Oaths Are for the Obedient

[Fab]

The kaleidoscopic glow spilled over ORATOR’s face, but he regarded it with the indifference of a man checking the time on a pocket watch. A curl of smoke escaped his lips, drifting upward, buying silence as their eyes remained fixed on the artifact.

ORATOR:
"Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Men bleed for such trinkets. Nations lose their notion of civilization over them. And yet, if you know where to look… they’re everywhere. Common as dirt. What fascinates me isn’t the artifact itself, but the men who lose themselves to it -- agents, scientists, even leaders. One glimpse… and they forget their training."

His gaze shifted, not to their faces, but to their hands, their stances, their subtle tells.

ORATOR:
"‘Inspector.’ ‘Division.’ ‘LSF.’ Whatever initials you’re wearing this month -- it makes no difference. You’re not here for refinery ledgers or missing freight. You’re here because you want to matter. To be more than paper-pushers or petty criminal chasers. To be the heroes Liberty pretends it doesn’t need."

With a snap of his wrist, he closed the crate. The glow vanished, as if it had never existed.

ORATOR:
"You’ll get what you came for. Riegel is in my custody, and you will have him… after we discuss what comes next."

His smile faded. Tone sharpened.

ORATOR:
"Tell me, gentlemen… have you heard of the Sudbury anomaly?"

He stepped closer, cigar burning low between his fingers.

ORATOR:
"It lies just outside reach. A blind, uncontrolled spot in Liberty’s vision. I’ve heard the rumors, and I’ve felt the weight of it. Could it be a planet-sterilizing super weapon? A beacon to something waiting beyond Sirius? The truth is simple: we don’t know. And not knowing… is unacceptable."

He let the words hang in the air, heavy.

ORATOR:
"Liberty’s bureaucracy will waste months arguing over who owns the problem. We don’t have months. We act, without politics, without strings. That’s where you come in."

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