The chamber was dim, circular, and far older than the city surrounding it. Pale light streamed down from a single skylight, cutting through layers of incense smoke. Judith Harrington stood alone at the center, her boots echoing softly against polished black stone.

Around her, behind carved wooden screens and hanging silver veils, sat the Court—dozens of women draped in crimson and gold. Their faces were hidden by masks shaped like animals, birds, or abstract symbols. Their voices came as whispers, murmurs, and occasional sharp laughs.

Judith kept her hands folded in front of her. The only thing that moved was the silver chain at her waist, clinking whenever she shifted her weight.

"Unbelievable…" one veiled woman whispered.

"How could the Eye of the Goddess let such a thing happen?" another hissed.

"A terrorist attack under her very nose," a third muttered.

A ripple of disapproval moved around the circle like a wave. Judith did not raise her eyes.

The first voice rose again, louder, mock-sweet. "What happened, Judith Harrington? The famous Eyes of the Goddess gone blind?"

A laugh answered her from the opposite side of the chamber. "As expected, perhaps. One cannot expect much from a bloodline already dying."

"Dying for a reason," another voice chimed, sharp as a knife. "Perhaps the goddess herself has withdrawn her blessing."

Several women snickered behind their veils.

But another voice, older, steadier, cut through the noise. "Enough. Show respect. The Eye of the Goddess has been sacred since the dawn of time. Even we are bound by that."

"She failed," the mocking voice snapped.

"And yet she stands here," the older woman answered, "She answered our call and came here to repent for her mistake.."

A low murmur rolled through the chamber. Judith finally lifted her head, her eyes gleaming a strange silver beneath the hooded light.

"I hear all of you," she said quietly. Her voice carried, calm and even. "But tell me—how could I have known it was a terrorist attack when those terrorists were people without powers? Without any abilities at all?"

A pause. The Court fell silent for a heartbeat.

Judith took a step forward. "We ability-holders tell ourselves the greatest threat comes from each other. We prepare for rival powers, for rival bloodlines, for rival talents." Her gaze moved slowly around the chamber. "But this terriost attacked proved the fact. The real threat lies in those who have nothing. People who have nothing are willing to do anything."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and cold.

From behind one of the veils, a soft, cutting voice murmured, "I heard the Harrington family had a non-ability holder. To be specific—Judith's own twin sister."

A hush fell over the chamber.

The same voice continued, sly. "People used to say she was good for nothing, while Judith absorbed every drop of value from the family name. Remind me—what happened to that girl?"

Judith's face did not change, though her fingers twitched slightly at her side. When she spoke, her tone was flat, stripped of all warmth. "She killed herself."

The echo of her words settled like dust. For a moment, no one spoke. Even the incense smoke seemed to pause.

Finally the eldest masked woman straightened on her throne. "We cannot allow another incident like this. These… devices—skill-nullifying jammers—must be captured before the government or any other family gets their hands on them."

"Agreed," another voice said quickly. "Such technology threatens the balance we have guarded for centuries."

The elder continued, "Your responsibility, Judith, of finding and nurturing great powers is now secondary. Your primary goal is discovering the secret of these traitors. Is that clear?"

Judith bowed her head slightly. "As you wish."

"Good." The woman's voice grew colder. "Remember, you are not the only hook we have set in the water. Let the bait bite."

Another voice chuckled. "We do hope you are still the best, Eye of the Goddess."

Judith inclined her head again but said nothing more. She turned on her heel and began walking toward the massive double doors at the end of the chamber.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, the murmurs behind her resumed—quieter now, like snakes rustling through dry grass. She did not look back.

The hall outside was long and lined with statues of women from ages past—remarkable women of history, each carved in flawless marble. Judith walked between them without a sound. Her boots clicked on the polished floor, echoing faintly.

Halfway down the hall she stopped, pressing a hand to her temple. A flash of memory burned across her vision: her assistant's startled cry, the spray of red as the bullet struck, the look in his eyes just before he fell.

Not again, she thought.

She lowered her hand, breathing slowly until her face smoothed once more. Then she pushed open the last door and stepped out into the gray daylight.

A sleek black car waited at the foot of the steps, its windows tinted. The driver opened the rear door for her without a word. Judith slid into the seat, the leather cool against her palms.

As the car pulled away, the city's spires and towers gliding past the windows, she stared out at nothing. The Court's voices still clung to her ears.

"You're not the only hook we set up…"

"We hope you are still the best…"

Judith grinned at those words. "They sure are arrogant for a bunch of old crones who think they've got the world in their hands."

"Are they that old? That's news to me! I thought those voices were pretty young for what they were." Judith suddenly heard a voice in front of her and was surprised to see the person sitting there.

Opposite her sat a young woman with messy brown hair and a loose jacket, leaning back as if she were in a café instead of a vehicle belonging to the Eye of the Goddess. Her posture was relaxed, her gaze wandering out the window, not a hint of fear or tension on her face.

Judith opened her eyes and studied her. "You look rather careless for someone sitting in front of a woman who can tell exactly what kind of skill you have."

The young woman shrugged and smiled lazily. "Maybe I'm just used to you or it doesn't even matter because you already know what we are."

A faint curve touched Judith's lips. "How are things going? Did you find the information I asked for?"

Without a word the girl reached into her jacket, pulled out a slim mobile phone, and handed it over. "Everything's in here. Recordings, details, the guilds' recent activities, even their bank movements. You'll like it."

Judith accepted the phone silently and began scrolling. For several minutes only the sound of the tires on wet asphalt filled the car. Lines of text flickered across the screen, maps, transactions, lists of names.

Then, slowly, a smile broke across her face. "Not even the Court was able to find this. It seems my gamble with you hasn't been a loss after all."

The girl smirked, tilting her head. "Well, I don't mind that you raised me as a weapon. But…" Her voice grew quieter. "I hope you make full use of me. My life is meaningless if I'm not useful to you."

Judith looked up from the phone, her eyes softening for the first time that day. She reached across the seat and gently patted the girl's head. "You're not a weapon, my daughter. Yes, I use you. I'll use anyone if my plans require it. But that doesn't mean you're worthless to me. You're the most valuable possession I have—along with your sisters."

The girl blinked, her lips parting slightly at the word daughter. Then she lowered her eyes, hiding a small smile. "I… see."

Judith slipped the phone into her coat and opened a small black bag at her side. Inside, nestled in foam, lay a single syringe filled with a crimson liquid. She took it out carefully, tapping it once.

"Give me your hand."

The girl obediently extended her arm without hesitation. "Already time again?"

"Already." Judith pressed the needle against her skin and injected the fluid in one smooth motion. The girl winced but didn't pull away.

"There," Judith said, disposing of the syringe back into the bag. "You're good for another few months."

The girl flexed her fingers, feeling the warmth of the serum spread. "It always burns for a second."

"You'll get used to it," Judith replied. "Keep doing good work. I'm expecting great things from you."

The girl straightened a little. "I'll make you proud."

"I know." Judith's voice was firm but almost gentle.

Outside the window the cityscape shifted from tall towers to quieter residential streets. The car slowed as it neared Judith's apartment complex.

Before opening the door, Judith leaned forward slightly. "Tell your sisters to put their full attention on the terrorists. I want anything about these jammers, even useless scraps. Understand?"

The girl gave a carefree nod. "Got it. We'll dig up everything."

The car rolled to a stop. The driver stepped out and opened Judith's door. She paused on the threshold and looked back at the girl one more time.

"Don't forget," Judith said softly, "you're not meaningless to me."

The girl met her eyes for a brief second, then looked away, still smiling lazily. "Just bring me something to do. That's all I need."