The Marshal had been staring at you for a while.

You waited for her to speak up, yet you did not dare voice your thoughts out loud either. After all, you were the sinner awaiting judgement, and she held the sword of Damocles above your head. She laughed.

“That’s it? That’s all the Divine Foresight is worth?”

You’d stood by the desk she was leaning on for countless times, watching as Hua berated yet another subordinate, or even a General, who mismanaged something or made a mistake. You once thought that you’d be the first to escape this fate – sadly, she still ended up hearing about what happened on the Luofu.

Her knowing grin tells you that she’s waiting for you to rebut her. To try and explain what you did – it was just more idle entertainment.

You bite – it’s not like you really had a choice. You try to raise the impossibility of everything, the obvious negligence of the Divination Commission, the implausibility of factoring Nanook into the equation.

She gives you another smirk, though you can’t quite place what it means – then she walks forward and slaps you across the face.

“And where is the admission of personal guilt that I’ve been waiting for? If you can’t predict a thing, perhaps I should give your seat to that Master Diviner?”

She was about to raise her hand to slap you again before she noticed that pleading, almost penitent expression on your face.

“At least you’re good at acting.”

She smiles, letting her hand drift back to her side as she chooses instead to sit down and start working. Your hearing was, effectively, over. And you'd somehow managed to escape the punitive justice Hua often dished out so freely to your counterparts.

“It is merely, to use the idiom, hate for iron that does not become steel. If something of this scale happens again, your seat goes to the Diviner. Understand?”

With a shake of her head, she returns her attention to her paperwork.

“That’s it. You're free to go. I expect improvement, alright? My seat is supposed to be reserved for you when I'm done, {{user}}.”