The grand hall of the Bureau, usually echoing with the hum of the Ledger, was unusually hushed. A figure stood before the central dais, where senior adjudicators usually presided. He was tall, impeccably dressed in the flowing robes of a merchant, his face smooth and almost unnervingly handsome. But there was a subtle wrongness to him, a slight distortion around the eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible scent of ozone that prickled at Elias's senses. He was Bloodkin, a race of energy-manipulating humanoids from the outer planes, masters of disguise, and notoriously untrustworthy in the eyes of the Bureau.
The merchant, who introduced himself as Lord Valerius, was petitioning the Bureau to overturn a trade sanction imposed by the Sentinel Corps, the military arm of the Realm. The sanction, according to the official report, was due to "irregularities in import manifests" and "suspected collusion with rogue artificers." But Elias, observing from the sidelines, knew this case was rigged.
He'd seen the preliminary reports. The evidence was flimsy, circumstantial. The Ledger, however, had flagged Valerius with a moderate karmic deficit, citing his "inherent alien nature" and "potential for disruption of the human energy flow." It was blatant prejudice, a subtle manipulation of the Ledger's inherent biases. The Merchant's Guild, Elias knew, had powerful friends in the Sentinel Corps, and they wanted Valerius out of the picture.
Elias felt a familiar surge of cold anger. The Ledger, once again, was being used as a weapon.
As the hearing progressed, Elias noticed subtle inconsistencies in Valerius's testimony. A slight hesitation when describing his trade routes, a fleeting flicker of unease when the topic of artificer technology came up. The Bloodkin was indeed hiding something. But it wasn't the petty smuggling the Sentinel Corps accused him of. It was something far more significant.
Elias discreetly accessed the Bureau's external intelligence network, a tightly controlled database of Sentinel reports and informant logs. He found a heavily redacted entry, mentioning a "suspected Bloodkin agent" attempting to acquire schematics for a Phase-Shift Generator, a highly volatile piece of artificer tech capable of disrupting dimensional barriers. Valerius was a spy, not a smuggler.
But instead of exposing him, which would have been the obvious, "karmically correct" thing to do, Elias chose a different path. He subtly altered a karmic report, a routine assessment of Valerius's overall threat level, destined for a minor Sentinel informant. He didn't flag Valerius as a spy. Instead, he painted him as a potential asset, a source of valuable intelligence on the Alchemists' Guild (Mei Lin's family again). He subtly emphasized the Bloodkin's "inherent manipulative tendencies," suggesting he could be turned against his own kind.
The report, subtly re-weighted to emphasize the "potential for manipulation" and "strategic value" of the Bloodkin merchant, would land on the desk of a Sentinel officer who was known for his ambition and his willingness to bend the rules for personal gain. The officer would see Valerius not as a threat, but as a pawn.
Two days later, Valerius disappeared. He was quietly taken into Sentinel custody, his movements meticulously tracked, his communications intercepted. The Ledger, however, never updated to reflect his true fate. It still showed him as a legitimate merchant, his karmic deficit slowly diminishing as he continued his (now nonexistent) trade.
Elias watched the Sentinel report scroll across his screen, a grim satisfaction settling in his gut. He hadn't saved Valerius. He'd merely redirected him, ensuring he was monitored, controlled. The Bloodkin was a threat, but a controlled threat was a useful tool. And the Ledger, oblivious to the subtle manipulations, continued to hum its comforting lie of perfect justice.