Justice Will Be Served

Edward let out a long, weary sigh, his hazel eyes filled with quiet tension.

"Alice is right. We shouldn't talk about such things here. Let's first get you out of here."

Arthur slowly nodded, knowing that his father and Alice wouldn't speak freely as long as they were within these walls. 

The room—despite its luxurious furnishings and high-tech medical equipment—suddenly felt stifling, as if unseen eyes and ears were lurking in every shadow.

But before they could move, a sharp knock echoed against the door, making all of them instinctively turn toward it. 

Arthur could feel a faint tensing in Alice's shoulders, and even his father's usually composed expression stiffened for a fraction of a second.

The door slid open, and a tall, imposing figure stepped inside.

Derek.

Dressed in a well-tailored blue suit, the President of the WHA carried himself with an effortless grace, his presence commanding as always.