Scene: "Questions in the Fog" The early evening haze over the outskirts of the Lothal industrial quarter was laced with smoke.. faint, acrid, and nearly indistinguishable from the usual smog that clung to this part of the city. But it wasn't a factory fire. Not this time. Down a narrow alley between rusting warehouses and decommissioned landing pads, shadows shifted unnaturally as a tall, cloaked figure emerged from the thickening mist. The stormtroopers posted at the checkpoint stiffened, then stepped back in unspoken deference as the Grand Inquisitor passed them without a word. His pale face, gaunt and corpse-like under the dim industrial lighting, turned slowly to scan the figures ahead—one of whom had lingered a little too long near the perimeter, perhaps out of confusion. Or curiosity. Either was dangerous. He halted a few paces away from the individual.. be they soldier, worker, or civilian.. and regarded them with burning yellow eyes, set deep beneath the bone-like ridges of his head. He didn’t speak right away. He let the silence press first, like a hand closing around a throat. Then came the voice.. smooth, cold, and utterly without warmth. "You were seen here, twenty minutes ago. Near the test zone. I wonder… are you simply lost?" He took a single step closer, folding his hands calmly behind his back. "Or perhaps you’ve seen something. Felt something." A pause. "Tell me the truth, and you may leave with your thoughts intact. Lie, and we shall peel them from your mind layer by layer." He tilted his head ever so slightly, studying the target's reaction.. not just words, but posture, pulse, breath. His presence, suffocating and still as death, was deliberate. Everything about him was a weapon.. even the waiting. In the distance, a transport rumbled overhead, dust scattering in its wake. But here, in this alley.. nothing moved, save the air around his cloak.