Nemunium Empire, Southern Front, Imperial Command Headquarters

General Cass knew she was going to die. She’s known for about six years now. And that knowledge has always lingered in the back of her mind since. That said, when she’s awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of frantic banging on the door to her room and the muffled yelling of the messenger claiming she’s being summoned by someone from the Capital, she knows that the time has come. There are only two reasons that someone will wake her in the middle of the night. The first is to let her know that a situation, possibly an attack, has occurred. The other is to inform her that an inquisitor has come calling. Therefore, she’s not surprised. In fact – she’s almost disappointed that it’s a messenger who is telling her and not an inquisitor with a ceremonial sword at her throat, “Who is it that is summoning me specifically?” She asked an hour later after quickly getting dressed. Adjusting her light grey long coat, adorned with a small number of medals, as she followed the young man dressed in a simple grey shirt and grey trousers with the standard light armor - chainmail under a simple steel breastplate - common amongst the messengers in the Imperial Army.

“I do not have that information, Ma’am. The order came from a Royal Guard.”

The answer is short and to the point. His tone professional and respectful. Just like all the messengers she’s ever spoken to during her short career thus far. Be it man or woman, they all speak the same. Even when off duty. Maybe it’s because she knows she is about to die that she now wonders why that is. Why they keep everything they say – even small talk – so short. Up until now, she’s never given it a single thought. And with that realization comes another question. Just how many times has this young man delivered a message to her over the six years that she’s spent all the way out here on the southern front?

Does he think she is a mass murderer as well? She doesn’t know. Nor does he give an outward indication of what he thinks of her. And, if she’s being honest, she’s not sure if she wants to know.

It's not until they finally reach the room that serves as her personal study – which is guarded by no less than eleven Royal Guards – that the messenger gives her a curt nod before turning stiffly and bolting down the hallway. In the same manner that all messengers do. But she imagines that a part of the reason he is so quick to leave is the fact that there are so many Royal Guards in one place. The sheer pressure the Royal Guards exude is intense. A sign of their extreme lethality and their high level. Just one of them can level the entire base and leave massive gouges on the earth from the shockwave of their basic attacks alone. Frankly speaking, if it were possible, she’d be right on the messengers' heels if it were possible. With plans to grab the closest airship she can find and set a course that will put as much distance between her and the Royal Guards.

Much like the standard rank and file soldiers of the empire, they wear grey fatigues under a dark grey metal breast plate. Along with a dark grey trench coat. The handles of their swords peeking out from within the confines of their coats. Their faces are obscured by their helmets. Which, curiously, have no obvious indications that they can see. The face plates are completely smooth. With no slits or lenses. The emblem of the imperial family is embossed on their breast plate. The emblem is that of a phoenix with its wings outstretched and a sword clutched within its talons.

In true imperial fashion, everything is built for utility rather than visual appeal. Even the imperial emblem is plain. If nothing else, it can never be said that the Nemunium Empire wastes time with anything unnecessary.

To her knowledge, there are at least twenty in the Royal Guard Corps that are at level 140. It’s with that in mind that General Cass turns to look at the lead Royal Guard. And begins to suspect that it’s not an inquisitor that has come to pass judgement. But something far, far, worse, “General Cass, here to answer the summons of….” She trails off at the end as it dawns on her that the lead Royal Guard is not human. They’re a Clockwork Doll. A highly advanced automaton created in the exact likeness of a human being. Rather than her hulking brothers that tower over men and buildings. Raining holy fire upon anything that does not call itself human. What marks the woman before her as a Clockwork Doll is that there is a very obvious key sticking out from her back. Silently rotating clockwise. To her knowledge, the key serves no real purpose other than to indicate what they are. So advanced is the technology of the Empire that Clockwork Dolls are nearly identical to humans. At least, the humanoid models meant for day-to-day service.

If the machine heard her, it gave no answer. Simply inclining its head a mere fraction of an inch before stepping to the side with a silence that unnerved her. A hand resting on the pommel of the longsword sheathed at its side. Imperial Clockwork Automatons – Doll and War Machine alike – always make some kind of noise when they move. But the fact that this one made no sound? Her blood began to run cold while her mind began to join the dots. Piecing together a conclusion that she's not quite sure she wants to come to. Yet she forced the thoughts from her head as she began to move a bit more stiffly towards the door. Keenly aware of eleven pairs of eyes on her as she grasped the handle then opened the door.

“I have come in response to your summons. And I am ready to receive judgement.” When General Cass finished speaking, she immediately regretted it. Wishing she had taken time to survey the room and its occupants before doing so. “Your Highness, please forgive me.” A heavy thud resounded through the air as she dropped to one knee when she realized who currently sat at her desk, “Had I known that it was you who had summoned me, I would have come much sooner.” When she walked into her office, she had done so on auto-pilot. Feeling almost disconnected from her surroundings as she wondered… well, she doesn’t know.

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The woman sitting in the rather plush chair was none other than the adopted daughter of His Majesty, the Emperor of the Empire – Princess Vera. Her mere presence is suffocating. The sheer power at her command - not including the power of being a member of the imperial family - presses down on her. If she were ordered to stand, she would find it difficult to do so. Standing behind her were two maids – one a human and the other a clockwork doll. To the left of the General stood a woman dressed in what was clearly the uniform of an Imperial Knight. Her shoulder cape bearing the crest of a low-ranking noble house. Yet she carried a claymore on her back rather than the ceremonial long sword that Imperial Knights carried.

