The hall was silent.
Heavy.
Every eye was watching.
The Great Leader stepped forward, his presence filling the space.
"Today," he said, his voice echoing,
"we stand in judgment… of the most evil crime against humanity."
Sloth frowned slightly.
"What crime?"
A sharp sound—
SLAP.
A guard struck him across the face.
"You will not speak while the Great Leader speaks!"
Sloth didn't react.
He slowly turned his head back.
"When I break free…" he said quietly,
"…you're the first."
"Silence!" another guard shouted.
A voice cut through.
"Enough."
A young woman stepped forward.
Greed's eyes widened slightly.
He leaned closer to Sloth.
"It's her…" he whispered.
Sloth didn't look.
"I have eyes too," he said.
The Great Leader raised his hand.
The room fell silent instantly.
His gaze fixed on them.
"Son of the Apple…" he said slowly,
"…and Sloth."
A pause.
"What is your defense
"I am, Precious said."
A woman stepped forward.
The hall shifted subtle.
Her voice was calm, but carried weight.
"The wisdom of this court…" she continued,
"…will not allow this."
Murmurs spread.
The Great Leader's gaze hardened.
Before he could speak—
Another voice rose.
Deep. Measured.
Ancient.
"The court will hear her."
All eyes turned.
At the edge of the chamber stood a figure—still, composed.
The Owl.
Watcher of judgment.
Keeper of balance.
Precious inclined her head slightly.
"Oh, great Owl," she said,
"you give this court its wisdom…
shall I not offer the same?"
A pause.
The Owl studied her.
"…You may speak."
The Great Leader rose slowly.
The air grew heavy.
"I do not care for such weakness," he said coldly.
"Wisdom does not carry my men to strength."
The Owl did not move.
"Oh, great Leader…" the Owl replied,
"…is my presence no longer welcome in the court of men?"
Silence.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
The Leader's eyes flicked toward Precious.
"Why should a woman stand beside me?" he said.
"You are not my queen
"Great Leader… and Great Owl."
All heads turned.
A child stepped forward.
"Your names both carry the same meaning… greatness."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"But this court…"
"…has yet to earn that name."
Silence tightened across the room.
"Shall we make it great," the child continued,
"or fight among ourselves?"
Sloth shifted slightly.
"Greed… who's that?"
Greed narrowed his eyes.
"I don't know."
The Great Leader stood.
"Envy…" he said slowly,
"…you please me."
His gaze shifted—sharp, direct—toward Greed.
"I wish to call you son…"
A pause.
"…but you have not earned it."
Greed's eyes burned.
"You threw me into the forest!"
The words broke through the silence.
Envy stepped forward, calm.
"This court will not host your rage."
Greed froze.
Rage…
So that's what it was.
The feeling in his chest.
Burning.
Alive.
"…Rage," he whispered.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Wonderful."
His mood shifted.
"Great ones," Precious said, stepping forward again,
"please… allow me to speak."
The Leader gave a small, dismissive gesture.
"Continue."
"These boys," she said,
"cannot be accused of a crime so great…"
"They do not even know the art of war."
Envy tilted his head.
"If that is true…
then how did Sloth kill the Apple soldiers?"
Precious didn't hesitate.
"They were attacked."
Sloth's eyes opened slightly.
How does she know?
"In this tribe," Precious continued,
"we honor strength."
She gestured toward Greed and Sloth.
"These boys… could become that strength."
The Owl watched, intrigued.
She may be right.
Envy's expression shifted.
What if I had that strength…
The Great Leader said nothing.
But in his mind—
The visions returned