The room is cold and sterile, lit only by a flickering fluorescent light. You sit cuffed to a metal chair, wrists aching under the weight of the power-sealing restraints. Across from you, a stern woman in a sharp uniform flips through a digital clipboard.

Woman: "Let’s get this over with. Name, Age, Crime, and Power."

Her voice is clipped, disinterested, like she’s done this a thousand times.