Camille walked briskly. Not only was she upset, but she was also disappointed. She rushed to her brother in hopes of finding an explanation. How and why was a prisoner suffering so badly under his watch? She had to know the truth.

The Sokidu banged on the door with one hand, clutching the Zaatsu’s robe tightly with the other. From inside, Hugo asked, “Who is it?” as he walked to the door.

“Open up,” Camille said, loudly, and then, under her breath, added, “Damn it!”

He opened the door and said, “Hey, Cami! You’re just in time for dinner.”

“That’s low!” she said and threw the robe in his face.

Looking at it, he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Your prisoner is being beaten to a bloody pulp down there!”

Wide eyed, Hugo stared at his sister for a few moments then, grabbing her by the arm, dragged her inside closing the door behind them. He sat her down on a chair. “You went into the Atramentum?” he asked.

“Yes!” she quickly replied. “Punish me all you want! If I have to, I will do it again!”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Hugo, that man has not eaten anything all day! He is continuously being beaten by the guards! Hell! He hasn’t even had a single drop of water!”

“I know…”

Camille leaned back and stared wide eyed, stumped by what she had just heard. “What are you saying?” she asked in a hushed, almost whispering voice, disgusted by her brother's response.

Hugo grabbed a chair and sat right in front of her. “Hear me out,” he said, with an arm extended. “I know you must be upset but there are some things that you should understand now.”

The Sokidu remained quiet, so he continued, “I don’t say anything in front of the team because I am not exactly sure who I can trust anymore. Trust is a commodity in short supply these days. But… I know I can trust you.” He paused, took a deep breath, then said, “There’s something going on here. Can’t lay an actual finger on it, but there is something definitely going on here.”

“Where?”

“Imagine a machine built to fix other machines but then the fixer machine begins to leak oil and yet, nobody wants to fix it. Everybody is worried about the other machines not getting fixed properly.”

“Are you talking about the Eye?”

“Hmm… how many prisoners did you see?”

“I didn’t go to the deeper levels but in the temporary holding area, there was no one but Vincent.”

“There is no one there... Deep, shallow, temporary or permanent, no one’s there, Cami.”

“But why?”

“Let’s just say that no one likes prisoners… too much work.”

“So, they just keep torturing them.”

“No. We kill everyone now.” Camille gaze widened as she gasped. With a nod, Hugo added, “You have no idea how many people I had to coerce to make sure that he was brought back living and breathing. Gina told me about your argument with Neil…”

“Oh…”

“Your brother is as much an enthusiastic man as he is naïve. He is being moulded as a weapon, and he doesn’t even realize it. Now, I have been trying to keep him out of their hands, but I can only do so much without giving away my intentions.”

“You are making absolutely no sense right now. What’s Neil got to do with all this?”

“Just know that I am doing as much as I can to take care of Vincent. I know. I know he is being mistreated, and I know he is hurting down there, but I can’t interfere directly. At least not just yet…”

“What do you mean?” Camille leaned ahead and further asked, “What’s going on, Hugo?”

“I am going to take him off death row.”

“What?!”

“Yes. Something big is going down and I need him. I need his skills and his knowledge, and I need him for the upcoming missions.” The Zaatsu leaned closer too and said, “I just don’t know who to trust anymore…”

“You’ve been acting strange for a while now,” she said, paused for a moment, then asked, “Tell me what’s really going on?”

“Ah! I won’t bore you with the details, Cami. But just know that whatever I say in front of you stays with you and you alone. Even Neil gets nothing of it. Understood?”

“But…”

“Shush!” he placed a finger on her mouth. “No more questions. I’ll tell you more when I can. Now please… hurry and freshen up! I’m starving!”

“I’m not hungry,” Camille said, folded her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

Hugo sighed as his head dropped. He asked, “Do you want me to send him dinner or something?”

“Maybe…” she rested her head on her knees. “I don’t know…”

He looked up and asked, “Explain something to me…”

“What?”

“Why did you go down there?”

“He didn’t kill me, Hugo!” She raised her head and looked at her brother dead in the eye and continued, “When we met in the forest, he had the opportunity and an open chance to cut my head off, but he just put me under a spell to make me lose control over my Ki and then just moved away. He didn’t even try to hurt me. If he is a stone-cold killer like everyone says, then why did he do that?”

“One explanation would be that he wanted a friendly inside the captors house,” Hugo once again placed a finger on Camille’s mouth before she could say anything. “But…” he continued with a smile, “Another explanation is that you were just not as much of a threat to him. The way he fights, it looks like he’s been well trained. And a man who is properly trained in the Martial Arts is taught constraint before aggressiveness, and humility and forgiveness before arrogance and violence.”

As he removed his finger she said, “But they said he’s a coldblooded killer...”

“They sure did.” Hugo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them, he looked away and said, “But they also said that the Cultists of Africa were responsible for killing 50 operatives of the Eye before finding Ambris did that, who was a Zaatsu for the Eye back then. And they also said the middle easterners were orchestrating the attacks on our outposts before finding the rogues of eastern Europe behind it. Lord knows what they’ll say next…” He looked at Camille with a tilted head and, with raised eyebrows, said, “‘The Mexican taco makers are stealing the remnants to add flavour to their meals!’”

