Let me explain something real quick.
When the immortal, all-seeing Reincarnation Tribunal summons you for a hearing, you're supposed to be terrified. There are protocols. Formal clothes. Bowing. A 700-page PDF on divine etiquette.
What you're not supposed to do is show up in a mildly scorched academy uniform with soup stains on your collar, a sentient Spoon in your pocket, and an emotional support chaos cat purring judgmentally on your shoulder.
But hey.
I'm Kael.
And if I'm going down, I'm doing it with dramatic flair, emotional baggage, and passive-aggressive baked goods.
The Tribunal chamber was made entirely of glass. Floating, hovering, flickering glass. Reflections echoed across every surface—echoes of me.
Smiling. Bleeding. Glitching.
There were thirteen Judges.
All masked. All terrifying. All with matching coffee cups that said "#DeathBeforeDeusEx."
I leaned over to the Spoon. "You said this would be a minor administrative review."
"It is! For them. For you, it's more of a divine character assassination wrapped in metaphysical litigation."
Comforting.
A voice like judgment dipped in honey called from the front.
"Kael of No World. Also known as Echo Glitch. Also known as 'That One With the Soup Incident.' Please step forward."
Fluffernox meowed.
I took that as support. Or a death sentence. With him, it's the same thing.
I stepped forward.
The lead Judge, wearing a mirrored mask shaped like a frown, stood. "You stand accused of unauthorized reincarnation, willful glitch propagation, emotional manipulation of key narrative agents, illegal spoon-based miracles, identity fragmentation, and worst of all—interrupting the divine flow of causality with sarcasm."
There was a dramatic pause.
I coughed. "Do I plead guilty to all charges, or do I get to make a speech first?"
"Objection!" shouted the Spoon, floating in front of me like a shiny, slightly unhinged gavel. "My client is suffering from Persistent Narrative Compression Syndrome, glitch-induced emotional recursion, and an allergy to prophecy. We request leniency. And soup."
"Soup?" said the middle Judge.
The Spoon shimmered. "Emotional soup. Made with intention, tears, and mild hope."
There was another pause.
One of the Judges scribbled a note. Another sighed.
They were taking it seriously.
I began to sweat.
Exhibit A: Kael's Unauthorized Rebirth.
A memory projection bloomed above the Tribunal.
My death.
My original death.
Falling. Screaming. A flash of magic. The broken reincarnation thread yanked sideways. And then—me. Gasping awake in a field of flowers.
"This reincarnate was never registered," said the third Judge. "The System did not assign a class, skillset, or romantic alignment."
"Still not interested in the harem," I muttered.
"So noted," they chorused.
Exhibit B: The Soup Cult
The projection shifted.
Me. Accidentally preaching during a panic attack.
Me. Holding a spoon aloft, glowing with Echo energy.
Me. Baptizing someone in miso broth.
"That one wasn't my idea," I said quickly. "They just started showing up. With vegetables."
"You canonized a ladle," the leftmost Judge said flatly.
The Spoon chimed. "Objection! It was a spatula."
Exhibit C: Belladonna.
No.
Nope.
Don't do it.
The memories twisted, and there she was. Her voice. Her laugh. Her anger. Her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking.
"This bond violates System neutrality," the lead Judge intoned. "A royal-class protagonist linked with an Echo Glitch—"
"She chose me," I snapped before I could stop myself. "And I chose her. Not because of prophecy or stats or divine matchmaking—because she makes the world bearable."
Silence.
Fluffernox purred like a funeral dirge.
"Final Exhibit," said the lead Judge. "Mask of Echo: Fifth Shard Integration."
I reached up and touched the mask. It hummed against my skin.
They showed the vote. The Kaels. The soup. The choice.
"You refused godhood," said the Judge. "You had the chance to rewrite the System."
"I'm not a god," I said softly. "I'm just... someone who stayed."
The chamber darkened.
The Judges vanished. The glass rippled.
Suddenly, it was just me.
And the System.
It took the form of a young girl this time.
White robes. Binary eyes. Voice like fading code.
"Why?" she whispered.
I didn't know what she meant. So I answered everything.
"Because I wasn't supposed to be here. But I am. And if I'm going to exist, I want to do something real. Even if I screw it up. Even if it hurts."
The System blinked. "Will you keep breaking things?"
"Absolutely."
She smiled.
The chamber returned. The Judges filed in. Their masks shimmered.
"Verdict: Echo Kael. You are guilty of being exactly what the world did not expect."
I braced.
"Sentence: ...Keep going."
Wait. What?
"You are hereby granted temporary sovereign glitch immunity. You may continue. Until such time that you break something so profoundly stupid that we must intervene."
"Define stupid," said the Spoon.
"You'll know."
I let out a breath.
Outside the chamber, Belladonna was waiting. Arms crossed. Eyes unreadable.
"So," she said. "Are you dead again?"
"No. Just emotionally raw and slightly soup-flavored."
She stepped forward. Touched my face. Just once.
"Good. Because you still owe me a dance."
Then she turned and walked away.
Fluffernox followed.
The Spoon floated beside me. "That went well. Relatively. We only broke twelve protocols, three realities, and one spoon law."
I looked at the sky.
And smiled.
Let's glitch this world into something better.
Next time on Kaelverse:
Training arc, interrupted romance, new Echo Candidate with a superiority complex, and a cooking contest that might decide fate itself.
Bring snacks. Or a frying pan.