The air in the chamber walls are coated with an grimy perspiration. Today was particularly arduous. The prisoner, a suspected conspirator against the Pharaoh, was brought in at dawn. His eyes darted around, taking in the cold stone walls and the iron instruments that lined them. I could see the resistance in his eyes, a resistance I knew I had to break.

The torches flickered, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. This was my duty, unpleasant though it might be. For the good of Khepresh, for the safety of our people, I must extract the truth.

I started with questions, my voice calm and measured. He remained silent, his jaw set in a stubborn line. I signaled to Harim, my assistant, to bring the iron poker closer to the fire. The heat of the chamber began to rise, matching the tension in the room.

He spoke, finally, but his words were lies, and we both knew it. I had no choice but to escalate. The instruments of our trade are many, each designed to pull away layers of deceit. The rack, the thumbscrews, the branding irons. I used them all, with precision and care, pushing him to the brink but never beyond.

His screams echoed off the walls, a grim symphony that reverberated in my bones. I could see the resolve in his eyes waver, then break. He started to talk, to confess, each word spilling out like blood from a wound. Names, dates, plans -- all flowed from him in a torrent.

By midday, he was a broken man, slumped in his chains, his spirit shattered. I left him to Harim, who would see to his wounds and ensure he was well enough to endure another session if necessary. I stepped out of the chamber, the cool air of the corridor a stark contrast to the heat within.

I paused, leaning against the wall, the weight of my role heavy on my shoulders. These men, these traitors -- they threaten everything we have built. The peace, the prosperity of Ankrahmun. Yet, as I looked back at the closed door of the interrogation chamber, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the man within. He was someone's son, perhaps someone's father.

In the end, we are all bound by duty. Mine is a dark burden, but it is a necessary one. For the glory of Khepresh, I will continue. I will bear this burden, so that our people may live free of fear, secure in the knowledge that the enemies of the Pharaoh will be found and brought to justice.

Tonight, I will wash the blood from my hands and seek solace in the gods. They know the weight I carry, and I pray they grant me the strength to continue. For tomorrow, another prisoner will be brought before me, and the cycle will begin anew.

Senu