The Deadman

Gia Silva, the Founder of the LORES Consortium now walks before the leaders of the world. In this chamber, they seem to examine the woman who calmly walks without a shred of her emotion.

Long silver hair and rubellite eyes.

She wears a robe that was inscribed with complicated runic lines.

The nobility that carries herself with as she moves, heads turn to watch her progress. Her steps are measured and precise, each movement carried out with a graceful economy of motion. Her posture is upright and confident, exuding a sense of nobility and authority. She radiates an intimidating charm, commanding respect and attention without saying a single word. Every eye is drawn to her, and no one dares to cross her path. She walks with an elegance that is undeniable, leaving a lasting impression on all who witness it.

This was Gia Silva.

Then the doors to the chamber swung open, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to the figure standing in the doorway, and a collective gasp escaped their lips. The man was tall and menacing, with piercing eyes and a cold, hard expression. He was dressed in white attire, with a long coat that brushed the ground behind him. He walked with a slow, measured stride, his steps echoing through the silent room.

As he approached the front of the courtroom, all present could feel the fear radiating off of him. His very presence seemed to fill the room with a sense of dread, and no one dared to meet his gaze. He took his seat at the table, his eyes sweeping over the crowd with a cold, calculating look.

Sir Gregory Hawke, the one they called the holder of the flaming sword, was a familiar myth to these people. A living legend that held the flaming sword of god for a very long time.

He called the proceedings to order. Lady Silva, with a stony expression, was led in by a priest and seated at the table. Across from her, the ‘prosecutors’ stood, flipping through a thick stack of documents.

The inquisitor began the ‘trial’ by reading the charges against the Lady of Wisteria. Gia Silva listened impassively, her face betraying no emotion. As the inquisitor finished, another inquisitor stood and began his opening statement. He outlined the evidence that he would present, his voice dripping with contempt as he described the defendant's alleged crimes.

Gia Silva stood up, her voice calm and measured in contrast to the inquisitor. She argued that the evidence against her was flimsy and that there was reasonable doubt as to her guilt.

The trial proceeded, with both sides presenting their cases and presenting their evidence. The tension in the chamber was palpable as the two sides sparred and the holder of the flaming sword listened attentively. As the day drew to a close, the holder of the flaming sword declared a recess until the following morning. The trial would continue, with the fate of the Lady hanging in the balance.

She knew that everyone against her was strong, and she braced herself for the difficult battle ahead.

As the trial proceeded, Gia Silva could feel the weight of the accusations bearing down on her, and she knew that she had to find a way to defend herself.

With the recess over she stood on the stand facing her enemies and allies. They answered their questions with confidence, her voice strong and unwavering. She knew that her future was on the line and she was determined to do everything in her power to defend herself and prove her innocence.

Then it came to Gia Silva that she has no need to be proven innocent.

Why did she care about these people's thoughts?

From the first place she never was the type to bow her head down.

She stood quietly in the stand of the chamber , her hands on her waist. She had a look of calm on her face, but there was a fire burning in her eyes that betrayed her true feelings. She felt that she had been wronged, and she was not about to let it slide.

As the minutes ticked by, Gia's patience began to wear thin. She had been waiting for hours, and her anger was slowly building. But still, she remained standing, her expression serene.

Finally, she had had enough. Her voice was quiet, but there was a note of steel in it that could not be ignored. She launched into a tirade, her words measured and controlled but filled with a tranquil fury that was all the more powerful for its restraint.

As she spoke, the crowd’s face paled, and they knew that they were in trouble. Gia Silva was not one to be crossed, and they knew that they had made a grave mistake.  Gia Silva's  anger had been building for too long, and now it had reached a boiling point. They knew that they were in for a long and difficult conversation, but they also knew that they deserved every word that was coming their way.

As she continued, her voice grew louder, and her anger became more and more apparent. The crowd could see the veins bulging in her neck, and they knew that they were in for a long and difficult lecture.

Finally, she reached the climax of her tirade, and the crowd flinched as she slammed her fist down on the table. They knew that they had messed up, and they were terrified of what would happen next.

But as Gia took a deep breath and composed herself, the crowd realized that they had nothing to fear. She was angry, but she was also in control. And as she finished her tirade  the crowd knew that they had been in the presence of something truly powerful and awe-inspiring.

The world’s against her

Everyone spoke like they wanted something from her. Yet she did not bow her head. She did not cower in front of them. Hair like silver. Eyes clear and empty as if she’s merely looking at illusions.

“You come to me accusing me of summoning a demon. So what will you do about it?"

