Chapter 77. Smoke and Mirrorcasts

Twenty Hours to Verdict

The city pulsed like a wire strung too tight. Even the clouds over Forge Tower shimmered strangely—silver ripples spreading across the sky like breath on glass. On every public screen, one line flashed like a countdown to execution:

INQUIRY VERDICT IN: 19:42:51

Inside Ledger’s neural command hub, the hum of data loops droned like tension incarnate. Harper stood at the executive console, her arms folded, her silhouette a cipher of composed rage.

The surrounding screens were chaos: scrolling sentiment threads, economic fluctuations, threat assessments, and hundreds of slowed video clips of her face in motion.

Lucien stood to her left. Composed, but with that ever-present undercurrent of moral strain.

“Support is volatile,” he said. “After the confession went public, support collapsed. Barely one in ten still stood with her.”

Harper didn’t look away from the screen. “Let it dip. Let them sit in truth for once.”

Luc