"Please stay calm. The situation is under control."
The crowd answered with a rising tide of panic. Someone had accused a man of cheating; he stood on a rooftop with the woman at his side, threatening to hurl her off if she did not confess. Below, voices called up, trying to reason with him.
"Sir — we're civilized. This belongs in a court, not the ledge. Come down."
"Nah. You're lying. You'll kill me the moment I step off," he shouted back.
"You call the heroes liars?" another voice demanded.
"No—no, that's not what I meant."
"You do know," someone warned, "if you don't bring her down soon, even if you're innocent of the claim, you'll be guilty of assault."
"...Oh." The man's tone shifted; the threat of a different punishment made him reconsider.
Slowly, he descended with the woman. At once the heroes moved in and bound them both. The woman protested their right to arrest her, but her complaints were swallowed by the crowd and ignored. They were led away.
The "court" they faced was little more than an empty, echoing chamber. Their wrists and ankles were shackled; they knelt with heads held high by men whose hands were iron. At the front of the room stood a man in a long dark-blue coat and matching trousers. His white hair fell like silk to his shoulders; his eyes spoke calm as the light shines on his brightly blue iris. His voice was soft as wind, but it carried like thunder.
"What crimes have these unrighteous committed?" he asked.
"They stand trial under case 2 sir," one of the guards replied.
He replied. "I see. Kill them both—him for assault, her for false accusation."
With a motion as casual as closing a ledger, he turned and left. The guards obeyed.
A hand pressed against each of the accused; then a terrible, swift force ripped flesh from bone. Heads came free in a crimson spray. The court room soaked in silence, broken only by the wet thud of bodies collapsing.
The crowd returned afterward to find nothing to explain what had happened. No trial records, no appeals, no witnesses who could speak past the fear. For the people, the only lesson was final: when the heroes judged, there was no coming back. Those taken away never returned whole. The rumor spread like cold: in that city, judgment was absolute—and mercy was a myth.