The Sky-Palace arena stood packed with thousands of Ironseed soldiers. Banners snapped in the high wind. Lord Harlan knelt in the center of the judgment platform, wrists bound, face pale.
The memory-probe device from Echo Academy hummed beside him, its crystal needles still buried in his temples. Blue light flickered across the sky, replaying his confessions for everyone to see.
Aiden sat on the raised throne overlooking the arena. Elizabeth stood at his right, armor gleaming, eyes cold. The crowd had gone dead silent when the probe first activated. Now murmurs spread like fire.
"Lord Harlan," Aiden said, voice carrying across the field through amplification runes. "Twenty-three years. You fed the Aetheric Dominion every major movement we made. Supply routes. Troop counts. Names of loyal officers."
Harlan lifted his head. "For a better empire—"
