Silence fell.
The Judge smirked, an expression that made the shadows around him twist like living things. The slaves' lifeless eyes widened, shock and petty delight mingling in their gaze. Sylphia froze, her mouth open, tears sliding down her cheeks. She tried to resist the horror, but in this court, injustice was palpable.
Sammail stared at the bloodstained floor, colorless tears spilling. His chest heaved, but he couldn't lift his head. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the chains around him loosened, bit by bit… until they vanished. Yet he didn't notice. Freedom meant nothing here.
The Judge's laughter shattered the silence—wet, smug, deliberate. The slaves laughed too, forced by his presence, their voices tearing from their throats. Sylphia resisted for seconds—only seconds—before she broke. Her nails tore at her neck. Her hands fell limp. She broke.
"So that's why you're genderless?" the Judge asked lazily. The court erupted in cruel laughter.
He stepped closer. "So that's why you couldn't look at the defiled slaves. Why you tried to turn that child into a monster… so he could die trying."
He laughed again. And again.
Sammail's body trembled. Tears flowed freely. His mouth opened, but no words came.
The Judge lifted Sammail's chin gently. Their eyes met. Broken eyes—bleeding, drowned in despair. Proud eyes—amused, absolute.
"You know what's ironic about your suffering?" the Judge whispered, licking Sammail's chin. "That it's all on you."
The laughter swelled around him, suffocating, maddening.
"Just… kill me," Sammail murmured, voice hollow, shaking.
The Judge tilted his head. "Raise your voice, child. I can't hear you with all this noise."
Sammail screamed, gripping the Judge's shoulders. "Kill me already!"
"Didn't you want to kill me minutes ago?" the Judge mocked. "Now you want to die?" The laughter grew louder. He pointed at his own chest. "Come. What's wrong, Sammail?"
Dead eyes. Trembling body. A burning chest. A soul screaming itself apart.
"Don't you want to kill him?" the Dark God whispered inside his head.
"It doesn't matter anymore," Sammail whispered back. "A poor excuse for a fallen human… can't kill that monster."
The Judge sighed theatrically. "You disappoint me, Sammail. Truly." He shifted his gaze to Sylphia. His smile widened.
"But her, on the other hand—"
"No. No. No." Sammail whispered, panic choking him.
The Judge approached Sylphia's trembling body. She laughed—forced, broken—while shaking uncontrollably. "Her life will end as it was always meant to," he said softly, touching her cheek. "Tortured. Like the slaves your mother condemned alongside me."
"Wait—no!" Sammail screamed. "Her life is mine! She's a fallen angel now!"
The Judge laughed. "Nothing belongs to you, Sammail. Besides, she's a mongrel. Beyond heaven. Beyond hell. Thanks to you."
Sammail collapsed to his knees.
"I'll do anything. Please. Let her go."
The Judge considered. "Very well. Her life… in exchange for every slave here dying in her place."
Sylphia tried to scream. Nothing came out.
"Sure," Sammail said instantly. "Kill them but spare her."
The Judge's eyes ignited like wildfire. He struck Sylphia, sending her body flying. Blood splattered across Sammail's face.
"You chose wrong " the Judge said calmly.
"The correct answer was none of them. You just condemned her yourself."
Slaves laughed cruelly. Sylphia's voice returned—but only screams came out.
"How powerless," she thought.
The Judge stepped closer, striking her again. The court's roar, Sylphia's screams, his laughter—everything collided in Sammail's mind.
"Help me," he begged, voice raw. "Please."
Nothing came. He was alone.
A familiar laughter ripped through his skull. Darkness swirled, swallowing him whole. The Judge froze.
The Dark God's voice echoed. "Do you wish to kill them all, my friend?"
"Yes!" Sammail screamed, tears streaming, rage and despair blinding him.
"There is a price," the voice warned.
"I don't care."
Pain tore through him. Darkness erupted outward, cracking the very court. Slaves rotted where they stood. The child rose, roaring. Sylphia's wounds dissolved into shadow. Her eyes burned crimson.
The Judge trembled.
"This is impossible—"
A clown laughed quietly from the darkness. "As planned."