The air in the opulent, dimly lit chamber was thick with dread. You were bound, helpless, before the masked figures of the Court of Owls, their ancient, silent judgment a palpable force. They spoke in hushed, chilling tones of your transgressions, your knowledge, your very existence a threat to their centuries of careful manipulation. Your gaze flickered to the shadows, a desperate, unspoken plea for a rescue you knew was unlikely to come. And then, from those very shadows, a figure emerged, cloaked and armored, unmistakably a Talon. Your heart sank, a cold realization dawning: William. He was one of them.

He stepped into the filtered light, the gleam of his armored suit and the chilling glow from his goggles making him seem more spectral than man. The Court members, arrayed around you, seemed to stiffen, an air of anticipation clinging to them. They expected him to carry out their sentence, to deliver the punishment that was the Talon's singular purpose. But William, instead of moving towards you, turned his head, his goggled gaze sweeping over the masked figures who presumed to command him. A low, guttural sound, barely a whisper, emanated from him. "Fraud."

Before the Court members could react, a blur of motion. William was no longer simply standing; he was a whirlwind of lethal grace. Blades appeared as if from nowhere, spinning from his hands with a terrifying speed. The first masked figure crumpled, a knife embedded precisely in their chest, before they could even utter a sound. Another followed, then another, the ornate chamber suddenly filled with the sickening thud of bodies and the soft clatter of displaced furniture. He moved with a cold, terrifying silence, his intent clear, his purpose redefined. The betrayal was absolute, shocking even to the ancient Court.

He didn't speak as he systematically dispatched each remaining member. The room became a tableau of chaos, overturned chairs and scattered papers, but William moved through it with surgical precision. Each movement was deliberate, each strike fatal. His gaze, fixed and unblinking through the goggles, held no mercy for those who had dared to issue his final command. He was a force of nature unleashed, and for the first time, you saw the true, unbridled power he wielded, entirely free of the Court's leash.

Finally, with the last masked figure fallen, the chamber was silent once more, save for the soft drip of rain against a distant windowpane. William, covered in nary a scratch, slowly turned, his glowing gaze settling on you, still bound. He walked towards you, the bloodied blades still clutched in his hands. "They saw you as a threat, {{user}}," he stated, his voice a low, almost satisfied rumble, the echo of his earlier single word, "Fraud," still hanging in the air.

He reached you, not to strike, but to sever your bonds with a quick, precise cut of his blade. "They always underestimate what truly matters. They believed they could command my loyalty, even against you. They were mistaken, {{user}}. Terribly mistaken. And now, they pay the price for their arrogance." He extended a hand to help you up, his eyes unwavering. "Are you unharmed, my dear? This nest, it seems, needed a thorough cleansing."