The days that followed blurred together in shadows of mourning. The Sorelle estate, usually alive with gatherings and political maneuvering, had become a house of silence. Marcellan spoke little, his grief hollowing him to little more than nods and gestures. Yet in that grief, he had taken a decisive step. He had withdrawn his candidacy and thrown his full weight behind Dominic.
Outside the estate, however, silence did not reign. A crowd had gathered, angry, mourning, desperate to be heard. They filled the street in their thousands, banners lifted high, voices restless with questions that had no easy answers. They wanted a symbol, a voice.
The great doors opened.
Loria stepped out first, her hand visibly trembling until Dominic's slipped into hers. They walked down the steps together, hand in hand. The crowd roared, and then fell to a hush, expectant.
Dominic's voice rose into that hush, steady and clear. "You ask why this has happened. You demand to know why our Senate was attacked, why families must bleed in its corridors. The answer is corruption. Corruption in the Senate. Corruption that festered so long it invited rot and ruin into our very heart. Do not mistake this tragedy as misfortune alone. It was made possible by those who profit from decay."
Each word drew the crowd closer. Faces lifted, fists clenched. His voice climbed. "I promise my life to this fight. I chose this path because I believe Naboo deserves better. And now...now more than ever...we must demand it. We must not only survive corruption. We must tear it out by the roots. Now is a time to take action! A time for change! A time for someone that knows the sting of corruption's betrayal first hand. Together...House Sorelle...and House Praxon...we pledge to fight for the people of Naboo!"
The crowd erupted, the chant of his name echoing like thunder through the square. Dominic stood tall, one fist raised, the other still clasping Loria's. In that moment, he was no longer the failing candidate scrambling for relevance. He was a voice the people would follow.
Later, when the noise had faded and the doors closed behind them, the estate returned to quiet. Marcellan sat in his grief, Loria close by. Dominic, with the faintest motion, tapped his datapad. The numbers glowed: 63% to 37%, his lead secured even before the speech.
He set the datapad down without a word. His gaze lingered on the family around him, the house draped in mourning. And as he turned away, a soft smile curved his lips...hidden from those within the room, a private acknowledgment of the power he had just claimed.
