The long and awaited day comes to Dawn’s dismay. Her mind has been going back and forth between the nurse with reddish-violet hair to the Legion, who was about to frame her for the death of her own mother. She paced back and forth in her room trying to calm her breathing. Her door slowly opens, revealing her brother.

“Dawn, you need to calm down a little,” Makoto says, handing her an asthma pump. She stops pacing and grabs it, muttering thanks as she takes a puff. She begins to try and calm down before turning to Makoto.

“Can I tell you something?” Dawn said, slightly scared.

“Anything. We’re family. We stick by each other no matter what,” he smiles.

“Well, when I was in the hospital-” suddenly Hakai burst into the door as if he was waiting for Dawn to start talking.

“Are you two ready to go now?” he says in a commanding tone.

“Yes.” Makoto says, ready to bring the perpetrators to justice. Dawn nods less eagerly looking sheepish. Hakai glares at her sending chills down her spine as he turns away and walks out the door.

The courthouse was a monster of stone and judgment, its pillars reaching skyward like accusatory fingers. Dawn Hamasaki walked between her father Hakai and brother Makoto, each step feeling like she was marching towards her own funeral. The building seemed to breathe with a malevolent anticipation, its marble floors reflecting the nervous tremor in her steps.

Her mind drifted back to the hospital. To her mother’s final words. ”They’re going to blame you for my death, when that happens you need to run.” Mizu’s voice echoed in her memory, a haunting prophecy that now seemed terrifyingly real.

The courthouse interior was a study in intimidation. Massive portraits of previous Legion judges lined the walls – faces carved from stone, eyes that seemed to follow her with cold, unforgiving scrutiny. Dawn’s breath began to shallow, her lungs tightening with the familiar warning signs of an impending asthma attack. Her fingers instinctively reached for the inhaler in her pocket, finding comfort in its familiar shape.

Makoto stood beside her, his posture rigid. He had been different since their mother’s death – more controlled, more intense. His purple eyes scanned the room constantly, a predator ready to defend his territory. Dawn wondered if he still blamed her, even after his tearful apology in the hospital.

Hakai said nothing. He never said much. His silence was a weapon more potent than any words, a pressure that crushed whatever resistance might bloom in its path.

The courtroom fell Into an unnatural silence. No shuffling of papers. No whispered conversations. Just absolute, complete stillness.

Then the voice came. Not from a person. Not from anywhere specific. It was everywhere and nowhere, a sound that seemed to originate from the very walls, the floor, the air itself.

“WE SEE ALL.”

The Legion’s proclamation wasn’t a human voice. It was something else. Something that vibrated through bone and spirit, a sound that promised absolute knowledge.

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“WITH OUR ALL-SEEING EYE, WE HAVE WITNESSED THE TRUTH OF MIZU HAMASAKI’S MURDER.”

Dawn’s mind began to drift again. She thought about the cupcakes she had made. The lemon frosting her mother loved. The way Mizu’s eyes had lit up when Dawn presented them. The last moment of pure, uncomplicated joy before everything shattered.

*Something feels wrong.*

The thought came unbidden. A whisper from some deep, primal part of her consciousness. Something was coming. Something terrible.

“THE KILLER IS-“

The voice paused. A breath of anticipation filled the room.

“DAWN HAMASAKI.”

Makoto’s reaction was instantaneous and volcanic. “YOU!” he screamed, his voice cracking with a mixture of betrayal and rage. “YOU KILLED MOM!”

Dawn stared in shock. This was different from his earlier apology in the hospital. Something had changed.

“Makoto, I didn’t-“ she started.

“LIAR!” he roared, lunging towards her. Guards instinctively moved to restrain him, but his fury broke through. “You poisoned her! You killed the only person who ever truly loved us!”

Tears streamed down Makoto’s face, but they weren’t tears of grief. They were tears of pure, uncontrolled anger. “I trusted you! I defended you in the hospital, and this whole time YOU WERE THE MURDERER!”

Hakai stood silent, his purple eyes cold and calculating. Dawn realized he wasn’t trying to stop Makoto. He was watching. Evaluating.

“You made those cupcakes,” Makoto continued, his voice a venomous whisper that somehow carried through the entire courtroom. “You prepared the tea. You were the only one who could have done this. Mom trusted you, and you KILLED HER!”

His words were a physical assault. Each accusation felt like a knife, cutting deeper than any physical wound could.

“I didn’t!” Dawn shouted back, her voice breaking. “I would never hurt Mom!”

“LIAR!” Makoto screamed again. “The Legion sees all! They know the truth! YOU MURDERED OUR MOTHER!”

The guards were closing in. Dawn could see them, hear their heavy footsteps. Something inside her began to crack.

Water erupted from her hands. Not a controlled stream. Not a carefully crafted magical technique. Pure, raw emotion transformed into elemental power. The water burst forth like a living thing, a liquid shield that sent the first wave of guards sliding backwards.

“STOP HER!”

Voices blended into a cacophony of chaos. Dawn’s lungs burned. Her asthma screamed its protest with each desperate breath. But survival demanded movement.

She ran.

Her magic continued to flow erratically. Puddles formed and expanded. Guards slipped and crashed into each other. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a battle between terror and physical limitation.

A hand grabbed her. Strong. Precise.

Dr. Nanami Mazoku – a woman who defied simple description. Her skin was the color of rich bronze, a beautiful testament to her mixed African and Japanese heritage. Reddish-violet hair framed a face marked by intelligence and determination. Pitch-black eyes assessed the situation with predatory calculation.

“I’ve got you,” Nanami whispered.

They moved like liquid shadow. Through maintenance corridors. Down spiral staircases. Into the city’s underground sewer system. The sounds of pursuit faded, replaced by the drip of water and the echo of their footsteps.

Dawn’s magic was spent. Her body was a trembling mess of exhaustion and fear. Nanami moved with a grace that suggested this wasn’t her first escape, her movements deliberate and practiced.

A hidden door. A silent slide. And then – sanctuary.

Dawn collapsed, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion.

Five figures greeted her arrival with remarkable nonchalance.

One stretched across a worn leather couch, casually consuming dried fruit. Another sat cross-legged on the floor, a knife twirling between skilled fingers like an extension of their hand. A third read a book, completely unbothered by the dramatic entrance. The fourth was absorbed in some electronic device, fingers moving with rapid precision. The fifth simply stared. Unblinking. Unmoving.

Nanami’s voice cut through the silence. “She’s here.”

Five pairs of eyes turned towards Dawn. Predators sizing up their newest companion. Or their next meal.

The room hummed with unspoken intentions.