"Order in the court!"
The judge bangs his peculiar gavel, a metallic mallet with a wooden handle.
The judge appears to be a muscular bald man. He wears the same standard-issue jumpsuit. His moustache extends and connects with his sideburns. There is a horizontal scar on his forehead. Each of his eyes is different: silver on the left and gold on the right.
[Whoa! Who's that!]
"As General of the Zoldier Forces in the city of Burn Abbey, I hereby declare that this court is now in session! The Honourable Judge Hannibal Max presiding!"
[He's the General?!]
The General carefully placed the gavel in front of him. Another individual hands him a robe and a judicial wig. The headpiece is a personal touch, as it is handcrafted.
"All rise."
[He's also the judge?!]
The General, now also the judge, said as if he were a different person. The crowd behind Zeth and Zach stands up. When Hannibal sits, they follow as well.
"We are here today for the hearing of three individuals involved in the attack at the market plaza downtown. They are suspected of treason and terrorism. I was told the three of them would be here, but I can only see one. Where are they, and who is representing you?"
Hannibal reads through his papers after looking at the defendant. His stern appearance gives an air of seriousness in the room.
"I will be representing him, Your Highness! Zachary Stein, rank Spezial Zero squad captain at your service! His name is Zeth. The other two are currently unavailable because I gave them a beating!"
Zach stands up beside Zeth, raising his hand. The crowd behind them gasps in disbelief.
"Zachary, I believe you also requested the release of the prisoners and put them under your supervision. Why?"
"I saw their potential, My Lord!"
"Reports say your team sacrificed itself in the attack. We have many capable Zoldiers in our ranks to replace them. Why are you interested in recruiting these traitors?"
"Yes, I led many Zoldiers in my team. Most of them left or died. I know my reputation as a squad leader! Yet my skills are the best, so what?! Believe me when I say that the three of them are capable, your grace!"
Zeth stayed quiet, and he was appalled after hearing Zach. The seated crowd murmurs audibly, the judge whacks his mallet once, and everyone goes silent.
"Still, you will need two more for your squad. Three of them, plus you, make a total of four. You need five men, plus you, to make it a team. Yet, you requested that you don't want more men?"
"I am worth two men!"
The crowd laughed quietly. Then the noises died down.
"That still leaves you with one more! A squad consists of six! Why do I have to tell you basic information? Besides, your selection is rather… Strange. We don't need a defector. He might be a double agent! One Zystem-less girl who might be a liability, and another one with no documents to prove his existence? I say, these are incompetent and suspicious collections of individuals! Not to mention, very young!"
"Your excellency, if I may, but I don't think you have to say that against my clients."
"Oh, forgive me."
Hannibal stands up and removes his judge outfit, putting the wig aside. He then wears his glasses, adjusts them, and then clears his throat.
"I say these kids are guilty, your honour!"
[He's also their prosecutor!?]
Quiet.
"And what use are they for the Force? A defector with fists that swell for a Zystem? Ridiculous! A girl with no powers and her only redeeming quality is her enthusiasm for joining our ranks? Suspicious! And a kid with no legal documents? Need I say more?!"
Hannibal's voice was loud. He smacked the table with his hand. He quickly wears the robe and wig and sits down, hitting the gavel once more.
"Order! Order!"
The crowd murmurs and nods in approval of what he said.
Zach stares at Zeth, who has been so quiet all this time. For a while now, he has been contemplating his defence. Zach waits for Zeth to do something.
"Your honour!"
Finally, Zeth puts his hand up.
"Hmm?"
Hannibal lowers his glasses, which he forgot to remove.
"My name is Zeth, and I am not from here!"
The crowd gasps, and they begin whispering to one another. Their faces display disapproval and contempt.
"But where I'm from is not important! Who I am is irrelevant! But I can tell you what I am— I am an underling, and I was the reason why two hostile underlings came here. I was the one they were after!"
