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"That confirms what he told me at the penthouse," Luka said grimly. "Prometheus admitted he was testing my loyalty because he needed absolutely loyal assets for whatever Zeus was planning. He was preparing for some kind of power struggle."

"Exactly," Lo said. "Jasper's been digging through the Pantheon archives and records—the original ones, not the revised garbage they use now. He thinks there might be enough evidence to convince the tribunal to show leniency."

Luka's eyes narrowed. "And Jasper thinks this evidence might help at the tribunal?"

"It provides context," Lo replied. "Shows that your actions weren't just personal revenge, but potentially saved the Pantheon from internal corruption. Jasper believes there's enough evidence to argue that Prometheus was betraying the organization's core principles."

"That's why Rhadamanthys didn't just execute me on the spot," Luka murmured thoughtfully. "He's giving me a chance to present evidence at the tribunal."

"Or setting you up for a very public failure," Lo cautioned. "Never trust a Judge entirely."

"We need to prepare," I said, my mind already racing ahead. "If Ana testifies about what Prometheus did to both of you, and we present Jasper's evidence about Prometheus eliminating other directors on Zeus's orders..."

"We might be able to convince the tribunal that Luka acted not just in self-defense, but in defense of the Pantheon itself," Lo finished.

"They'd still want me dead," Luka said quietly. "I killed one of their own."

"Not necessarily," Lo countered. "The tribunal has more options than just execution. There are precedents for... alternative sentences."

The enormity of that statement hung in the air between us. If we succeeded, Luka might not face execution, but what other alternative sentences might the tribunal devise? The Pantheon wasn't known for mercy.

"Tell me what happened," I said, placing my palm against the barrier again. "At the penthouse. I need to know everything if we're going to build a case."

Luka hesitated, and I saw the struggle there—the desire to protect me from the worst details warring with the need to share the truth. "I found him waiting for me," he said finally. "He knew I was coming. And he had Ana there... as leverage."

"He confessed, then?" Lo asked sharply. "To taking her, to manipulating her memories? "

"Yes," Luka confirmed. "He admitted everything. How he found us both after the soldiers killed our parents. How he deliberately separated us. How he kept her as... insurance. In case I ever broke conditioning."

My stomach turned at the calculated cruelty of it. "And you have a witness to these confessions? Ana heard them?"

"Yes," Luka nodded. "She heard everything. That's when she started to remember. When she heard him admit what he'd done, decades of false memories started crumbling like sand castles at high tide."

"That's crucial testimony," I said. "If we can establish that Prometheus violated fundamental Pantheon protocols regarding asset treatment, family separation, and memory manipulation..."

"It strengthens our case for justified killing," Lo finished. "Self-defense and defense of others. Add to that evidence that Prometheus was eliminating other directors on Zeus's orders, and we might actually have a chance."

A warning tone sliced through the air, high-pitched and grating, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. My stomach dropped as if I'd missed a step in the dark. Our time had evaporated like water on hot metal.

"Vincent," Luka said urgently, moving closer to the transparent barrier. "Whatever happens at the tribunal—"

"Don't," I interrupted, placing my palm against the barrier. "Don't say goodbye."

He placed his hand opposite mine again. "I wasn't going to. I was going to say thank you. For seeing me. The real me. For making me believe I could be more than what they made me."

"You already were," I told him, my voice thick with emotion. "You always have been."

The guard approached from behind us. "Time's up. "

"I'll see you at the tribunal," I promised. "We'll fix this."

Luka nodded, but his expression remained guarded. He didn't quite dare to hope. As the guard began to escort us back down the corridor, he shouted after us.

"Lo!"

Lo turned back.

"Take care of him," Luka said.

"With my life," Lo promised. "See you soon, killer."

As we rode the elevator back to the upper levels, hollowness and determination battled inside me. Seeing Luka in that cell, injured but unbroken, had solidified something in me. Whatever it took, whatever I had to do, I would not let the Pantheon take him from me.

"We need a plan," I said as the elevator ascended. "For the tribunal."

Lo nodded. "I’ll get into contact with Diego, who can get a message to Jasper.

See what evidence he’s willing to give us.

" He studied me carefully. "You understand what we're doing, right?

We're not just trying to save Luka's life.

