Cold stone pressed against Kairav's cheek.
It was the first thing he noticed—hard, unforgiving, real.
His fingers twitched. Sensation returned in fragments, sharp and disorienting. The ache in his chest faded slowly, replaced by a dull, persistent weight that reminded him he was alive.
Alive.
The realization struck him harder than pain ever could.
He pushed himself upright, coughing as dust filled his lungs. Each breath burned slightly, scraping his throat as if the air itself was testing whether he deserved it. The ground beneath him was cracked and uneven, etched with faint symbols worn smooth by time. Whatever place this was, it had not been built for comfort—or mercy.
Around him, the world moved on.
Wind brushed past dry grass. Leaves rustled somewhere overhead. Life continued, indifferent to his confusion.
A bell rang again—closer now. Footsteps followed, measured and unhurried.
Kairav froze.
Voices drifted through the air. Calm. Routine. Casual, even.
No panic.
No urgency.
No chaos.
No one searching for a man who had just died.
He stood slowly, brushing dirt from his clothes. They were unfamiliar—coarse fabric, simple stitching, worn thin from use. Nothing from the life he remembered. Nothing from offices, files, and endless paperwork.
So this is it, he thought. Another world.
A translucent blue screen flickered into existence before his eyes, hovering silently in the air.
[System Notice]
Judgment Protocol: Active
Identity: Kairav
Status: Reincarnated
Evaluation: Incomplete
His breath steadied despite himself.
"So you're real," he said quietly, testing the words.
The screen did not respond.
Instead, more text appeared, each word sharp and deliberate.
[Core Principle]
Mercy is a reward.
Survival is earned.
Kairav's jaw tightened.
In his previous life, he had followed rules. Filled forms. Obeyed systems that claimed neutrality while quietly crushing people beneath them. He had watched injustice happen in silence, convincing himself that staying uninvolved made him clean.
And in the end—
None of it had mattered.
"If this world judges," he murmured, eyes narrowing, "then it should be prepared to be judged back."
The screen pulsed once, as if acknowledging the statement.
[First Trial Assigned]
Location: Border Settlement – Vale District
Objective: Live
Failure: Death
The screen vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
No instructions.
No guidance.
No mercy.
Kairav exhaled slowly.
A laugh escaped him—low, humorless, edged with disbelief.
"So that's how you want to play."
From the edge of the clearing, a figure appeared. Then another. Armed men in dull armor moved through the trees with practiced ease, their expressions bored rather than hostile. They looked like soldiers who had seen too much to be impressed by survival.
One of them glanced at Kairav briefly, eyes passing over him without interest.
"Another stray," the man said. "Leave him. If he survives the night, he's worth something."
"And if he doesn't?" another voice asked.
"Then he wasn't."
They walked past him.
Just like that.
No help.
No warning.
No explanation.
Kairav watched them disappear between the trees.
Something settled deep inside his chest—not fear, not anger.
Clarity.
This world did not care if he lived.
There would be no saviors. No second chances wrapped in kindness. Survival would not come from hope or fairness.
It would come from choice.
From action.
From refusing to be overlooked.
He turned toward the distant settlement visible beyond the clearing. Smoke rose faintly into the sky, thin and pale. Signs of life. Signs of people who endured.
Kairav straightened his posture, forcing strength into his limbs.
If judgment was inevitable—
Then he would be the one who mastered it.