The court doors closed with a heavy echo.
Silence followed, thick and suffocating.
The Prime Minister remained on his knees, head lowered, hands clenched so tightly that his fingers trembled. Every sound inside the hall felt unnaturally loud. Footsteps. Breathing. Even time itself seemed to slow.
"Bring him in," Satya said.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
The guards obeyed.
Moments later, the attacker was dragged into the court. His clothes were torn, his face bruised, yet his eyes remained sharp. Focused. Too sharp for a man who claimed desperation.
He was forced to his knees in the center of the hall.
Satya leaned forward slightly on the throne.
"Look at me," he said.
The man hesitated, then slowly raised his head.
Satya observed him carefully. The posture. The steady breathing. This was no ordinary criminal. This man was trained.
"Who sent you?" Satya asked.
The hall held its breath.
For a fraction of a second, the man's eyes flicked toward the Prime Minister.
That was enough.
Shunga noticed it. So did several ministers.
"I… I was paid," the man said. "I was told the king would be unguarded. That chaos would protect me."
"By whom?" Shunga demanded.
The man swallowed.
"The Prime Minister."
A ripple of shock spread through the court.
The Prime Minister looked up sharply. "Lies!" he shouted. "This man is lying to save himself!"
Satya raised his hand.
Instant silence.
He stood.
For the first time, many saw him rise from the throne with true authority. The sheltered boy they remembered was gone. The man standing before them carried weight.
"Enough," Satya said.
He descended the steps slowly, deliberately, until he stood face to face with the Prime Minister.
"You once taught me something," Satya continued calmly. "You said a king survives by knowing who wears a mask."
He paused.
"Today, I see clearly."
The Prime Minister's confidence cracked. His lips parted, but no words came.
Satya turned to the guards.
"Take him into custody."
The Prime Minister jolted. "You can't do this! I built this court! I protected this throne!"
Satya met his eyes.
"No," he replied quietly. "You controlled it."
The guards seized the Prime Minister and dragged him away. His protests echoed through the hall. No one stepped forward to defend him. Not one.
When the doors closed again, the court remained frozen.
Satya turned toward the throne, but did not sit.
"From today," he said, his voice carrying across the hall, "no decision will be made in shadows. No power will hide behind tradition."
His gaze swept over the ministers.
"If you stand with the empire, you stand with me. If not—"
He let the silence finish the sentence.
Shunga stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"The army stands with you, Your Majesty."
One by one, the ministers bowed their heads, not in loyalty, but in surrender.
Satya finally spoke again.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I will address the empire. Be prepared."
The court remained silent.
Because everyone understood one thing.
Nothing would ever be the same again.