Inside the private room, the door was shut tight, blocking out the clamor of the tavern's main hall.
The soul television on the wall had been on the whole time, tuned to the Federation's public news channel. Its volume was kept low, the background reporting drifting faintly through the room.
Three Federation employees sat around a round table. Bottles and glasses stood on the table, while peanuts, cold dressed chives, and several other drinking snacks rested on the lazy Susan.
Several rounds of drinks had already passed, and a faint flush of intoxication colored their faces. Glasses clinked frequently, chopsticks kept reaching into the dishes, and their attention was entirely on their conversation. The television served only as background noise; none of them paid particular attention to the images on its screen.
They spoke quietly about trivial matters at work and the current situation, the smell of alcohol mingling with the heat of the food to fill the small room.
Just as they became engrossed in their conversation, an impassioned, booming voice suddenly burst from the television speakers, accompanied by the tide-like clamor of a public square. The volume surged with the live broadcast's audio feed.
"I will investigate Shrek Academy! I will restore justice to the world!"
That shout pierced the noise of their drinking session and forced its way into their ears.
All three men at the table froze at once. Hands raised to clink glasses stopped in midair, and their words cut off abruptly.
They had yet to sober up completely, but that declaration was far too jarring. They instinctively turned their heads, their gazes landing together on the soul television mounted on the wall.
The screen showed live footage of the square outside the court. The lights of countless soul cameras flashed incessantly, and reporters crowded