The wound has yet to heal.

Quick, repetitive taps echoed inside the small space of an elevator. As he glared at the digital screen displaying floor numbers like the countdown of a bomb, Nathaniel Carter felt his irritation rising. The elevator soon reached the lobby, and when the doors opened he found himself face to face with another one the council members.

"General Carter…" The look on the woman's face betrayed her anxiousness.

"General Walsh." Nathaniel smiled, his previous irritation seemingly gone.

Father time was especially harsh on Rosita Walsh. Wrinkles littered her face and white took over her hair if she went too long without dyeing it. Looking at her, one couldn't believe she was still in her forties.

Nathaniel felt pity every time he met the woman. Being responsible for the First Settlement was a constant source of stress, and though she did her best, some things were just too much.

'I guess the news has already reached her…'