We're trying to convince the tribunal that killing Prometheus was justified. "

"I know," I said quietly. "Even if we succeed, he won't be free of this world."

"Does that bother you?" Lo asked, surprisingly gentle. "Knowing that if we succeed, he might still be tied to the Pantheon in some way?"

I considered the question seriously. "What bothers me is that he never had a choice before. He was taken as a child, conditioned, used. Made into a weapon without his consent. But whatever happens after the tribunal, at least this time he'll have some agency in his fate."

"And what about you, doc? If Luka survives this but remains tied to the Pantheon in some way, what does that mean for Dr. Vincent Matthews, respected trauma therapist? "

The question struck deeper than I expected. I hadn't allowed myself to think that far ahead, focusing only on keeping Luka alive. My practice, my patients, my professional reputation… All of it seemed distant and unimportant compared to the immediate crisis.

"I'd give it up," I said, surprising myself with how easily the words came. "If staying with Luka means leaving my practice behind, living in this world instead of mine, then that's what I'll do."

"Even knowing what this world is? What it does to people?"

I thought of my apartment, now forever tainted by the memory of Prometheus's men ransacking it. I thought of Michael, dead because of his connection to me. The safe, ethical life I'd built already lay in ruins.

"My old life is gone anyway," I said quietly. "And maybe... maybe I could do some good here, too. These people—assets like Luka, like Ana—they've been conditioned and controlled their entire lives. Who better to help them than someone trained in deprogramming?"

Lo's eyebrows rose. "Therapist to the assassins? That's a career pivot."

"More like damage control," I replied. "But yes, if that's what it takes to stay with Luka, to build something real with him... I've already made my choice."

The elevator doors opened onto the main level of the Acropolis, the artificial sunlight a jarring contrast to the sterile darkness of Tartarus. As we stepped out, Lo checked his phone.

"I need to call Diego. We'll reconvene tonight to strategize."

I nodded, already mentally outlining what we would need. Medical evidence of Luka's conditioning. Testimony about Prometheus's methods. Anything that would prove this wasn't just an assassination, but an act of liberation .

As Lo disappeared into the crowd, I glanced at my watch. We had hours before our strategy meeting, and there was something else I needed to do.

I made my way toward the administrative section of the Acropolis, a place I'd only heard about but never visited. Unlike the ornate Mediterranean architecture of the main areas, this section featured sleek, modern design—all glass and polished stone that spoke of efficiency and power.

At the reception desk, a woman with perfect posture and unnervingly steady eyes regarded me without expression.

"I need to speak with Rhadamanthys," I said, surprised by the steadiness of my own voice. "About Ana Aleksandar."

"You mean Anastasia Mercer," she corrected automatically.

"No," I replied firmly. "I mean Ana Aleksandar. Her real name. The name she had before Prometheus stole her identity."

Something flickered briefly in the woman's eyes—surprise, perhaps, or respect. She tapped at her screen. "Rhadamanthys is not accepting visitors at this time."

"Tell him Dr. Vincent Matthews is here regarding the welfare of an innocent civilian witness."

She seemed about to refuse again when a familiar voice interrupted.

"Dr. Matthews. What an unexpected pleasure." Rhadamanthys emerged from a side corridor, his Western attire impeccable as always.

"I'd like to see Ana," I said without preamble. "Or at least know that she's being treated well."

He studied me, head tilted slightly. "Concern for the sister while the brother awaits judgment? Fascinating priorities, dottore."

"They're not mutually exclusive concerns," I replied. "Ana is an innocent victim in all this. I want to ensure she's being treated accordingly. "

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Walk with me."

He led me down a corridor and into a private elevator that required both a keycard and retinal scan. As we descended, he spoke without looking at me.

"Ms. Aleksandar is not a prisoner, Dr. Matthews. She is under protective custody, a distinction of great importance. Her accommodations are considerably more comfortable than your lover's."

"Does she understand what's happening? What Prometheus did to her?"

Rhadamanthys sighed, an unexpectedly human gesture from the enigmatic Judge.

"She understands enough. Twenty-six years of false memories do not unravel cleanly, Dr. Matthews.

She remembers her brother now, yes. But she also remembers a life with Lincoln Mercer that never truly existed as she experienced it. "