"The Bureau is waiting for your testimony," the Adjudicator of Procedure repeated, her voice flat and cold.
The words landed like a gavel strike. All eyes—the team's, the other Adjudicators', and FaeLina's—locked on Gilda. She stood in silence, feeling their collective gaze press down on her like a physical weight. They expected a plea, an argument, some kind of defense. But, she had none.
Gilda was a woman of sieges, scars, and steel—not speeches. And now, her only weapon… was to talk.
She inhaled slowly, her shoulders squaring with the same grim resolve she brought to the battlefield.
'Right', she thought. 'Time to talk about axes'.
With that final thought, she moved. Her boots echoed faintly as she walked into the center of the vast, circular chamber. The soft scuff of leather on polished stone was the only sound in the quiet room. She stopped, planted her feet, and unslung her weapon.
