The meeting was meant to be quick, a simple rundown of basic procedure for the higher scientists. They all gathered in one by one, wordlessly taking their seats at the long reflective table. The room was illuminated only be the large screens that hung off every wall, scrolling through necessary documents and preset presentations. It was a mediocre scene, an everyday occurrence everyone would take in stride. A simple in and out that should've been second nature to more seasoned employees of the foundation. The chairs were gradually filled, until they all sat in silence with hung expressions, bleakly waiting for the supervisor.
A Doberman was the last to enter, holding a set of papers in her teeth and scanning the room. She counted each head and, satisfied that all the notable officers and scientists were in attendance, walked to the head seat. She was hesitant to take the center spotlight, paws already sweating once all eyes were on her. Their expectant glances seemed to burn through her fur, and she put forth all her willpower to keep collected.
"Thank you all for being here." She said, shuffling the papers in front of her. "I've called you all here to discuss Archline's future plans, a way we can move forward from our recent setbacks."
An unamused scientist spoke up. "The term is damage control."
"That's not a term I prefer using," she flattened her ears at him. "Think of it more as, identifying our problems and putting a solution toward them." Placing a paw on one of the papers, she slid it underneath a machine, and the giant monitors surroundings them quickly displayed its image. "Two months ago, we had thirty-seven bioweapons fully developed and ready for testing. Today... we have zero."
"That wasn't our fault!" Stood up a cat, one of the lead genetic researchers. "Those things were perfectly capable of following orders; they were bred to be obedient to us! And the Mentiarga-"
The Doberman finished his sentence for him. "-Died like the rest, remember?" She growled. "Do we need any clearer evidence that we've been doing the wrong things?" The room went silent, an air of skepticism circulating the table. "Think about it," she continued. "Think about what we're capable of, the super organisms, the medicines and vaccines! We don't need to make bioweapons!" She hit her paw on the table's surface to punctuate her words. "Think about what would happen if we came forward with disease cures, investing in medicines and helping people in the world! Not only would we be more successful, but the general public would worship us! We'd be saviors!"
"What are you trying to do with all this?" A retriever raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes at her.
"I'm trying to conceptualize a new path for the Archline Foundation." She said, a faint smile peeling on her face. "I'll gather my ideas and take them higher command. They can't ignore me forever; I might even get an audience with Dutch himself."
"That's bold," the retriever said. "You really believe we're capable of this?"
"We always have been!" She pressed. "Why do we spend so much time asking if we can do something instead of just doing it? We have the research, the money, the medicines are practically lying in our storage compartments right now! Why can't we just start?"
Another dog spoke up, an Australian shepherd, and one of the few leading chemists. "Because that's not what we're being told to do."
"Exactly," the Doberman pointed. "That's what I'm hoping to change." A determined aura began glow around her, brightening as she took charge of the room. "I am going to convince the higher ups the real good in putting our skills to the truest potential. Mark my words-" She proudly stood up, rising before her peers. "When I'm done, the Archline Foundation will start anew, and place our power into the greater-"
Her sentence was forcefully cut off with a powerful slam of impact, making the entire room flinch in their chairs. The two doors at the end of the room were flung open in one dramatic motion, smashing against the walls and making them shake. Each participant slowly turned around hesitantly, their composed demeanors breaking one by one as they witnessed the terrifying presence enter the area. Some of them instantly straightened up, while others sat paralyzed with widened eyes, and the remaining few were near cowering in their seats. The Doberman, once filled with the spark of drive and imitative, now faltered as the breath left her body, a wave of fear coursing through her.
"Uh-" she stammered, legs already shaking. "Executive Dutch, I... I wasn't aware you'd be visiting us."
A tall dog entered the room, his short fur black with brown splotches, and a sharpened body that carved his jagged form. Dutch glanced around at the participants, flicking his eyes at each of their terrified statures. He slowed walked around the left side with methodical movements, his black tail following him in the air. He wore a black jacket that tightly clung to his upper body, its leather meticulously cleaned and reflective. He wore no uniform, no tag, no badge, yet every cowering body before him would've never needed one to recognize him.
Dutch approached the speaker, staring her down. He was easily a foot taller than her, reaching even higher with his pointed ears. "You're in my seat, Rhisa."
