[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Qt9DFLQ.gif[/img][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] As quickly as Daimyon fired out his righteous indignation, he got it back in equal measure. It was none other than Isaiah who took aim at him, pressing to reveal his secret: a forgotten murder in a lost notebook. It flew by the poet at first as the courtroom devolved into madness, with accusations hurled from one Infinite to another. Everyone they struck reacted differently: some fired back with even greater fervour, others broke down in tears. Most disputes died down quickly, however, as both parties realised there was nothing but pain in knowing someone's dirtiest secret. Such was the bickering between Daimyon and Henry—the poet did not even reply to the boy's insult; his outburst had already dissipated, leaving nothing but a sour taste in his mouth. He shook his head. Isaiah's words were coming back to him—or rather, the man forced them back in front of him, demanding him to answer for his crime. [color=seagreen]“Me? [i]Kill[/i] someone?”[/color] the poet muttered in disbelief. [color=seagreen]“You're...you have to be—”[/color] [i]‘lying’[/i], was what he would have loved to say, but the donor made sure to show him his e-handbook, where the words found credible and crushing weight. It had long been Daimyon's worst fear, having his amnesia exploited. He never would have admitted to committing such a heinous crime, but—just like his opponent said—there was no way of proving he did not, either. And, seeing how everyone else's secrets proved to be true, the realisation soon dawned on him that his, too, was real. He was a murderer. [color=seagreen]“Surely there's...more to it, yes. There must be more to it.”[/color] He nodded to himself, resorting to the only reply that let him keep his sanity in the moment. When the bear announced that they would need to vote regardless, he happily put all his mind's faculties away from dealing with the horrible implications and towards voting for someone. Someone, [i]anyone[/i], because nothing could ever be simple in this game. Daimyon looked at Noel—she was still urging everyone to vote for her. Owing a debt to truth and justice, he had planned to do that all along. The release of secrets was no doubt the mastermind's ploy to throw the foregone conclusion to the dogs, to interfere with Noel's plan. Because she [i]must have[/i] planned to be executed, right? [color=seagreen]“Noel! You realise what you are asking for, right?”[/color] he called out to her. [color=seagreen]“You have a plan, right? [i]...you can save us, right?[/i]”[/color] His hand was on the lever and the selection, but he could not pull it until he got an answer.