Our condolences...

"He is the one." The squad leader said, handing a chart to his boss.

    "You were able to determine that from just nine months of him being here?" she replied, going over the chart, doubt in her words. As she scanned through the pages, a frown formed on her face. "We're sure these numbers are correct? Do you test him again, and again?"

      "I did. Three times each."

      "Jesus, you could have killed him! He's only seven."

      "That's the thing, Boss; every time I tested him, he scored higher than the last. I don't know how that's possible but it is."

      She dropped the folder down on her desk, taking a seat. "You know what this means?"

      "He's too perfect to be a soldier...but he can be of use."

        She nodded, tapping her fingers against the desk. "You already have the letters, right?"

        "I have someone working on it as we speak."

        "Such a shame, such a shame. What a waste."

        "We are sorry to say that despite our very best trainers trying to improve [JONATHAN LEE], the results were displeasing to say the least. We're sorry to say that [JONATHAN LEE] has failed the Tests, and we have decided to let him go. Our condolences..."

        She dropped down to her knees, not finishing the letter. A choked out sob escaped her, as her fists slammed against the floor.

      "He's gone, he's gone, he failed, he failed! My SON, my baby, my baby!" sobs wrecked her body, as she kept hitting the tile floor. Her husband at hearing the commotion, ran to her side, placing a gentle hand on her back, and holding her other hand.

      Nine months. Nine months, and Jonathan had failed. Metias had high hopes for his son despite his age, and he was selfish enough to force Jonathan to promise that he would make it alive.

      Metias knew what those tests were; a grown man was lucky enough to pass the tests. But Jonathan? Despite being a child prodigy, he was just that-still a child. Metias had been lucky to be one of the few to pass those tests.

      He pulled Imacel close against him, hugging her tight as she sobbed. Tears dripped down his own eyes, placing a kiss on her forehead. There were no words to comfort either of them on this, nothing that could make this better. And traditionally, Metias would sprout some nonsense on how this was for the good of their future, their country.

      What a bunch of bull shit that was. Why did it take him losing his son for him to realize that?

    Imacel's sobs went fainter, and fainter, her face pressed against his chest. Her hold on him did not loosen.

    Metias gently picked her up, taking her to their bedroom. He didn't glance at Jonathan's open bedroom, avoiding it as best as he could. Placing Imacel in bed, he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bed, face in his hands.

    It was only an hour later when he let himself break.