"Uh- right!" She stammered, hastily scrambling out of his way. Her papers were dropped to the floor, crashing into a mess that she made no attempt to stop and pick up. Rhisa stood only to look around the room with bated breath. "There's... there's no other empty chairs."
"Then stand." Dutch growled, baring his teeth as he took his place. Looming his veering eyes at the room, making note of each pitiful subordinate before him, he glanced down at one of Rhisa's papers left on the table. "So... what's all this?"
"Oh, that's not-" Rhisa held out a paw, but the executive was already reading it.
He was quiet for a few moments, his body still and thoughtful as he read. Not a single word was spoken by anyone, being cooked alive by the tension as they awaited Dutch's next word. No one knew what he would do, some expected a lashing, others thought a dead body would soon be on their hands.
Slowly leaning back up, Dutch uttered only a single thing. "Interesting." He rested both paws on the table, leaning back slightly.
Unable to stand her own nerves, Rhisa began spluttering. "Executive, please, I know what this looks like but I have ideas!" Her ideas all came out at once, spilling into a garbled mess. "Medicines, vaccines, uh- health... things! You see I think Archline has the potential to remake ourselves after our recent string of failures, and-"
"Failures?" Dutch said quizzically, tilting his sharpened head to the side. The other scientists all shrunk in their seats, a sickening pit of dread washing over them. They watched Dutch slowly rise out from his seat, towering over the shaking animal. "We've struck the vein of prosperity, and you claim we've failed?" He approached Rhisa, menacingly staring her down. "We've uncovered priceless data from our field tests, designed gold mines of medicines, stretched the very fabric of possibility by our sheer intelligence and ability, and you claim we've failed?" His voice rose slightly. "Rhisa, the only failures here," he leaned in close to her with a hardened gaze. "Are little insects who claim my company and think they know better of its direction."
Rhisa flattened her ears, holding her paws up defensively. "Executive, I meant no disrespect- Ghhak!!"
Dutch's paw shot forward like a bullet, striking into Rhisa's throat and pinning her into the wall. It was a slamming impact, Rhisa opening her mouth to scream, but was unable to with her airway pushed closed. In a defensive panic she tried to push her attacker off, but he was completely unphased, staring into her fearful eyes as she fought for her life. He held her for a few seconds, just enough for her eyes to briefly gloss over, then released her from his hold. She collapsed to the floor in a coughing fury, heaving for air while Dutch merely licked his paw.
Her adrenaline racing, Rhisa held out an arm. "Dutch, please, I didn't mean-"
A bloody shock hit her body as Dutch clamped her teeth into her scruff, slicing into her skin and barely grazing her muscle layer. Violent poison coursed through his body, supercharging his blood into flaring steroids. In a haunting display of might, Dutch whipped his head and flung Rhisa across the room. She sailed into the far wall, painfully crashing into it with such velocity that it shattered the monitor screen, snapping glass shards into all angles. The Doberman collapsed to the floor in crying pain, contorting her body as she whimpered on the floor.
Dutch's strength was inhumane, capable of feats no dog should ever be physically able to perform. Something about him was different, wrong, something that fueled his drive. It was impossible for any normal dog to fling another in such manner like that, the strength required was immeasurable, yet he had executed it like second nature. Whatever Dutch had done to himself, he walked away from it with horrifying resolve and abilities that struck fear into those who witnessed them. No one at the table dared speak up at the violent action, fearing the receiving end of his brute force.
"Does anyone else have any... opinions?" Dutch peered over his shoulder, his voice cooled and collected.
Silence.
"Good," he returned to his seat. "No more talk of failures now... in fact, let's scrap the word altogether." He observed the fearful nods that came his way. "Make no mistake," he addressed the room with a sharp, yet powerful tone. "The Archline Foundation has not yet fallen, and while I'm in control it never will. We've already uncovered our next project, and it's unlike anything we've ever done before. Needlessly to say, I expect full competence from all of you, or there will be consequences."
He neatly crossed one paw over the other, his eyes shining with drive. "And when we finish building the Gates of Heaven, the other side shall open to us. And everything inside..." His eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest grin pulling his face. "Shall be ours for the taking."