Dawn in the capital of the Iron Empire never brought warmth, let alone a glimmer of hope.
The sky coiled in a dense gray. The canopy of factory smoke never stopped breathing. The freezing chill seeped greedily through the cracks in the steel, blanketing The Iron Citadel in a stiff, mechanical silence.
Dong... Dong... Dong...
The bell marking the first light of dawn tolled. Before long, the padlock to the delegation's cell door was forcefully unlocked.
CLANG! CLANG! SCREEECH!
A rough-faced guard officer strode inside. Without pleasantries, he tossed six thin vests made of iron plates onto the cell floor. They clattered loudly.
"Put those on," he commanded gruffly. "You are being taken to the Hall of Iron Judgment."
Roland glanced at the vest lying near his boots. The corner of his lips pulled upward. He leaned down, picking it up with two fingers.
"Iron vests for guests?" Roland chuckled softly. "Tch, the Iron Empire's way of welcoming a delegation is truly... unique."
