The chamber fell into hushed silence.
Lucy's silver eyes swept over the four kneeling thieves. "You dared raise your blades against this holy place. You sought to steal what was consecrated to the Goddess, meant to bless the harvests of thousands. In doing so, you not only dishonored the Empire but spat upon the Moon's blessing itself."
Jack laughed bitterly, his voice hoarse. "Spare me your piety. We were ordered here. Do you think your little rituals mean anything to men who've already seen death a hundred times?"
A murmur ran through the crowd, but Lucy's gaze did not waver. "And yet here you kneel, chained, stripped of your blades, trembling before the Goddess you mock."
Silas sneered, his teeth red with blood. "Chains mean nothing. Kill us now. Others will rise. The Syndicate doesn't die."
A hush fell at that word — Syndicate. Even the guards stiffened. The name was whispered like poison in the underworld, but never had it been spoken openly in the sacred chamber.
