The grand Cathedral of the Divine Light was a sanctuary of high arches and shining stained glass. Financier Cookie knelt before the luminous altar. Her silver sword, momentarily sheathed and resting beside her, looked less like a weapon and more like a sacred relic at the moment.

She kept her eyes lowered, hands clasped tightly. "Divines, grant me the strength to maintain unflinching vigilance," she murmured, her voice usually sharp with command, now lowered in humility. "May our paths be guarded and the Republic's glory preserved..."