Far from the screams and rusted bars of the prison, Amon stood before a massive glass pane overlooking his city—a place cloaked in silence, fear, and order.
Behind him, a council of robed figures spoke in hushed tones, unsure whether to disturb the sovereign's silence.
He finally spoke, his voice calm as ever.
"I know what you're all thinking," he said. "That the prison system has become... excessive. That the surveillance is suffocating. That people live in chains, not peace."
He turned around, his golden eyes glowing.
"But you see, what they call peace is simply balance. And balance is fragile."
He raised a hand, and a holographic map of continents appeared—divided by colors, beliefs, ideologies.
"This world is a machine of conflict. The moment you release the pressure, the gears grind. War follows. And war doesn't ask who is innocent."
He walked toward the map, tapping a red zone.
"I've seen civilizations burn because someone 'felt' free. I've seen belief tear friends into enemies. So no, I will not loosen the cage. Not when the monsters live in every man's heart."
The council remained silent.
"This prison," Amon continued, "is not cruelty. It's mercy. It holds back a greater evil: the truth of man."
He waved the map away, and for a moment, silence returned.
But deep inside, Amon knew someone had slipped through the cracks. And that someone—Sunny—was already starting to burn.