Sunlight cut across the marble steps of the council hall like a knife, glinting off the edges of Selene's robes. She stood at the top, motionless, her posture flawless, eyes calm, lips curved in the faintest suggestion of a smile. Below her, the city breathed, unaware of the subtle forces she had set into motion. Every decision, every decree, every seemingly trivial gesture had been a step in a dance no one else could see. She didn't need applause. She didn't need recognition. Control was enough.
Early on, Selene had believed that fairness and idealism could change the world. She had argued, pleaded, debated. She had imagined a city where justice flowed evenly, like sunlight through glass. But the world had teeth. Corruption seeped through cracks she hadn't noticed. People acted according to instinct, prejudice, fear. Selene realized quickly: idealism without precision was wasted effort. And precision required observation, calculation, manipulation.
