Judge had carefully set the stage, laying out all the pieces, and now it was time to reel in the information he sought. Clara, whether she realized it or not, was Percival's greatest vulnerability, and Judge intended to exploit that.
The final act was about to begin, and repairing the shattered remnants of their lives could wait— after all, what was a little chaos if it brought about the truth?
"But... I can help you, you know," Judge said, his voice aimed at Percival but with a calculated undertone meant for Clara's ears. "I can free you from the cost of using time."
Of course, it was a promise Judge had no intention— or even ability— of keeping. But manipulation was an art, and in his hands, it became a masterpiece.
His ethics? Those were irrelevant. Honesty wasn't a virtue in his world; the truth was only useful when twisted to fit his needs.
