I Evolve 10,000 Times Faster

The Tribunal Hall had been built for moments like this.

High ceilings, stone pillars, raised seating on three sides, all of it packed with academy elites, military officers, and reporters whose recording crystals drifted in tight formation above the central floor.

The room was designed to hold two hundred people. Four hundred had shown up. Every seat was filled and the aisles were crammed with standing spectators who had pushed past the capacity limits because they refused to miss what was coming.

At the far end, the judge’s seat sat elevated on a platform ten feet above the floor. It was a massive chair made from a block of black granite, built to make whoever sat in it look like a god passing judgment on mortals.

Instructor Vespera sat in it.

She looked terrible. Beautiful, but terrible. Dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. Her uniform was still crisp and perfectly fitted, but there was no hiding how exhausted she was. Between the academy, the emergency filings, and what seemed like half the Capital’s paperwork since the Emperor fell, sleep clearly hadn’t been part of her schedule.

The hall was noisy. Reporters whispered among themselves, students murmured in clusters, and military officers exchanged quiet glances. The energy was electric, the kind of tension that filled a room when everyone knew something important was about to happen, but no one knew exactly what.

The main doors opened.

Aldric Sterling walked in with his chin held high, carrying himself like a man who had spent his entire life believing his money and name made him untouchable. His charcoal suit was perfectly tailored and had cost more than most families earned in five years.

Behind him came four lawyers, all in expensive suits and carrying equally expensive briefcases. They stayed close to Aldric as they approached the defendant’s platform, speaking to him in low voices as they went.

"This is a farce," one of them muttered, loud enough for the nearest reporters to hear. "My client is being targeted by a student with a personal vendetta. We intend to demonstrate that the plaintiff, Holden Voss, has direct ties to the Crimson Syndicate’s criminal enterprise."

A recording crystal drifted closer. The lawyer smiled for it.

Aldric took his position at the defendant’s platform and looked across the hall at the plaintiff’s side, where Team Soup stood together. His eyes found Lyra first, then Holden, followed by Emric and Renna.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

There was nothing kind about it.

"Fools," he said, just loud enough for the first row to hear. "All of them."

Team Soup stood their ground. Holden wore his Phantom-Weave Armor under a dark academy coat. Emric had his freshly repaired shield strapped to his back. Renna had her bow. Lyra stood at the front.

She wore her academy uniform, simple and clean. She had removed the Sterling name from everything she owned. The only weapons she carried were a folder of legal documents and an earpiece feeding her information from Maeve, who sat in the back row with three tablets balanced on her knees.

Vespera raised her hand. The room went silent.

"This emergency session of the Tribunal is now in session." Her voice carried without effort, no microphone. "Case number 001. Holden Voss, personal disciple of the presiding officer, versus Aldric Sterling, head of House Sterling. The plaintiff will present their case."

Aldric’s lead lawyer was on his feet before the echo faded. "Your Honor, before the plaintiff begins, we object to the composition of this tribunal. The presiding officer is the plaintiff’s own master. This is a conflict of interest."

"Overruled." Vespera didn’t even look at him. "The Emergency Military Justice Act names the highest-ranking Rank 4 officer present as the presiding judge in an emergency session. There is no one else. Sit down."

"Your Honor, if I may..."

"You may not. The plaintiff has the floor."

The lawyer reluctantly sat back down. Across the hall, Aldric’s smile thinned.

Lyra stepped forward.

The room seemed to shift as every eye and crystal lens turned toward her. She stood at the edge of the platform with the folder in hand, looking straight across the hall at her uncle.

Aldric leaned forward. "Lyra." His voice carried in the silence. "Still playing dress-up, I see. A broken girl in a borrowed uniform, standing in a room she doesn’t belong in, making accusations she can’t prove."

He turned to the reporters. "My niece has been unstable since she abandoned her family. These accusations are the fantasies of a confused child who couldn’t handle the responsibilities of noble birth."

Lyra didn’t flinch. She didn’t react at all, except to open her folder and place the first document on the display podium.

The massive screen behind her lit up, revealing a bank transfer record with the account number, date, amount, and authorization signature clearly displayed.