The crowd grew restless and louder. Zach smirks, amused. Hannibal sternly glares at Zeth.
"Kid, that is impossible. Underling kidnappers are only after newborns with a Zystem! They only target towns outside the cities, so why would they even go after you?"
"True. I wasn't a newborn when I got my powers."
Hannibal is not impressed. However, Zach's eyes widened, genuinely shocked.
"A doctor injected—"
"Ha! Forgive my team member, your majesty! He was about to excuse himself because of his medical condition!"
Zach suddenly covers Zeth's mouth before he can continue the word. Hannibal, along with the crowd, was a bit bewildered by what had just happened.
"Medical condition?"
Hannibal's brow lifted, and he seemed not to be aware of the hospital records.
"Yes! In fact, I found his medical records to prove that he came here in Burns for a checkup after a weird diagnosis! Ha!"
Zach nervously chuckles, and he smirks as he tries to make something up.
"Which is?"
"His Zystem was just awakened the day before the attack! You see, ladies and gentlemen, he's a late bloomer! Causing the enemy to attack, thinking we have a newborn underling in town!"
The crowd let out a synchronized wave of awe, their tones sounding as if they finally understood Zeth's predicament.
[Late bloomer? Ha!]
"Is that true? Is that even possible?"
Hannibal looks at Zeth, awaiting a response. Zach nudges him by the shoulder, staring at him intensely. Zeth gulps, not knowing what to do.
"Y-Yes!"
The crowd murmurs in approval, whispers of agreement, nods, and smiles finally appear on their faces. An underling loyal to the Force, after all, is good news.
Hannibal leaned back in his chair, and it let out a loud creak. He stroked his chin, contemplating his verdict.
Zach turns to Zeth and smiles, showing him a thumbs-up. But Zeth couldn't help but wonder why Zach wanted to hide the fact about the doctor. He thought he should confront him after this.
"I have to consult with the doctors and officers regarding this fact. But I think before we end this and give you my verdict, I shall put you on probation and put us all in recess. I think that's how judges say it."
Hannibal said as he looked for his gavel.
But before anyone could utter a word again, there was a rising panic outside. The distant noise and screams suddenly fade in. Everyone in the court turns to each other, asking what the ruckus could be. Frantic footsteps and faint growls bled into the courtroom.
A ripple of fear and concerned voices grew, and everyone exchanged confused glances. Then—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion shook them all, shaking the building's foundation. The shockwave moved a few chairs and tables. A few stumbled and fell. Hannibal quickly stands up. Zach remains composed, focusing on the source of the disturbance.
ROAR!
A terrifying bellow sent every window shattering all at once. Broken pieces of glass flew, and the shards rained down everywhere. On the other side—Zenos.
The Zenos are attempting to overrun and possibly eat them all, breaking and entering the already damaged windows—everyone inside panics.
The courtroom doors burst, forcefully breaking them wide open. The sheer number of mindless undead frenzies all over, pushing through inside.
The crowd rushes towards where Zach and Hannibal stand, and the few Zoldiers try their best to shield them from the wave. Zephyr, who had been inside all along, stands in front of Zeth and the others, who just watch everything unfold.
At the center of the massive volume of Zenos entering the room, sat a figure carried like royalty atop the grotesque backs of the dead. This individual lounged flamboyantly on their throne made of flesh.
The throne in question is a collection of Zenos with their bodies bending, flexing, stretching, and contorting in unimaginable ways just to appear ergonomic. Underneath, Zenos crawls, staggers, and sways as they take turns carrying the throne. They move with precise coordination, as if they have a mind, or worse: a master.
When the dust settled, the crowd screamed even louder, now clearly seeing the undead spectacle. The other Zenos, however, stand by forming a wall between the Force and their master.
[A Zystem that controls Zenos? Interesting.]
The person sitting on the undead throne stands up and fashionably poses before speaking.
"You like my entrance?!"