"Richter enters, demanding the Magistrate sign over all remaining city energy bonds to Diana’s personal account."
The Supreme Magistrate, a man whose word had once dictated the flow of capital across every district in Aethelgard, felt the air leave his lungs as if he had been struck by an invisible blade. He stared at the documents spread before him, the ink still glistening under the harsh glow of the desk lamp. His hands trembled so violently that the expensive fountain pen slipped from his fingers, clattering against the marble floor. Richter stood before him, calm and composed, a stark contrast to the unfolding chaos that had already claimed the city’s industrial might and its naval supremacy.
"You cannot be serious," the Magistrate whispered, his voice cracking with a mix of exha
