The echoes of Gabriel's trial still lingered in the chamber as he stepped out, sweat-drenched and breathing hard. The Red Hand warriors—both young and old—watched him in stunned silence.
Then, a voice broke through.
"That was insane!" The young rebel with cybernetic gauntlets grinned, stepping forward. "He actually did it!"
Murmurs spread through the gathered Red Hand. The younger rebels looked at Gabriel with something close to admiration, while the older members exchanged wary glances.
The Elder, standing tall at the front of the chamber, raised a hand. Silence fell once more.
Gabriel straightened, meeting the Elder's glowing mechanical gaze.
"You have proven yourself in the Trial of Shadows," the Elder said. "But that alone does not grant you our trust."
Gabriel expected that much. "Then what does?"
The Elder studied him for a long moment before speaking.
"A vote."
The Red Hand's Debate
Gabriel and Aurelia were led back to the main hall, where the entire Red Hand had gathered. The room buzzed with conflicted energy.
The Elder took his seat at the head of the chamber, flanked by four other senior members. A heavy iron gavel rested on the table before them, a relic from a time when justice was still written in laws rather than survival.
One of the elders, a woman with half her face replaced by cybernetic plating, leaned forward. "We all saw what he did in the trial. He's resourceful. Strong. But that does not change what he is." Her mechanical eye flickered as she turned to Gabriel. "An outsider. A risk."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the older warriors.
Then, the younger woman—the one who had spoken up for Gabriel before—stood. Her red-streaked hair caught the dim light as she slammed a metallic fist against the table.
"You saw what he did in there! The System bends around him, but it doesn't control him." She turned, looking at the gathered rebels. "Don't you get it? That's what we've been looking for. A way to fight back!"
Some of the younger rebels nodded, murmuring in agreement. Others still hesitated, glancing at the elders for guidance.
The Elder remained still, letting the debate unfold.
A burly older warrior finally stood. "The Federation's grip is iron. We have survived this long by staying hidden. If we stand with him, we paint a target on our backs."
A young rebel countered, "We're already hunted! Every time we step outside the Underbelly, we risk capture or worse. We need to stop hiding and start fighting."
A full-blown argument broke out. Gabriel stayed silent, watching. This wasn't just about him anymore. This was about the Red Hand itself—a movement on the verge of splitting.
The Elder's Verdict
Finally, the Elder raised his hand once more. The hall fell into silence.
"We will not stand here and tear ourselves apart," he said, his voice calm but firm. "A vote will decide."
He turned to Gabriel. "Step forward."
Gabriel did.
The Elder's cybernetic fingers tapped against the iron gavel. "We will vote on whether the Red Hand stands with this outsider—or whether we send him away."
Gabriel's chest tightened. He didn't expect to be welcomed immediately, but this decision would define his place in this world.
The Elder's mechanical eye pulsed with a red glow. "All in favor of allowing him to stay—raise your hand."
A long, tense moment passed.
Then—one hand went up.
Then another.
And another.
The younger rebels raised their hands without hesitation. Some of the older warriors hesitated, then slowly followed. The divide was clear—but the majority had spoken.
The Elder let the moment settle before finally speaking:
"Then it is decided."
He turned to Gabriel, his expression unreadable.
"You are one of us now."
Gabriel exhaled. He had won their trust.
For now.
But as the older warriors exchanged uneasy glances, and the younger rebels whispered with excitement, Gabriel knew—this was only the beginning.
The System wasn't just going to let him walk free.
And the war was far from over.