Nick Waters, a former British Army officer who analyzed the footage for Bellingcat, told RFE/RL he was "confident" the video is "authentic" proof of a war crime.

"There is nothing in the videos which suggests they are faked or staged," Waters told RFE/RL. "The locations are consistent with where the fighting has been happening. The actions taken within the video are consistent with the descriptions in the video, and the execution video itself is entirely consistent with two people being shot."

Waters says one "significant" indication that Azerbaijani troops carried out the killings is a military helmet worn by a soldier seen during the capture of the victims.

"That type of helmet with a raised cut above the ears is very distinctive," Waters explained. "It's not a helmet that is used by normal Azerbaijani armed forces. However, we have seen it used by Azerbaijani special forces."

"We only see one person wearing it in this footage. However, that is still a really interesting data point about, potentially, who carried out these actions," Waters said.

In the execution footage, a voice speaking Azeri in a distinct regional accent can also be heard giving the firing squad a command to "shoot at their heads."

Tatoian says he has shared the evidence with the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, the Council of Europe, and other international organizations.

A spokesperson for Dunja Mijatovic, the Council of Europe's commissioner for human rights, confirmed receiving the materials.

She said Mijatovic was "closely following the situation" and will "look into all allegations of grave human rights violations and take action when she deems appropriate."

Artak Beglarian, Nagorno-Karabakh's human rights ombudsman in Stepanakert, told RFE/RL he also has sent "closed files" about the case to investigators at Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch.

But it has not yet been possible for independent investigators to enter Hadrut -- which has remained under the control of Azerbaijani forces since the video first appeared on Telegram.

Waters said identifying "the perpetrators involved" in the killings would be the next step for any war crimes investigation.

Civilians, Not Soldiers

Karamian scoffed at media reports that described Hakobian and Adamian as "captured prisoners of war" from Nagorno-Karabakh's ethnic Armenian defense forces.

She said Hakobian and his wife Yelena had lived in Baku during Soviet times but fled to Hadrut in the early 1990s to escape violence targeting ethnic Armenians in the Azerbaijani capital.

They were given a small house on the grounds of a former Soviet agricultural cooperative in Hadrut’s northern district, informally known as Chobanstroy.

Karamian said that, at one time, when livestock were kept in Hadrut, Hakobian had been a shepherd.

"When there were no herds left in the town, he found other jobs to earn a living," she said. "It was mainly farming in people's gardens, but also unloading items for shops and materials for the construction of people's houses."

Hakobian had recently suffered a stroke and had difficulty performing physical labor, she said, insisting he was in no condition to fight as a soldier.

"I saw them speaking about him as if he was a military man because he was in camouflage," Karamian said. "But Benik has been in those clothes all his life. In Artsakh [Nagorno-Karabakh] almost everyone walks around in such clothes. That does not mean anything."

"I knew Benik well," Karamian continued. "Almost the whole of Hadrut knew him well because he was a day worker and worked in almost everyone's houses and yards. Benik was a harmless, kind, ordinary worker."

After fighting broke out near the town on September 27 and many of Hadrut's 3,000 ethnic Armenian residents fled, Hakobian lost his livelihood.

Karamian said Hakobian spent the last two weeks of his life unloading trucks carrying food supplies from Stepanakert to a community distribution point at Hadrut's House of Culture.

She insisted Adamian was also not a soldier, though she said she did see him carrying a gun after September 27 when he'd been mobilized as part of the local MOB public security police force.

Adamian had also helped Hakobian unload supplies at the House of Culture, she said.

"I have seen both of them doing that work several times," she said. "The last time, if I am not mistaken, was on October 6-7."

Fleeing From A Frontline Town

When the war began on September 27, Karamian said she couldn't imagine she would soon become a refugee in Yerevan.

She had lived in Hadrut her whole life, even through the war in the early 1990s when she'd headed a secret unit in the Hadrut Regiment of Nagorno-Karabakh’s ethnic Armenian forces.

But when the latest fighting broke out and she saw formations of Azerbaijani drones "darken the sky" over the breakaway region's southeastern flank, she sent her children away and prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

She stayed alone at her home for more than a week, preparing food that she delivered to the local hospital in Hadrut and to ethnic Armenian soldiers on the front line -- including her husband and son.