The following dawn was red.Not with fire — but with memory.
Over the northern horizon, the sun rose behind clouds etched with faint symbols — runes older than language, pulsing like veins of light across the heavens. The air trembled with a power that made even beasts fall silent.
Lyn watched it from the cliffs overlooking the shattered valley, cloak whipping against the cold wind. The mark on his chest pulsed faintly with each beat of the runes above.
Rhea stood a few paces behind him, her expression tight with worry. "Those symbols… they've been spreading since the Judge appeared."
"They're laws," Lyn murmured. "The divine kind. The gods are rewriting them."
Umbra appeared beside him, shadow rippling along the stones. —They're closing the world. The divine network is reawakening. If they finish rewriting the Laws, no mortal bond will function. No spirit. No rebellion.
Lyn's gaze hardened. "Then we stop them before they finish."
Rhea frowned. "Stop the gods? Lyn, you're powerful — but you're not—"
"Not one of them?" Lyn turned slightly, his golden eye glinting. "Then it's time I reminded them what they left behind."
Before Rhea could respond, the wind shifted — heavy with the metallic taste of mana. The runes in the sky shimmered, rearranging themselves into three concentric circles.
And then — light descended.
Three figures emerged from the horizon, each cloaked in divine radiance, each carrying a staff carved with runes that pulsed with authority.
Umbra growled low. —Judicators.
They landed upon the cliff like falling stars. The air bent around them.
The central figure stepped forward, face obscured by a silver helm. "Lyn of the Broken Crest," it intoned, voice deep and ancient. "Bearer of the Third Seal. You have violated the Covenant of the Seven Bonds."
Lyn's hand moved to his chest. "If you mean I freed a dying god from its cage, then yes."
The right Judicator raised his staff. "The Seals were never meant to be freed. You have become a paradox — man and Seal both. By divine law, existence rejects you."
Rhea took a step forward. "And yet he still stands! The world hasn't rejected him — you have!"
The left Judicator's tone was calm, but laced with disdain. "You speak of balance, mortal. You understand nothing of it. The Seals bind chaos — and chaos, left unchecked, devours everything."
Lyn's gaze never faltered. "Then maybe it's time the world remembered what chaos feels like."
The central Judicator's staff struck the ground — light erupted outward, forming a dome of golden radiance around the cliff. Within it, the air thickened with divine energy.
"Then let this place serve as your trial."
Chains of light coiled from the air, encircling Lyn's limbs, digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth, his crest blazing in resistance.
Umbra lunged, wings slicing through the light — but the chains reformed instantly, humming with divine precision.
Rhea drew her dagger, runes igniting across its blade. "You'll have to kill me before you take him!"
The right Judicator turned toward her. "Then so be it."
Light spears formed, aimed directly at her chest.
Lyn's eyes snapped open — golden and furious. "Enough."
The mark on his chest exploded in radiance, and the chains shattered like glass. Shadows burst outward, forming spectral wings that filled the dome with dark flame. The Judicators staggered back, their divine auras flickering.
"You speak of Law," Lyn said, voice resonant with both mortal rage and divine command, "but all I see are cowards hiding behind rules you barely understand."
He raised his hand. The broken chains around him reformed — now black and gold — twisting like living serpents.
"You claim balance?" His voice rose. "Then let balance judge you."
He hurled the chains forward. They struck the Judicators' barrier — and instead of breaking, the light folded. The world shimmered — sky, ground, and divine law — and suddenly, the dome reversed.
Now the Judicators were bound within their own prison.
The central one struggled. "Impossible— this power— it's rewriting the Law itself!"
Lyn stepped closer, shadows flickering across his face. "No. It's remembering it. You gods forgot the laws you wrote. I'm just reminding them who they were made for."
With a wave of his hand, the dome shattered. Light scattered across the sky like fragments of sun. The Judicators were gone — banished, or perhaps retreated into the folds of divinity.
The cliff fell silent again.
Rhea sank to her knees, trembling. "You… just broke divine law."
Lyn exhaled slowly. "No." He looked at his palm, where faint golden runes burned across his skin. "I rewrote it."
Umbra's voice was soft, almost wary. —You're becoming something they can't control.
"Good." Lyn turned toward the horizon, where the runes in the sky began to dim. "Because control is exactly what I'm ending."
The wind picked up again, carrying with it the faintest whisper — not from the gods, but from the Seals themselves.
"Remember us."
Lyn closed his eyes. "I will."
And as the first light of morning touched the shattered valley, the rebellion against heaven truly began.