The lights burned down on him. White. Unblinking.
Max stood in the circle. Alone. The paint beneath his boots was scarred with burns, and every mark whispered of someone who hadn't walked out.
Justice stayed outside the line, arms folded, eyes sharp. The cameras on the walls shifted with soft clicks, adjusting, focusing.
Somewhere behind the glass, people were watching. Max could feel them—silent, unseen, judging.
Justice's voice cut through.
"Name."
"Max Hart."
"Not what I asked. Name what you are."
Max stared at him. "Human."
Justice stepped closer, not crossing the line. "Wrong. Try again."
"I said human."
Justice's jaw tightened. "Cursed, human, victim—it doesn't matter what word you pick. You erased Vanity like it was dust. That's not what curses do. That's not what victims do. That's what predators do."
Max's fists curled at his sides. "You want me to call myself a Vice."
Justice's stare didn't waver. "I want you to admit the truth before it burns out of you."
The silence stretched.
Max could hear the hum of the walls. He wondered if the whole room was wired to listen to his heartbeat.
"You've been told you're dangerous," Justice said. "Do you believe it."
Max didn't blink. "Dangerous to who."
Justice almost smiled. "Good question. Answer it."
Max's throat felt dry. "To anyone who tries to chain me."
For the first time, Justice's eyes flickered. The cameras whirred louder, as though leaning in.
Justice began to circle the edge of the ring. His boots clicked on the metal.
"Your team calls you a weapon. Do you like being that."
"No."
"But you still fight when they tell you."
Max's jaw clenched. "I fight because if I don't, people die."
"People still die."
"Less of them."
Justice stopped behind him, voice low. "And when you fight… do you enjoy it."
Max froze. The question pressed into his ribs like a knife.
He thought of fire blooming in his hands. Of shadows recoiling from him. Of the moment everything went quiet except the sound of something breaking.
"I don't," Max said finally.
Justice's tone sharpened. "Lie."
The lights above flared brighter, heat pushing down. The hum in the walls grew louder. Max felt it in his bones, like the room itself was accusing him.
Justice's voice rose. "Admit it. Admit what you are. Admit what you like. You think Loyalty can protect you? That your little team can keep pretending you're one of them? You're fire wrapped in skin, and fire only has one purpose."
Max's chest tightened.
Burn.
The whisper slipped through before he could shut it out.
Justice leaned in, eyes narrowing. He had heard it too—not with his ears, but with the way he studied Max like an open book.
"There it is," Justice said. "The voice. You hear it, don't you."
Max's breath hitched. He forced his face blank. "No."
Justice slammed a fist against the wall. The sound cracked through the room like thunder. "Stop lying!"
The circle glowed faintly under Max's feet, as if feeding on his heartbeat.
Max lifted his head. "And if I don't say it?"
Justice's eyes were cold. "Then we push until your flames say it for you."
For the first time, Max looked up at the black glass beyond Justice. He couldn't see who was watching, but he knew they were there. Silent shapes. Judges in the dark.
He raised his chin. "Then watch closely."
Justice's mouth curved into something between approval and threat.
The lights dimmed, the circle brightened, and the room itself seemed to lean in.
The trial had only begun.
The light hummed overhead, steady and merciless.
Justice's voice carried like it belonged to the room itself.
"Your flames don't behave like the others. You shape them. Control them. You burned Vanity to nothing. You didn't hesitate. That's not survival. That's instinct."
Max didn't look away. "So what. I adapt. That's what they told me to do."
Justice tilted his head. "Adaptation isn't supposed to look like annihilation."
The circle beneath Max's feet pulsed once. He felt it in his ribs, a slow pressure pushing against his chest like a hand squeezing tighter.
He breathed slow. He refused to show strain.
Justice started to walk, slow circles around the line.
"You want to be seen as human, but tell me, Max—what's the first thing you think when you look at people like Samira, Mira, even Loyalty?"
Max didn't answer.
Justice pressed. "Do you see equals, or do you see fuel? Do you measure how much heat they'd give when they burn?"
Max's nails dug into his palms. "Shut up."
Justice smiled faintly. "There it is."
The lights overhead flickered. For half a heartbeat, the glass around the chamber changed.
Max saw faces pressed against it—people he knew, people he didn't. Their eyes were hollow, mouths moving in whispers. When he blinked, they were gone.
Illusions. Or maybe not.
He steadied himself. "Cheap tricks."
Justice's tone was sharp. "The Wing doesn't deal in tricks. Only truth."
Max lifted his chin. "Truth doesn't need cages."
Justice stopped pacing. "Truth needs proof. That's why you're here. Not to be asked what you are, but to prove it."
The circle flared hotter. A thin band of light crawled up his ankles, not burning, but holding, like invisible chains.
Max tested his step forward—his boots didn't move.
Justice's eyes hardened. "The room is alive to your pulse. Lie again, and it will tighten. Keep lying, and it will burn."
Max clenched his jaw. "So you're not here to judge. You're here to push me until I snap."
Justice leaned closer, voice low. "Exactly. Because a Vice can't hide forever."
The silence pressed in, thick as iron.
Behind the glass, Max felt the weight of unseen eyes. Judges. Doctors. Executioners. Waiting to see if he'd burn.
His chest rose and fell steady. He kept his voice flat. "Then let's see how long you can wait."
The circle tightened, heat curling against his skin.
Justice didn't look away. His tone was calm, steady, almost conversational, but every word carried weight.
"Keep resisting, Max. I've got nothing but time, and time always wins. It doesn't rush. It doesn't falter. It just grinds you down, slow, certain, until there's nothing left for to hide."
He folded his arms, settling in like stone.
"So go on. Deny it. Burn quiet. The room, the circle, the eyes behind the glass — they'll all be here, waiting with me."