Neuvillette's POV

 Getting to the production zone wasn't all that difficult. After all, it's only appropriate that as Iudex I would know Meropide's layout.

 Getting to the upper lever, on the other hand...

 "The elevator is broken, Monsieur Neuvillette."

 "Broken?"

 "Yes, someone cut the cabals and sabotaged a few key components. It will take at least a day to get it fixed." An engineer said agitated.

 "We don't have a day."

 With the ever-growing commotion upstairs we hardly have an hour.

 "What about the stairs?"

 "Pardon?"

 "Are the stairs still functional?"

 Or were those rendered useless as well?

 "Respectfully, Monsieur Neuvillette, there are no stairs between the two levels of the production zone."

 I couldn't help but frown when I heard that comment.

 "Could you show me a map of the production zone's layout?"

 I could have sworn there was a set of stairs.

 A map was soon brought before me and I quickly noticed some discrepancies between this one and the one I had in my office.

 "Have you changed things down here in the past few decades?"

 "A few not used or broken down locations were sealed 30 years ago, but I'm not sure exactly where. That was before my time, Monsieur."

 And indeed, the chief engineer was rather young, barely thirty himself.

 Confirming our current location I took the map and started walking towards the northern side of the zone.

 Stopping before a wall, I turned to the group that had followed along.

 "Please tell his grace to write a damage report for this later and send it to the Palais Marmonia."

 "Damage report?"

 Instead of further explaining I swung my cane against the wall.

 Bang!

 I didn't hit it hard enough to break it. It was just to confirm-

 "Huh? This wall is hollow?" I heard someone notice.

 And indeed it was. My memory didn't fail me.

 Having confirmed my hypothesis, I swung my cane once more, this time with enough strength to pierce through the wall.

 A small hole was created, revealing a perfectly intact set of stairs.

 "This... Just a moment, Mosieur Neuvillette."

 While I could probably do it faster, for the sake of being sure that the structural integrity of the fortress wasn't damaged in any way, I let them cut a hole in the wall themselves.

 Against their reasoning, I was still the one who went up the stairs first though. It's been thirty years after all and we didn't know the reason why it was closed in the first place. There was no way of telling if the stairs were still functional or not.

 Luckily, they were still perfectly fine and after cutting another hole in the wall at the upper end, we arrived at the upper part of the production zone, at the exact opposite part from the commotion.

 "Slowly skim through the place and evacuate tho you can reach. Do not approach the group gathering at the other side under any circumstance and absolutely no one is to be up here in uniform. We wouldn't want to spook him into detonating the bombs."

 I have to say this token Wriothesely left with me came in quite handy.

 At first, I had thought that with my identity it would be difficult to get the people in Meropide to abide by my request during this operation, but thanks to the token, they did so without too much hesitation.

 This alone shows how much trust they hold in Wriothesely.

 Now...

 While I could knock the man responsible for this mess unconscious in mere seconds, I couldn't do that.

 Too many unknown variables.

 Not even knowing his motive, I cannot be sure whether these are the only explosives placed within Meropide. Maybe there are more. Maybe they are set on a timer.

 If tens of holes were suddenly blown in Meropide's outer walls, even I couldn't be confident to seal them all before water flooded the fortress.

 Hmm...

 For the life of me, I can't make sense of this man's motive.

 For a man with his circumstances to do something so drastic...

 It doesn't make sense.

 I had to approach the group. I had to talk to the man in question and hopefully figure out the size of this scheme.

 But I couldn't just walk over from this side. That would draw attention this way and likely reveal the stairs.

 Behind me, I could see the guards bringing inmate after inmate down the stairs.

 Those who had not joined the commotion could now be evacuated and I wasn't going to sabotage this opportunity.

 As such, I teleported to the other side, just out of the sight of the group, and listened.

 "Stop!"

 "You cannot do this!"

 "You'll kill yourself! You'll kill us all!"

 After the angry shouts came a voice shaking with fear.

 "Don-don't move! Nobody moves! If any of you move I-I'll blow this thing to pieces!"

 The man holding the detonator and shouting threats was afraid.

 He was utterly terrified and shaking so much that he barely managed to stand.

 Why?

 If he's this afraid why do this?

 Or perhaps...

 Was he forced into this?

 That would explain some things, but not all.

 The sound of my footsteps as I stepped out of my spot cut through the silence that had fallen after the man's threats.

 "Neu-Neuvillette?"

 "The Iudex?"

 "What is the Chief Justice doing here?"

 They all took a step back, standing some distance away from me as I approached.

 I walked all the way to the edge before stopping to look up at the man standing on one of the lamps under the rigged valve.

 "Is this really necessary?"

 "Y-yes. Yes, it is?"

 He seemed to have composed himself somewhat, but the shaking of his hands still didn't stop.

 "Just what is it that you wish for so urgently that you'd resort to this?"

 "What do you known, Monsieur Neuvillette? You probably don't even know-"

 "Terrance Lemair. Sentenced to 4 years in prison for smuggling explosives into Fontaine. Your sentence was handed out exactly a week ago at 18:37 by Lady Furina herself inside the Opera Eclipse."

 "How-"

 "I can connect a crime and the exact length of sentence to each and every person sentenced to stay within the walls of this fortress."

 Aside from that...

 "I also know that you have a child."

 He flinched as panic filled his whole being.

 "A daughter, merely five years old."

 That is why I cannot fathom why he's doing this.

 "While four years isn't a short time, after those four years your daughter would have her father back. Why take the risk and do this when it could only earn you a longer sentence? Why risk leaving your daughter orphaned after your death should you push that button?"

 After my last question, he finally broke down.

 He collapsed, his legs giving out.

 While he didn't say it loudly, I could still hear his desperate and broken mumbles.

 "They have her... They have my baby girl..."