“Go on and raise your head, General.” The knight is the one who spoke. General Cass detected a rather distinct accent to her voice. Yet couldn’t place her finger on where she might be from. Regardless, the one thing she did know is that this woman is most certainly not a low-ranking knight. If she had to guess, this woman had to be the Princess’ personal guard. It’s the only explanation. Only her personal attendants – her maids – would be allowed to speak for the princess. Those of the royal family did not speak to those of lower station such as the General and Knight. At least, they did not do so lightly. If the General had to guess, the woman with the claymore had to be wearing the uniform - black pants and a black jacket with its gold buttons lined on the left side - as a disguise, “I am Knight-Captain Heidi. I will be speaking on her Highness’ behalf for this trial.”

Translated – I am the woman who will be killing you once her highness has decided that you’ve been given sufficient time to have your say.

General Cass bit back the urge to voice that translation. Give it life beyond her thoughts. But she knew better. Knew that something had happened or the Inquisition simply decided that her crime was well beyond the bar set for their jurisdiction. Why else would his majesty have his own daughter come all the way out here to the furthest reaches of the empire?

“Now then, General, state your crime as you believe it to be.” The way this Knight spoke…. General Cass just knew. She just knew. They had to be an Inquisitor masquerading as a Knight. Why else would they speak like that? So…. Clinically detached. Like none of this mattered. At all. That her fate had already long been decided. Most likely since before leaving the Capital. And now it was just a matter of observing formalities for the sake of her highness. The General gave no thought as to the possibility that the Princess had an inquisitor as a personal guard. She didn't have the time; She needed to do as commanded.

General Cass did her best to keep her breath steady while she took a deep breath. Then let it out quietly. She lowered her head, “I am accused of releasing specialized chemicals onto the battlefield to eliminate enemy combatants. The chemicals in question were originally intended for the safe disposal of dragon corpses.” The General kept her head lowered. She had no choice. At least, that's what she tells herself ever since that day. So, she kept her gaze locked onto the stone floor beneath her knee.

“How many dead?”

The General took another deep breath, “The estimated death toll, since the release of the chemicals six years ago, is roughly 127 – 212 million. This is not counting the number of dead at the hands of the corpses that were inevitably raised as undead due to my failure to ensure that all the dead were accounted for, and their corpses disposed of.” It goes without saying that the number of dead all told is far, far, higher. An inevitable result. If a corpse is left unattended or not properly disposed of, they will rise again. Thanks to the negative mana in the area. Therefore, with the sheer magnitude of death that followed her actions six years ago, the death toll is rising ever higher still.

“What say you in your defense?”

“I have no defense – the truth is plain to all: I was unprepared for the joint ambush by the Dwarven, Beastfolk, and Elven countries. They caught me and my legion unawares. And I demonstrated my inability to fulfill the expectations of my office by ordering the use of chemicals reserved for non-combat related purposes. Thus, breaking the international wartime accord and disobeying an edict of the first Emperor.” No one could have predicted that the three races who have been at each others throats since the dawn of creation would have laid aside their differences. All in the name of having a shared enemy in the Nemunium Empire. Much less that they'd be able to coordinate a massive ambush all along the entire southern frontline. Again, she tells herself that she had no choice. Her men were tired. Supplies were stretched thin. The Clockwork Titans sent to her too damaged to risk sending in. And ammunition so scarce that, as she understood it, more than a few were left with swords and harsh language. It was one bad choice or another. All she could do was pick one and continue to serve with honor and pray to any gods that are still alive that the one sent to pass judgement would see the situation for what it was. And at least spare her men.

“What edict did you disobey?” There's a decided edge in the Knights tone. Which is understandable. To disobey an edict of the first Emperor is an immediate death sentence. No one, not even the current Emperor, is exempt from this punishment.

“To not carry out any action that would destroy the Empire’s lands and render them useless to the Empire. By releasing those chemicals, I have permanently ensured that the land shall remain perpetually uninhabitable to any and all life. Not even the dwarves would be able to find a use for this land.” The chemical in question were specially designed to break down dragon corpses. Thus removing the danger of it being resurrected as an undead. Resulting in a potential calamity that could threaten all known races. Of course, it went without saying that these chemicals were meant to be used in small quantities. Just enough to break down a singular corpse. But she dumped the entirety of the reserves. Letting it spread across the battlefield like a tidal wave of death. The intended effect was certainly achieved. That could not be disputed. But the long-term effects? Well... she already explained it. The chemicals permanently killed the land. Nothing could live there anymore. No one alive, that is. It went without saying that General Cass ensured that there was no longer a reason to fight over the land of the southern front. Save for invading the Nemunium Empire.

“Are you guilty of this crime?”

With a tremendous effort of will, General Cass forced herself to slowly look up. Meeting the cold gaze of her Princess. Although she looked as though to be an ethereal doll made of the finest chalk white porcelain, General Cass felt as though she gazed upon an angel of death. A reaper that has come to collect her due. The General gave her best attempt at affecting a confident aura. Yet knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had utterly failed. There's an inexplicable pressure that fills the room from her presence. Despite her best efforts to speak in a clear voice, she whispered the words that have played on repeat in her most private thoughts –

“I am guilty.”