The four Archons all turned toward the man at the head of the table. Leon broke the silence first. "I have one question. That vessel you used to bring us to Vespa — what exactly is it?"
The Chairman smiled. "Ah. That's our flagship, and you've likely already heard of it. That's the Amnesia — the only ship in history to enter Terria's orbit and make it back out again."
Patricia slammed her palm flat against the table, leaning forward. "Are you telling us this organization was responsible for the attack on Terria seven years ago?"
The Chairman laughed at her reaction, settling forward onto the table with both elbows. "Well, my friends, I brought all four of you here on the strength of a single promise — one none of you could bring yourselves to refuse. I promised each of you access to our newest invention, something capable of standing toe to toe with even the empire's own God Orbitons." A holographic display flickered to life above the table, showing the silhouette of an entirely new kind of war machine. "Allow me to introduce the Fallen Unit — our latest orbiton, built with power on par with the empire's God Units. Each one runs on what we call an artificial core, fused with a particular kind of living organism at its heart, much the same way the God Units are built." He let that settle for a moment. "As of today, we've manufactured exactly ten. Six already have pilots assigned. That leaves four available." His gaze drifted toward the sea beyond the window. "One for each of you. But there's a single condition attached to that offer — and I'll be honest with you, if we can't come to terms on it, we simply won't be able to hand the units over."
Old man Silver studied him for a moment before speaking. "And what, exactly, do you want from us in return?"
The Chairman chuckled. "That's something only she can explain."
Back in Fansilia, a royal decree went out announcing that the trial of the former Duke of Kaelthorn would be held in public, at the royal court of Terria itself, with the full consul summoned to attend and the Emperor expected to appear in person. Every citizen of the empire with access to a media feed gathered in front of a screen to watch. The nobility packed the court, each of them carrying their own private agenda into the room, but united on one point: everyone already knew how the sentencing was going to end.
The one notable absence was Leonora. She wasn't coming — couldn't. Barely able to pull herself out of bed, she was in no condition to sit and watch Youri be condemned to death in front of an audience. In her place, she asked her brother to stand for the family, and Roland agreed. For the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he had nothing to do with nobility at all. Youri had always felt like an older brother to him, and even he couldn't hold back tears once the proceedings began. But grief doesn't ask permission, and duty doesn't wait for it either.
The great doors of the court swung open, revealing the full expanse of the hall — tiered seating ringing the entire chamber, the throne rising above everything at the very top, and just beneath it, the raised podium where the judge's seat waited. The nobles filed in and found their places quickly. The judge arrived alongside them: Dalton Lang, a man built for the role, tall and composed, gray hair combed back neatly, walking in step with Alan as the two of them made their way toward the podium.
They weren't the last to enter, though. The doors to the court's second level opened, and the Emperor himself stepped through. Every single person in the chamber rose in perfect unison and bowed as he crossed the floor toward the throne. Once he was seated, Dalton brought his hammer down once, opening the trial, and cleared his throat before addressing the room.
"My fellow nobility. We gather here today to witness the sentencing of a traitor who once walked among us — briefly, though even that brief span is a shame we'll all carry regardless. Today, we take that back." He raised his voice slightly. "Bring the traitor in."
The great doors opened once more, and Youri was led inside, still bound in his immobility suit, flanked by two royal knights. He walked the length of the hall slowly, his eyes fixed on his own feet, until he reached the center of the chamber and finally lifted his head to look past Alan and Dalton both. His body was bruised and cut nearly everywhere visible, and yet he stood straight, unbowed, entirely unbothered by the room full of people watching him. Something about that composure seemed to irritate Dalton, who brought the hammer down twice in quick succession.
"By the authority granted to me by the Emperor, I hereby strip you of your title as Duke, and of the name belonging to the great house of Kaelthorn. No traitor deserves to carry that name — least of all you." Another strike of the hammer. "We now proceed to the sentencing of Youri Kronos." He turned to the royal knights flanking him. "Remove his mouth covering. We require his plea for each of the crimes he stands accused of."
The knights complied, and Dalton struck the hammer again before turning his full attention on Youri. "Youri Kronos. You stand accused of treason and endangerment of Terrian society. Before this court, you may plead guilty or innocent. What is your plea?"
Youri only looked at him, expression unmoved, and said nothing at all.
Dalton's frown deepened as he brought the hammer down. "Very well, then. On the charge of treason and endangerment, I hereby find you guilty." The hammer fell again. "Your second charge: the murder of a noble, and collaboration with known criminals — namely, the crew of the Tartarusios. How do you plead?"
Again, Youri said nothing.
"I see. If that's how you'd prefer this to go." The hammer came down once more. "On the charge of murder and organized criminal activity, I hereby find you guilty." Dalton struck the hammer a final time and looked at Youri once more as he read the last charge aloud. "For the murder and execution of over ten thousand soldiers — how do you plead?"
For the first time, Youri lifted his head fully, his expression cold and steady.
"Guilty."
The answer caught Dalton visibly off guard. He stood there a moment, studying Youri's face, before bringing the hammer down hard and rising to his feet.
"Given the evidence before this court, your sentence has been determined. Youri Kronos, I hereby sentence you to death. By the Emperor's own request, the execution will be carried out publicly, in the royal square before the palace."
The hammer fell one final time, and Youri's fate was sealed — with one last, deliberate cruelty attached to it: the entire empire would be watching when it happened.