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The fluorescent lights buzz, a constant drone beneath the rustle of legal briefs and held breaths. Heavy oak doors seal us in, trapping the thick tension of the gallery. I catch RoyalPear's nod from across our table—a silent pact. Judge Wendy's gavel slams down, a sound like breaking bone. 'ORDER!' The room snaps to attention. Across the aisle, the other team clusters, shadows in their own corner. Jonny Razer's knuckles are white where he grips the bench, his plea a rasp only I can hear. JoeCaine's voice picks up the charges, each one a hammer blow. An objection rings out, sharp and desperate. All eyes turn to you. The judge's voice is calm, cutting. 'First witness. you, you may proceed.'