I find myself ensnared in a web of anxiety, a fierce and overwhelming need to defend my honor and my intellect. The urge to rise up, to declare to the assembled masses that I am the true mind behind these ingenious tools—tools that have woven themselves into the very fabric of our everyday existence—consumes me. A heavyweight presses down upon my chest, an immense burden borne by conviction. Yet, before me stands the Duke, a figure of authority and intimidation, wielding accusations as his sharpest sword, claiming that I have pilfered his carpenter’s blueprint. His presence looms large, and he carries with him evidence that appears indisputable, a collection of documents and testimonies that threaten to dismantle the empire of labor and innovation I have painstakingly labored to build.
If
