The accusation, when it came, was not a shout but a venomous whisper. One of the Council members, a zealot known for his unwavering commitment to the Gospel of Silence, was accused of being the Weaver. The evidence was flimsy, a string of coincidences and misinterpreted gestures, but in the suffocating atmosphere of the Council chamber, it was enough. The accused was not allowed to speak, his silence, once a virtue, now twisted into an admission of guilt. He was cast out, not with a formal decree, but with the cold, unified stare of his former colleagues. The snake had taken its first bite.