A dimly lit courtroom where the air hums with tension, the wooden benches cracked with age and whispered secrets. A lone jury box holds twelve faceless silhouettes, their heads replaced by antique scales that tilt precariously under unseen weights. At the center, a defendant—their face fragmented like shattered glass—stands chained to a towering stack of leather-bound case files labeled "TRUTH" in peeling gold lettering. Behind the judge's bench, a mirror reflects not the room but a swirling storm of newspaper clippings, each headline screaming variations of "TESTED" and "DESERVE." The floor is littered with broken gavels, one embedded in a puddle of ink that spells "CRAZY" in jagged, desperate strokes. Shadows stretch unnaturally toward the ceiling, where a single noose dangles empty but poised. Ver más