A Single Ballot

The Council Chamber is colder than the vacuum outside. Eleven faces stare down at you from the curved dais — some flushed with fury, others gray with relief that someone finally pulled the lie into the light. Hadley's hands tremble on her gavel.

"Silence her," hisses Councilor Voss. "She's a child playing with a knife." But old Marek leans forward, eyes wet. "Or she's the knife we've been too cowardly to lift."

The vote splits five to five. Hadley's gaze finds yours. You are the deciding voice. The colony's future balances on what you say next.