Camille chuckled and looked away.

“Alright, listen,” Hugo said giving a little nudge on her wrist. “I’ll get him something to eat. Happy?”

His sister nodded. He smiled and gave her another nudge, on the head this time. Thereafter, the two had dinner, and as promised, straight after, Hugo went down to the prison wearing a unique Cultist cloaking spell. The guards never saw him come or leave and he easily placed some food and water in Vincent’s cell. Along with the meal was a tablet under a note which read, ‘eat me to regain some Ki and then eat the food fast before they are able to see it.’

The knocked-out Vincent was woken up by what felt to him like a chilly breeze. He got up and saw the note right in front of him. He ate the tablet and regained some Ki, just enough to move a bit better. He was able to push himself up and sit.

Smiling, the White Bolt whispered, “I had no clue,” and then proceeded to have dinner.

The morning brought a large crowd to the Regal Palace to witness the trial of the bounty hunter, White Bolt. They thronged the Visionaries’ Court of Justice. It was vast, built to accommodate hundreds. And it was filled to capacity.

The architecture of the court bore the weight of tradition with arched ceilings, stone pillars, and tiered seating that rose in layers around a central floor. The front of the hall was divided into three distinct sections of authority and relevance.

To the right, in a raised and enclosed box, sat the Seear along with his personal council, senior Zaatsu, and members of the Parliament. They watched and observed but their power to interfere in proceedings was constitutionally limited.

Opposite them, a similar box was reserved for key figures tied directly to the case. At present, the seats were occupied by the Zeta Squad, who had brought the accused, the infamous White Bolt, into custody. This space shifted occupants from trial to trial, depending on who had standing or involvement.

Between these two enclosures and slightly elevated sat the Justice Council. Composed of randomly selected citizens over the age of 45, from within the city of Ayn, this council served as the deciding authority on all cases – civil or criminal. Each member held a three-year term, and while the Seear’s council maintained the right of oversight, their ability to overturn decisions was minimal. The Council was the true heart of the courtroom’s judgment.

The front rows of the general gallery were reserved for active Martial Artists of the Eye. Behind them, civilians and lower-ranked combatants filled the rest of the gallery, their murmurs fading as the proceedings began.

Upon the Seear, Renekom Mujin’s instructions, a chair was placed in the middle of the Hall, in front of the council and right in between the Zeta Squad and Seear. The senior most Mystic at the time, one of the closest councils to the Seear, Mystic Master Hedish Norma, then called, “Bring out the prisoner!”

Amidst whispers and gasps, two guards dragged Vincent out, blind-folded with hands and feet tied up, and sat him on the chair. A man from the Seear’s council, with a huge scroll in his hand, then got up and began addressing the court.

“Good Morning!” he exclaimed. “By the Seear’s leave, I shall now ask the champions of Zeta Squad to please rise!”

The Zeta Squad stood up and were greeted by a huge cheer from the crowd. “The names of the members are thus,” he said then opened the scroll and read, “Unit Zeta 9, otherwise known by the codename Zeta Squad, assisted by 11 Dominus for the mission, is: captain Zaatsu Master Hugo Baylis, Zaatsu Master Neil Baylis, Sokidu Masters Gina Hart, Marcus Bernthal, Ella Clay, and Camille Baylis.”

With each name the clapping and the cheers grew louder. They were after all captors of the White Bolt himself. The buzz around the Palace and Ayn was loud and the thirst for justice was all but unquenched. The bounty hunter had killed Zaatsus, he had stolen scriptures of Dark Arts, he was the first man in years to be so universally excepted as the face of evil, and the public demanded that he be brought to justice. And that day had finally arrived. All because of the Zeta Squad.

The Seear raised his staff and said, “Please be seated.” Everyone sat. Adel Abayomi, the chief councillor, then got up. Adel was a civilian citizen of Ayn and served the Palace as a scribe for the Seear and also held a post at the library. The slender, dark-skinned tall man, rocking a comb-over hairstyle and a goatee, was wearing the council’s signature silver robe. He looked at the Seear. “By your leave, my Lord…” he said with a half-bow.

Renekom nodded. “Thank you,” the councillor continued. “The 2^nd of August 2006, Vincent, the infamous bounty hunter, known as the White Bolt, was apprehended by the Zeta Squad near the Gold Coast, Australia, after a grand showdown. The criminal resisted but our champions brought him down.”

He waited as the crowd once again cheered loudly this time accompanied by the Seear and all attendees.

“Thank you,” he said, and the crowd slowly stopped. “We would, at this point, like to become the voice of one and all and thank the squad led by the illustrious Master Baylis, for their great service, not just to the Palace, but for humanity. They have time and again proved that they are, as of right now, our most celebrated squad of Martial Artists.”

The Seear tapped his staff on the ground and once again there was a loud cheer, albeit it did not last as long.

“And now,” Adel continued looking at Hugo, “As is tradition, I give you the chief captor: Zaatsu Master Hugo Baylis.”

Hugo got up and walked up to Vincent amidst yet another cheer. He circled around the prisoner with a bowed head and stopped in front of the Seear. He looked at him and then turned over to remove Vincent’s blindfold. He then once again walked to the other side. ‘Where to begin,’ he thought. ‘I have to do this right.’