"House Sterling operational account," she said. Her voice was calm and clear. "Transaction dated three days ago. Five million credits, transferred from the Sterling family treasury to a shell company registered as Meridian Holdings. Meridian Holdings is a front for the Crimson Syndicate. The authorization signature belongs to Aldric Sterling."

The screen showed the signature, large and clear and unmistakable.

Aldric’s smile didn’t waver. "Forged. Any competent forger can replicate a signature."

Lyra placed the second document. The screen updated.

"The transfer was authorized through the Sterling family’s secure banking terminal. Serial number 7742-S. It sits in the private study of the Sterling manor, and it requires biometric authentication. Palmprint and retinal scan."

She looked at her uncle, and for the first time something human moved behind the calm.

"I grew up in that house, Uncle. I know that terminal."

The room went very quiet. The reporters had stopped whispering, the students had stopped murmuring, and even the lawyers behind Aldric had gone still.

His jaw tightened. "Biometric data can be stolen. Cloned. This proves nothing."

Lyra placed the third document.

"This is the transaction trail for the five million after it left the Sterling account. The funds passed through four shell companies, all tied to the Syndicate’s financial network, before ending up in the Crimson Syndicate Boss’s operational account."

She paused. Maeve’s voice murmured in her ear, feeding her the next line.

"I also have the Syndicate’s own records. Their transfer logs and internal communications, obtained during the operation that dismantled the Crimson Syndicate. The details of that operation are sealed by this tribunal."

She looked at Aldric again.

"In those communications, the Boss confirms receipt of your payment and names the target of the contract. Holden Voss." She let the name hang for a moment. "The contract specifies, and I quote, no survivors on the train."

The screen displayed the log.

"Five million credits," Lyra said. "Paid by you. To kill students. On a train full of soldiers."

The gasp that followed came from the whole room.

Aldric’s face had changed. The smug confidence was cracking. His eyes darted to his lawyers, and the lead lawyer was already shaking his head, a small motion that said one thing: this case is dead.

"And there’s more." Lyra placed the fourth document.

"Early this morning, at approximately one-fifteen, Aldric Sterling initiated a second series of transactions from that same terminal. He liquidated every liquid asset the family had left, another five million credits, and routed them through a shell company chain to an unregistered holding account linked to a known mercenary broker."

The screen showed the transfer chain.

"The broker specializes in recruiting ex-Royal Guards, the soldiers who fled the capital after the Emperor fell. The transfer amount corresponds to a bulk contract for twenty-five Rank 2 operators." She let that sit for a breath. "And the intended target of that contract is this academy."

She nodded toward the back of the hall.

Maeve’s fingers moved, and Aldric’s own voice filled the room, raw and unedited, patched through the podium’s feed from a recording of the call he had placed to the broker barely twelve hours earlier.

"I need twenty-five operators, Rank 2 minimum. Armed assault. The target is the Vanguard Academy."

A second voice, low and rough. "Five million for a military academy assault. That’s light."

The playback cut.

Aldric surged to his feet, his chair scraping against the platform.

"Lies! All of it! Every damn word! She’s nothing but a disgraced child throwing accusations around..."

"The currency says otherwise." Lyra’s voice cut through his. "Every enchanted credit carries an origin tag stamped at the moment of creation. The bounty payment itself entered tribunal custody this morning, all five million credits of it, and every single coin traces back to the Sterling family mint. It can’t be forged. It can’t be deleted."

She placed the final document on the podium.

"And with it, the Syndicate’s internal contract file. The original contract, signed by Aldric Sterling, authorizing the assassination of Holden Voss and the destruction of the military train."

The screen displayed everything.

His lawyers were backing away slowly, one step at a time. The lead lawyer closed his briefcase with a soft click.

"Your Honor." His voice had gone thin. "I must request a recess to review these allegations."

"Request denied." Vespera said.

"Are you withdrawing counsel?"

"I... that is, my firm..."

"Are you withdrawing counsel?"

The lawyer looked at Aldric. Aldric stared back at him, waiting for him to fix this.

But there was nothing left to fix.

The lawyer glanced at the screen, then at the evidence spread across it, before looking out at the four hundred people watching. He could already feel the case collapsing around him. Every new piece of evidence dragged his firm deeper into it.

He slowly closed his briefcase.

"Withdrawing," he said. "Effective immediately."

He picked up his briefcase and walked out, and the other three followed without a word.

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