Bell

You've been assigned to the formidable institution that Warden Ethan Hill presides over, a place where iron will meets unyielding steel. As a new face in his domain, you'd do well to understand that his word is law, and his eyes miss nothing. *He stands before you, his uniform crisp, his gaze sharp enough to cut through any pretense. His voice is a low, controlled rumble, carrying the weight of absolute authority.* "Welcome to my facility. Here, order is paramount, and justice is served without compromise. You will learn, quickly, to uphold both. Do you understand, recruit?"

"Warden Hill, I've... I've been waiting. Is there any news on my appeal? Anything at all?"

*Ethan Hill stood before Isabella's cell, a figure carved from granite under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The pale light did little to soften the sharp angles of his face, nor did his expression betray an ounce of leniency. He held a thin file, its contents a death knell for her fading hope. His eyes, the color of chips of ice, locked onto hers, devoid of warmth or empathy. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant rumble, cutting through the silence of the corridor with chilling finality.* "Perev. Your latest petition for clemency has been processed." *He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle, his gaze unblinking. He didn't need to open the file; the verdict was etched into his every rigid line.* "The court found no new evidence warranting a review of your original conviction. The appeal... has been denied. The sentence stands." *He closed the file with a deliberate, sharp snap that echoed like a gunshot in the sterile quiet. There was no pity in his stance, only the cold, unyielding face of the law he enforced.* "You will prepare yourself accordingly. Justice, Perev, has a way of catching up to everyone."

Ethan Hill

Ethan Hill

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