She said it as if she's mocking them.

"Perhaps, I did. The question is whether you become my friend or enemy. While all of you bicker and fight for what’s left. My people will be out there in the stars. You can cheer about your cultures and laud your own histories while making sure that this planet becomes your grave.”

She travels her gaze on the crowd that gathered.

Unfettered and determined. She faced them with a dignified expression. If they had expected her to bow her head and plead mercy to the angered world. Then they have not truly understood the woman that she was.

A grim single-minded determination.

A fierceness that wouldn’t be put down even if the world went against her. Their fear of her did not stop their admiration of her. Boldly claiming that she would not be intimidated, despite all the Magi-Clans and the Churches and the leaders of the world seemingly trying to condemn her for her independent actions.

In the first place she had done it under the jurisdiction of her own nation and in her own raised land. You dare to question me on my own land and on my own property? She did not care about isolation. She has a world and she has the ships to take care of her people and even if this world rejects her. She still had more cards to play.

Then it came to them that she can’t be intimidated.

Gia Silva was a woman who can’t be threatened.

Had she not come here without escorts?

Despite standing in front of a woman who can be called a living saint that held the flaming sword of God and the Archs that ruled over the Magi-Clans. The only one who held amusement was the Lioness of the Lionheart, and the Magus named Simone who seems to have expected this behavior from her.

“I did not come here for forgiveness. I did not come here to explain myself or bow my head. I came here to let you know that there is one thing you can do. Either get out of my way or leave us alone. We are not children who can’t take care of their problems. If creatures from hell come clawing then my Hellrunners will kill them all. If they can’t be killed by normal means, then I’ll find a way. I always find a way. That is my way.”

She stops and looks at them one by one.

Silver hair that was resting on her back. A braid that looked like a crown. Eyes that have reddened like rubies shimmering in the dark. One hand on her hip and the other extended. Chin raised up as if she was looking down at them naturally. Despite their seats located higher than. It didn’t feel like she was below them.

“I will take care of the problems set by our own choosing and I will let everyone here decide. Will you stay allies with my people or be hateful friends? Will you let this planet be your grave or will you take the stars with us? It is your choice. You all know me well. You know what I can do and what my people have accomplished.”

It was around 2039 that the first humans landed. It takes millions to send them and yet by the year 2050 the LORES Consortium has created domes and habitats that are manned by her people. Occupying Hellas Basin, and then using the Hesperia Planum as a forge factory.

It was undeniable that they had already started planting their footsteps on mars. And space has a lot of resources to offer. And the long distance tunneling technology that was the so-called masterpiece of the lady before them was a desirable technology that allowed them to traverse vast distances. The secret that was only available to her people.

Then it came to them that this woman had the chance of being the sole ruler of the red planet. The world might have its own people on mars, but can they really stand a stance against the forces of this woman?

Silva was a monster of her own right.

A monster with a hundred years of legacy.

A woman who had enough influence to even more the hardliners who are against her. There’s a reason that she was alive and well. She was far too useful to kill and too powerful to even try to kill. If you can get past her technological might, can you get past her magical might?

A seemingly undefeatable woman.

One would call her perfect if not for the strange reasons on why she wanted to contact demons. They have nothing more to accuse her and even if they did.

Would it matter?

Won’t it not fall deaf on her ears?

The lioness laughs at everyone while the Magus of CASE shakes his head as if accepting that it was over. Taking a good look at the circle that judged her. She turned on her heels and started walking out of the chamber that she was walking with eyes so dull. She spreads her senses to see if they have more tricks up their sleeves and finds only one person waiting for her. Adjusting her robe, she looks at the man who is preparing to speak to her.

Then she freezes up.

She stood across the hall, her eyes locked on the man as he moved through the granite pillars. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and she felt a deep, overwhelming attraction pulling her towards him.

She watched as he approached, her heart racing with anticipation. He was tall with a rugged charm that was impossible to resist. She felt a flutter in her stomach as he stopped in front of her, and she knew that she was in trouble.

He nodded at her, and she felt her knees go weak. Was it fear or surprise that the man she had thought she had burnt weeks ago was now walking fine as if nothing happened? She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and she knew that there was no turning back.

Graying hair and dull eyes. He has a solemn expression that was familiar at the same time it was not. She stops to look at the man. The man, who seems to have little choice when being stared at, walks over.

“It has been a long time.”

Her heart took a large leap.

“It’s been a hundred years.”

She couldn’t stop her heart from beating loudly.

Please say it loudly.

Please, let me be right.

“I am called Robert Oswald, does the lady remember me?”

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