“What comes after that, Wolf?” The muffled man’s voice shattered inro fragments upon it’s escape from the mask. His voice was in the form of a yell, piercing the eardrums of the man in the chair. The tiny room reflected his shout, bouncing off each corner like a pinball machine.

A heavy silence followed, the weight of they’re words dangling in the humid air. A singular tear sprouted from under the mask of the man, unseen by the one in the chair, yet somehow felt. Reaper shoots his head away from the man, as if hearing an explosion from outside. In a swift motion, Reaper wipes the tear away and slams his fist on the table. The stacks of files and handful of guns shake in response.

“What am I supposed to do about the paperwork? The MIA reports? The blood on your hands pales in comparison to the ink I must spill!” Reaper’s voice reached a volume where everyone on their floor could hear his words, yet his head still faced away.

“With all due respect, sir, my battalion refused to listen to my orders. They are too blame.” Wolf claimed, his eyes narrowed on the loose wooden planks beneath his feet. Reaper darted his head in the direction of Wolf.

“You,” Reaper paused, choking on his tight throat, “you worthless man! You are the one who disobeyed my orders, not them! They are innocent!” Reaper spoke, his voice not becoming any softer as the conversation continues.

“They refused to heed my instructions! I had to change them in order for them to understand!” Wolf said, standing out of his chair.

“Ever since you began service here, me and all the generals specifically instructed you _not _to go rogue!” Reaper remarked, snatching the rank insignia attached to Wolf’s shirt. “You are a disgrace you heartless serial killer!” Reaper spoke, chucking the insignia out the window of the room. Wolf froze momentarily, staring at the open window. Before Reaper managed to react, Wolf plummeted his fist into Reaper’s chest. The victim bent forward, as Wolf’s knee collided with Reaper’s face. The injured general stumbled backwards and collapsed against the wall.

“I earned those stripes! All generals make miscalculations!” Wolf argued. Reaper stood up, not a single word emanating.

“Generals make miscalculations, but you are the first in history to make a 3,000-lives-on-the-line miscalculation! Did any of your soldiers try to argue?” Reaper asked, resting an arm around his chest.

“So what if they did?”

“You think your a shepherd who can just lead his lambs into dens of wolves! When they argue against you, you sentence them to death! The lambs must be heeded and the shepherds silenced!” Reaper said, dashing forward and wrapping his hands around Wolf’s neck. “Words are wasted on those who do not listen!” Reaper slammed Wolf against the wall, then slammed him against it again. Wolf tried to kick and punch an escape route, but Reaper tossed him across the room in retaliation.

“Message received, sir!” Wolf assured. Panicked, Wolf began slowly walking backwards towards the door. Reaper sprinted towards Wolf and wrapped his hands around his chest, bringing him to the ground. After two punches connected to Wolf’s face, he was unconscious. Reaper calmly stood up and marched over to his desk. Snatching a walkie-talkie, he began speaking.

“I need medical attention in my office immediately. General Wolf has fallen and hit his head.”