Misuse of power? Oh, how petty!, part 1/2

(AN: The outdated ability evolution window in the previous chapter was fixed!)

The next day:

Tia walked through the vast circular atrium, its black basalt walls shimmering under the bright, golden light cascading from the high ceiling. The crowd, a sea of black coats and grey suits, parted in her path, their eyes briefly meeting hers before darting away, fear thinly veiled. The only sounds were the muted rustle of fabric, the faint whispers, and the soft tapping of boots against stone.

The decorated coat draped over her shoulders and the silver imperial insignia pinned to her chest gave her an air of authority. She moved with purpose toward the golden elevator doors, her gaze fixed ahead, ignoring the crowds of sheep around her.

'They are working fast...' It was only recently that the empire destroyed the old government district, yet the new one had already risen in its place, the overly pompous imperial architecture replacing the federation's simplistic and functional one.

The golden elevator doors parted in her path, and she stepped in. Then they closed behind her soundlessly, leaving the crowded atrium behind.

'Who would have thought I have so much power now..' She wasn't naive. She had meticulously researched her newfound rank.

Imperial knights fell into two distinct orders. The first, the Imperial Army Knights, were an elite echelon within the military, composed of espers and superhumans, their abilities honed for warfare. They held their military ranks and were part of its command structure.

The second, a more chaotic cadre, was the personal knights, answering only to high-ranking officials; their influence was a reflection of the powers they served. The more powerful their master was, the higher their rank.

'In Red's domain, I wield frightening freedom. Probably even an imperial admiral or marshal can't order me around.' The thought sent a thrill through her, momentarily distracting her from the bitter taste of the humiliation that came with her new life.

The elevator's chime snapped Tia back to the present as the doors slid open, revealing a long corridor draped in shadows. Imperial flags in hues of purple, gold, and black hung solemnly on the walls, their colors a stark contrast against the corridor's darkness.

Guards stood at attention in their silver and black uniforms and the crisp lines of their military coats gave them official looks.

She noted the doors lining the corridor, each bearing a nametag that glinted under the muted light. Her eyes were drawn to the far end, to a door distinguished from the rest. 'My office,' she thought, a sense of ownership stirring within her. It wasn't just any office; it was a symbol of her newfound stature.

"Madam, they are waiting for you!" A soldier's voice, sharp and urgent, broke through her reverie. Tia turned, her expression momentarily clouded with confusion, and then clarity dawned, her mind piecing together the forgotten appointment.

'Who is waiting for...' She couldn't finish her thought as a lightbulb lit up in her mind: 'Oh, them! How long were they here?'

'Ah, them. How long have they been stewing in their own worry?' A smile, sharp as a blade, crept across her lips. Those who had once stood against her, now trapped in the web of her authority, awaited their fate like pawns, their lives entirely in her hands.

'You have judged me and called me insane; now the tables are turned.' The thought was a surge of power, exhilarating and intoxicating. She relished control and the ability to shape destinies with her decisions.

She mused with a hint of cold amusement, 'A single call, and they were arrested in an hour.'

Tia slightly shuddered, feeling as if her escape from the hospital wasn't in the lax federation but in the authoritative and oppressive empire, then her freedom would be shortlived.

POV ???:

Antoine de Saint lay sprawled on the cold, unyielding concrete, its chill seeping through his clothes and into his bones. He gazed blankly at the barren ceiling of the cramped room, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear.

As a lawyer, he was accustomed to dissecting complex situations, but now his predicament was a maze he couldn't navigate.

'Damn this empire...' he cursed under his breath. Even after renouncing his allegiance to the fallen federation, he found himself trapped, discarded in this icy cell. His hands trembled, not just from the cold but from the dawning realization of his grim reality.

'This is no minor accusation...' His trained mind understood the gravity of his situation. Ordinary criminals were dealt with by the planetary guard, but his abrupt abduction in broad daylight by the imperial security's ominous black uniforms spoke of something much worse.

'I'm as good as dead... Torture, perhaps worse.' His thoughts spiraled into despair. The silence of the cell was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant, muffled sounds of the facility. The starkness of his surroundings—the stark walls, the sterile smell of antiseptics—seemed to mock his helplessness.