I'd like to formally object to being on trial in a floating courthouse shaped like a spoon.
Let me rephrase.
I'd like to formally object to being the only person on trial in a courthouse shaped like a spoon while the prosecution consists of an angry magical bureaucracy, twelve disembodied Tribunal masks, and the living concept of reincarnation law.
Oh, and my defense attorney is a Spoon.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
"The Tribunal will now hear arguments," boomed the largest of the floating masks, its golden surface shimmering like molten logic. "State your designation, unauthorized reincarnate."
I stood at the defense podium—a pulsing soup bowl-shaped construct surrounded by glitchlight runes and something that may or may not have been prophetic steam.
"I'm Kael," I said. "You know, the guy who didn't ask to be born, didn't mean to glitch your sacred System, and really didn't want a cult."
"You started three," Mask #3 muttered.
"Technically, they started me," I countered.
The courtroom rumbled ominously.
"Objection!" Spoon shouted from the defense bench. "My client is clearly the victim of celestial malpractice and reincarnational fraud."
One of the Tribunal masks snorted. "A divine utensil cannot practice law."
Spoon flicked backward into a double somersault and landed dramatically in a pedestal. "Then consider me a moral consultant with unusually shiny credentials."
"Can we just go back to the part where I didn't want any of this?" I asked.
"Motion denied," said Mask #4. "Begin the case: System v. Kael, the Glitch Sovereign, Unauthorized Reincarnate, and Accidental Prophet of Soup."
Honestly, the worst part was how much of that title felt accurate.
"The System calls its first witness," said the prosecution: a humanoid cluster of floating code segments who introduced themselves as Lawful-Neutral-172.
Fluffernox leapt onto the witness stand before the code segment could float forward.
"I AM THE WITNESS," the cat declared.
Mask #7 tilted. "Is that—?"
"Yes," I said. "That's Fluffernox."
"Certified Saint of the Soup Path," Spoon added, handing Fluffernox a tiny crown.
Fluffernox immediately batted it off and sat in it.
"I was present for approximately 87% of Kael's crimes," the cat began, licking a paw. "Most of them were dumb. Some of them were spicy. One involved pickling the essence of betrayal. I give him a 7/10. Would witness again."
"That's not a testimony," said Lawful-Neutral-172.
"Objection," Spoon said.
"On what grounds?"
"Fluffernox is too divine to be wrong."
The Tribunal deliberated for an awkward moment. Mask #6 twitched.
"We'll allow it," said Mask #1. "Continue, feline entity."
Fluffernox yawned. "Kael didn't break the world. The world broke first. He just... flavored it."
I blinked. "Was that a compliment?"
"It was a culinary metaphor," Fluffernox said, already asleep.
Spoon nodded solemnly. "Rest my case."
"You haven't made your case," the prosecution muttered.
Evidence was presented. Well, "evidence."
A magical memory projection of me accidentally seducing half the Moonlight Ball.
A diagram labeled "How Not to Become a Glitch God" with my face crossed out.
And several glowing scrolls declaring that "Kael has made the System feel things."
"I didn't mean to make the System feel things," I said. "I just wanted to pass Potions class."
"You merged with a memory echo of a dead soup saint and summoned a divine aura shaped like a ladle," said the prosecutor.
"It was midterms!"
Belladonna stood from the audience box. "If you try him for being a glitch, you'll have to try the rest of us. The world isn't consistent anymore—not because Kael broke it, but because it couldn't hold him."
There was a silence.
Then Seraphina stood. "I bear divine witness that Kael has only ever tried to survive."
Mirielle: "I'd like to submit that he's very kissable when panicked."
Spoon raised a hand. "Let the record show that my client does not consent to emotional declarations during legal proceedings."
"I—wait—what?" I sputtered.
"You're doing very well," whispered Belladonna.
"I'm being tried by a floating magical court for existential crime."
She smiled. "Still. Proud of you."
The courtroom dimmed. Mask #1 spoke.
"We will now deliver judgment."
A hush fell over the trial.
"Kael. You are not a chosen one. You were never meant to exist. And yet, here you are. You have warped fate, broken systems, and inspired belief."
"Sounds like a Tuesday," I muttered.
"You are not guilty of breaking the System."
My breath caught.
"Because the System was already broken."
I stared.
Mask #3 continued: "You are, however, responsible for reinterpreting it."
"Oh no."
"Therefore, we grant you a formal title."
I braced for it.
"Kael, you are hereby recognized as: System Variable Prime. A living exception. A conditional clause with a name. You are the rewrite."
I blinked.
"...I'm sorry, am I officially a loophole now?"
"Yes," the Tribunal intoned. "Long may you glitch."
Outside the courthouse, Spoon and I stood in the starlight soup of the in-between plane.
"I'm a legal variable," I said. "A walking rewrite clause."
"And yet," Spoon said solemnly, "you still don't understand women."
Belladonna walked past, brushing my hand.
"I understand that one," I said.
"Do you?" Spoon asked.
No. But maybe I'd try.
Next Time on Kaelverse:
Chapter 92: "Emotional Damage, But Make It Magical (Also There's a Picnic)"