The Faded Root
The ink bleeds into the parchment, a dark vein spreading across the white, and you watch it shatter the silence of the High Court. It is not a signature. It is a fracture. The word *Guilty* is stamped in heavy, black typeface, but beneath it, the paper crumbles into ash, flaking away like dead skin until there is nothing left but the bare, wooden table and the weight of your own breath. You are...
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