The System Tribunal looked exactly like what you'd expect if a courtroom had been designed by a divine being who got drunk on prophecy wine and then rage-read Legally Blonde.
Giant floating platforms hovered over an endless void of glitching code. The walls shimmered with celestial spreadsheets. There were glowing archways labeled things like SUBJECTIVE TRUTH REPOSITORY, SARCASM FILTER FAILURE ZONE, and my personal favorite: EXISTENTIAL CONTEMPT BUFFERING…
A twelve-foot-high gavel spun in the air behind a pulsing throne of judgment, currently occupied by a woman who looked like someone had stuffed divine law into a ballgown made of unreadable Terms & Conditions.
She regarded me with the expression of someone who'd once loved a man and then discovered he had 48 hidden emotional subroutines and commitment phobia.
"Subject Kael Reinhardt," she intoned. "You stand accused of the following: Emotional Entropy, System Manipulation, Identity Flux, Prophetic Malpractice, and Unauthorized Narrative Deviations."
(Inner me: That's just my dating history, Your Honor.)
"Do you understand these charges?" she asked.
"Do you understand how weirdly personal that list sounds?" I replied, because my survival instincts have long since given up.
A rumble echoed through the chamber.
"Do not attempt humor as legal defense," the System Judge snapped.
"Have you met me?"
Cue a dozen glowing System Clerks scribbling down glowing notes with quills made of logic. Somewhere in the background, a sentient calendar was quietly weeping over my predicted expiration date.
"Where is your legal representative?" the Judge demanded.
Right on cue, a very fluffy, slightly damp, possibly sentient raccoon-bat-void-gremlin appeared beside me wearing a bowtie and monocle.
"Fluffernox, Esq., at your service," he squeaked. "I object to… uh, existence."
(Inner me: I should've gone to jail. Or back to the harem closet. At least they had tea.)
Dramatic Witness Summons: My Entire Emotional Mess
"Summon the Emotional Witnesses!" barked the System Judge.
The void shimmered.
Out stepped—of course—Seraphina, Belladonna, Mirielle, and Aureline. Each arrived on a glitching platform like emotionally overpowered Sailor Moon avatars.
"Are you kidding me?" I whispered. "You're calling the ex-fiancée squad to testify?"
(Inner me: Don't panic. Just pretend this is all a fever dream caused by cursed cookies.)
"Each of these individuals has suffered emotional instability due to your actions," the Judge declared. "They will now testify to your romantic recklessness."
Fluffernox whispered, "I motion to flee the tribunal."
"Denied," the Judge said.
Belladonna took the stand first, wearing a midnight-black cloak and the look of someone who'd once tried to poison you romantically.
"He told me I deserved to live," she said dramatically, hand to chest. "Then made me cookies. What monster does that?"
"They were frog-shaped," I said weakly.
"You taught me hope. Like an idiot."
Mirielle was next. She shimmered like a soft-focus prophecy commercial.
"He gifted me a rose that whispered destiny," she said dreamily.
"It also whispered 'fiscal responsibility,'" I muttered.
"That was the sexy part."
Seraphina stalked to the platform, looking like a war goddess on break.
"He trained beside me. Bled beside me. Encouraged me to be vulnerable," she growled. "I cried once. In his general direction."
"And I said sorry!" I said. "Multiple times! With emotionally distant muffins!"
Aureline took the stage last, flipping her prophecy book open like a menu of doom.
"Kael is an emotional paradox," she said calmly. "He radiates anti-intimacy energy, yet attracts romantic entanglement like a disaster magnet with eyeliner."
"Why does that sound like a book blurb?"
"I wrote it," she said. "I'm submitting it to your upcoming biography: Yes, I Accidentally Wooed a Cult, But in My Defense, I Was Tired."
Kael's Closing Statement (Which Will Absolutely Not Help)
The Judge turned to me.
"You may now respond."
I stepped forward. Took a breath.
"Your Honor. Ladies. Sentient spreadsheet wall. Fluffernox."
(Fluffernox: "M'lady.")
"I understand that I have… accidentally broken hearts, systems, and possibly a few metaphysical laws. But may I point out—I didn't ask for the emotional attention. Or the divine status. Or the exploding spoon cult."
"Objection!" Fluffernox yelled. "The spoon cult was awesome."
"Overruled," the Judge said dryly.
"I am trying—trying—to survive in a world where the sky talks to me, the System pings me at 3 a.m. with 'emotional update requests,' and half my relationships started with someone trying to stab me or save me."
"Relatable," Belladonna said under her breath.
"I'm not rejecting love," I continued. "I'm just… overwhelmed. I don't know how to be stable when everything around me is glitching. And maybe… just maybe… I want to figure out who I am without being someone else's prophecy."
Silence.
Even the harp from the harem closet didn't dare play a guilt chord.
"Request acknowledged," the System Judge said. "Kael Reinhardt. You are found…"
[STATUS: PENDING]
"What."
"You will undergo one final diagnostic," the Judge declared. "To determine whether you are an Echo, a threat, or something… undefined."
"Great," I said. "Just what I needed. Existential jury duty."
"Take him to the Reflection Core."
The world shimmered.
I was falling again.
Into something deeper.
Darker.
Not just trial by emotion.
Trial by identity.
Next Time on Kaelverse:
Welcome to the Reflection Core.
Where Kael faces… himself.
And unfortunately, inner me is not a fan of current me.
Expect: unhinged self-roasts, glitch spirits with therapy licenses, memory mines, and at least one surprise dance battle.
Bring snacks.
And backup emotional stability.
You'll need it.