Judge rose slowly. His body moved on instinct, dragging his thoughts along behind it. Clio stood with him, close enough that he could feel the hum of her presence without looking.
Then, the memories arrived.
They didn't come as clear images or neat recollections. They hit him as sensations—familiar aches, ancient comforts, and fears that no longer belonged to a single name. They came unbidden, overlapping and indistinct, lives bleeding into one another without borders.
He didn't flinch. He didn't try to cage them behind reason or push them away. There was no instinct to deny the flood, because the moment for disbelief had already passed.
