THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 55 - 54: Messages in Shadow

"Clear the gallery."

Guards moved through the courtroom like a tide pushing spectators toward exit doors. Voices echoed off stone walls as citizens filed through main corridors. Recording crystals dimmed. News vendors packed their equipment.

Leon stood between two Association guards. Their armor gleamed under torchlight. Mana-forged cuffs pulsed against his wrists with steady blue energy. Each pulse reminded him of power locked away behind suppression runes.

His shoulders ached from hours in restraints. The formal charges weighed heavier than physical discomfort. Murder. Unauthorized necromancy. Disruption of established order. Each accusation carried death sentences.

But his expression stayed controlled. No fear showed in his eyes.

"This way."

The left guard gestured toward a narrow passage. Different from where others walked. Stone walls bore older inscriptions here. Torches flickered with inconsistent light. Less maintained than public areas.

Leon noticed the deliberate separation. Security protocol or intentional privacy. Either way, isolation meant vulnerability.

Their footsteps echoed against ancient stone. Carved names of forgotten hunters decorated the walls. Heroes whose achievements built their civilization. Now dust and memory.

A figure stepped from shadows ahead.

Callen Etros blocked their path. ARES Guild representative. Distant cousin of dead Tobias Virell. Controlled emotion burned behind his eyes like banked coals.

Both guards tensed. Hands moved toward weapons. Professional training against unexpected threats.

Callen raised his palm. "Not here for violence."

Torchlight painted harsh shadows across his face. Grief mixed with anger in expressions Leon recognized. Family honor demanded satisfaction. Blood called for blood.

"Why?" Callen stepped closer. Raw emotion cracked his composure. "Why destroy everything we built? Generations of Virell achievements. Gone because of you."

Leon met his stare without flinching. "Survival. Justice. For everyone who deserved it."

"Deserved?" Callen’s voice rose. "You unmade a bloodline that shaped continents. Ended a legacy that..."

"Protected who?" Leon cut him off. "Your cousin attacked civilians. Targeted families. Used his rank to terrorize those who couldn’t fight back."

The corridor fell silent except for flickering torch flames. Truth hung between them like a blade.

"Does that make it right?" Callen demanded. "Does ending tyranny justify becoming one?"

Tension built in the narrow space. Guards stepped closer. Hands hovered near sword hilts despite Callen’s earlier assurance.

But the ARES representative backed away. Recognized the moment’s danger. Violence here would accomplish nothing.

"Justice." Callen spat the word like poison. "You call murder justice."

He turned toward afternoon sunlight streaming through the corridor’s far end. His footsteps echoed louder now. Anger driving each step.

Leon watched him disappear into brightness. The encounter left questions hanging in stone air. Right and wrong blurred when power corrupted everything it touched.

"Move." The right guard’s voice carried no emotion. Professional distance from political complications.

They resumed walking through dimming torchlight. The corridor returned to relative silence. Only their footsteps and distant courthouse sounds.

The containment vehicle waited outside. Black steel plating covered every surface. Manna-forged construction designed for dangerous cargo. Steam hissed from suppression systems.

Leon approached under continued supervision. Two guards flanked him. Protocol demanded constant vigilance around enhanced individuals.

Someone stumbled into him near the vehicle’s entrance.

A figure in courthouse robes. Face hidden by hood. The collision seemed accidental. Natural clumsiness in crowded transfer areas.

But something pressed into Leon’s palm during contact. Small. Flat. Paper.

Leon wobbled from unexpected impact. Maintained balance while concealing whatever had been passed to him. His fingers closed around the hidden object.

The hooded figure disappeared into afternoon crowds. Identity lost among courthouse workers and departing spectators.

Guards noticed nothing unusual. Transfer procedures continued without interruption.

"Inside."

Leon climbed into the containment vehicle. Metal doors sealed behind him with hydraulic precision. Multiple locks engaged in sequence. Mechanical. Magical. Something else that made his teeth ache.

Privacy at last.

He opened his palm. A small piece of paper lay folded tight. Careful handwriting covered one side in elegant script.

The message was brief:

"Defend yourself well and the outcome will favour you as I have always wanted to meet you."

Leon read the words three times. Someone among the trial participants had taken significant risk to contact him. Exposure meant professional ruin. Possibly worse.

But who?

Twelve jurors held his fate. Each carried personal agendas. Political pressures. Guild loyalties. Family obligations.

Lady Thelyra’s knowing smirk suggested hidden knowledge. Her private nature made reading intentions impossible. Aristocratic games within games.

Elim Voth’s curious eyes had shown interest rather than condemnation. Ancient wisdom evaluating something unprecedented. Celestial Path rarely involved themselves in politics.

Saria Dullin’s cryptic comments hinted at respect for adaptation. Survival instincts most hunters lacked. Professional admiration for unconventional success.

Others seemed locked into predetermined positions. Voskar’s military discipline. Murne’s moral outrage. Etros’s family grief. Dekker’s corruption calculations.

The message could be bait. Enemies sometimes offered false hope before delivering final blows. But what purpose would deception serve? Leon already faced execution.

No. Someone had genuinely risked exposure to encourage him. The handwriting showed careful consideration. Precise word choice. This wasn’t casual manipulation.

The vehicle rumbled through city streets. Leon leaned against metal walls that radiated suppression energy. His mana remained locked away. His zombies felt like distant echoes.

But his mind stayed sharp.

Tomorrow brought evidence presentation. Witness testimony. Legal arguments that would determine everything. Life or death decided by political calculations.

The mysterious ally represented hope amid overwhelming opposition. Someone believed in his cause enough to risk their position. Professional reputation. Possibly their life.

Leon folded the paper carefully. Tucked it against his chest where guards couldn’t see. A reminder that not everyone wanted him dead.

The courthouse disappeared behind them. Stone walls gave way to residential districts. Normal people living ordinary lives while extraordinary decisions shaped their world.

Leon closed his eyes and processed the day’s events. Callen’s grief. The jury’s calculating stares. A stranger’s unexpected support.

The vehicle carried him back toward his cell. Toward another night of preparation before facing judgment. But now he wasn’t completely alone.

Someone wanted to meet him. Someone believed the outcome could favor him.

Leon would defend himself well. He owed that much to his mysterious ally.

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