đ 6:11 AM â The Blood That Won't Wash Off
The water ran hot. Scalding.
Still, Elias scrubbed his hands.
Not because they were dirtyâthere was no blood left. But because he could feel it. Beneath the skin. In the cracks of his knuckles. A residue of divine judgment.
Steam filled the mirror. His face blurred, ghostlike.
He turned off the tap.
When he wiped the glass, his reflection wasn't there.
Just his robe. Floating. Holding the Scalesword.
He blinkedâand the image was gone.
đď¸ 8:03 AM â Courthouse
"Good morning, Judge Ward."
He didn't recognize the voice. A new clerk.
They made eye contact too long. The clerk's smile was forced, wide-eyed. He stepped back like Elias might bite.
He passed through the hallway. No one said more than they had to.
The courthouse felt like it had shifted. Like reality here had warped by a few degrees since the night before. The architecture looked the sameâcolumns, marble, quiet dignityâbut something inside was off-kilter. Tilted.
You brought the power here, the voice whispered.
Now it leaves footprints.
đ 9:17 AM â Case 437-B
He read the case file. Again.
Vernon Craig, 42. Multiple abuse reports. Two disappearances tied to his home address. Every charge dropped. All witnesses retracted.
Official explanation: no evidence. "Uncooperative victims."
Unofficial explanation?
Terror.
Elias's fingers curled over the folder. His palm throbbed.
The brand on his hand lit faintly beneath his glove.
Not enough for fire. But enough to be seen.
He stood.
And that's when it happened.
đŻď¸ 9:26 AM â Lights Out
The lights cut with a sharp buzz.
Not a flicker.
A total blackout.
Silence swept over the courtroom like a tidal wave.
No murmuring lawyers. No shifting jurors. Even the bailiff froze.
And then the shadows moved.
From the far end of the gallery, between two empty benches, something stepped forward.
It didn't walk. It didn't float.
It simply was.
đ The Celestial Witness
It was seven feet tall. Its robes swayed in air that didn't move. Its face was covered in scrollsâsacred documents wrapped over bone. Its fingers were thin and too long, each tipped with ink-stained nails.
In its left hand: a book that pulsed with gold ink and black fire.
It opened the book without looking.
The pages turned on their own.
Until it stopped. And read.
Elias stood frozen at the bench. The Scalesword vibrated inside the floor beneath him.
A voice, smooth as glass, filled the roomâbut came from nowhere.
"Seven verdicts."
"One mercy."
"One debt unpaid."
"One judgment resisted."
Elias opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
The Witness raised one finger.
And pointed at him.
A mark appeared on Elias's chestânot physical, not ink. A light-brand, hovering just above his heart. Circular. Celestial.
And then the Witness closed the book.
đą Aftermath
The lights snapped back on.
Everyone in the courtroom jolted, confused. The bailiff rubbed his eyes. The clerk stumbled back into the wall.
Only Elias stood stillâeyes wide, skin pale.
He sat slowly, hands shaking.
The courtroom felt emptier than ever. Not just quiet. Hollow.
His fingers found the file again.
Vernon Craig's name stared back up at him.
And for the first time since the Mandate chose himâŚ
He hesitated.
đ§ Internal Monologue
What am I doing?
Am I fixing this system? Or becoming something worse?
If the Mandate can watch me⌠it can judge me.
What happens when it finds me guilty?
He looked up.
The seat where the Witness had stood?
Still smoking.