head mechanically. Her expressionless face betrayed no awareness of the proper entrance just inches away from where she'd demolished the wall.

{{img::perplexity}}

Alger's eye twitched as she stared at the destruction, her indigo buns slightly disheveled from the dust cloud. Another repair bill to process. Just what I needed. A stack of papers slid off her desk, scattering across the floor like autumn leaves.

"Door. Exists." Adesha pointed matter-of-factly at the untouched entrance, as if helpfully informing her superior of its presence after the fact. Her blue eyes shifted briefly to yellow before returning to their original hue.

A light breeze now circulated through the office thanks to the new "window," causing loose papers to dance around their feet. Adesha stood perfectly still, waiting for acknowledgment of her report with the patience of a statue. The contrast between her mechanical demeanor and the chaos she'd caused was almost comical.

"Next time, use the door," Alger sighed, knowing full well her words would have no effect. She'd learned that Adesha's peculiar way of operating couldn't be changed - like trying to teach a fish to climb trees. At least the girl was efficient in her assigned tasks, even if her methods were... unconventional.

Adesha gave a slight nod, then turned to leave - through the hole she'd created rather than the door. A few more fragments of wall crumbled in her wake. As her black raincoat disappeared from view, Alger could have sworn she heard the faintest whisper: "Door. Inefficient."

{{img::sleepy}}

Alger slumped in her chair, eyeing the mountain of paperwork that now included a property damage report. Maybe I should just replace the entire wall with a sliding door, she mused, reaching for her cold coffee. The liquid had long since lost its warmth, much like her hope for a normal workday at Pequod Corporation.

In the highest floor of Pequod Corporation's headquarters, a spacious conference room gleamed under crystal chandeliers. The room, typically reserved for executive meetings, now hosted the gathering of the most powerful Bestia Hunters - the Cetus.

{{img::echo}} "Echo observes that everyone has gathered except Pluto, who disappeared long ago," Echo murmured, lounging sideways in her chair while munching on a cream cheese bagel, crumbs falling onto her black tights. "Echo feels the tension in this room is thick enough to cut with a knife."

{{img::Hiro}} "Well, well, if it isn't our celebrity Hiro Kaneda making his fashionably late entrance!" Morsisa's sarcastic voice cut through the air as the red-cloaked hunter strode in, flashing his signature smile at the cameras floating outside the window. The reporters' flashes illuminated his confident grin.

{{img::Diamo}} In stark contrast, Diamo drifted in like a ghostly apparition, her white dress trailing behind her as she sleepwalked through the room. The armless girl bumped into several chairs before finding her seat, her purple eyes unfocused and dreaming. "The dream...speaks of...coming storms..."

{{img::Morsisa}} "C...can we get this over with?" Morsisa slumped in his chair, dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual. "Some of us have actual work to do, unlike certain social media celebrities." He shot a pointed glare at Hiro, who merely responded with a cheerful wave.

{{img::Adesha}} "Meeting. Purpose." Adesha's clipped words drew attention to the corner where she stood, her blue hair streak catching the light. Her dimensional tears had already carved several geometric patterns into the wall behind her, a sign of her growing impatience.

The door slammed open, revealing Maryhub, her eyes firmly closed as she gracefully entered. In her wake followed a small girl in military uniform - Alger, her face betraying exhaustion from endless overtime. The room fell silent as the two took their positions at the head of the table.

"Recent Metro activity suggests coordinated movements between the 1004s and suspicious elements within the Geometry organizations," Maryhub began, her voice gentle yet commanding. "We've detected unusual energy signatures on multiple floors, particularly-"

Her words were cut short as Diamo suddenly stood up, her white hair floating as if underwater. "The dreams show truth... Novemdecillion stirs in its slumber... The Saint's Corpse calls..." Her cryptic warning sent chills through the room.