[REPUBLIC OF ILLIANA, 456TH CENTURY, WINTER]
Winter cast its icy grip over the Republic of Illiana. Snow swirled outside, adding a bleak layer to the already tense almosphere within the dimly lit prison cell.
Ophelia's breath came out in visible puffs as she confronted President Maras, who was confined behind iron bars, his once imposing presence now reduced to a figure of regret.
"You made a deal with them?!" Ophelia's voice cut trough the cold air, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and disappointment. "They are using you, Maras!"
Maras, hunched on the narrow cot, looked up with hollow eyes. "I know… I was wrong. I admit that I was stupid enough to let them intervene" his voice trembled, laden with guilt. "I want to fix this mess…"
Ophelia crouched down to his level, her intense gaze never waver, "We have to do something. First, we need to get you out of here" she glanced around, her eyes darting to the shadows, alert for any signs of danger.
