Naval's trident dulled, its summoned waters falling inert.
Roman's fists faltered mid-swing, his body-force caught as if shackled.
Roselia gasped, her voice breaking. "I… I can't cast. The law won't allow it."
Milim snarled, energy searing at her fingertips only to gutter out, smothered by decree.
Halreth's armored form advanced, each step perfect, unhurried. The banners of law streamed behind him, filling the sky with a storm of judgment. His voice carried no anger—only inevitability.
"You fractured inevitability. You violated the balance of endings. Thus, your rhythm will be tested. If it falters, it will be silenced."
He raised the gavel again, and a circle of white law erupted beneath Leon's feet. It wasn't an attack—it was a judgment chamber. Every fracture, every echo Leon had carved threatened to collapse inward, sealed by rules older than memory.
