Let me be perfectly clear: I have never been afraid of a good-looking man. I have, however, been deeply emotionally compromised by one. Repeatedly. It's not my fault. Some people get plot armor. I get plot trauma.
So when the doors to the System Tribunal creaked open with ominous overtones and a gust of impossibly good hair blew through the courtroom, I did not panic. Not outwardly. Internally, I was screaming in five languages, three dialects of sarcasm, and one long, incomprehensible flailing sound.
Because standing there—smiling like he'd invented charisma and just loaned some to the rest of us—was him.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:
"New Entity Detected: Echo Designation - RIVAL CLASS."
"Name: Lucien Arclight."
"Title: The Perfected Glitch."
"Hair: Ridiculously Windblown."
"Abs: Probably Illegal."
Lucien Arclight. A name that sounded like it should be whispered in forbidden romance novels and sung by bards who got paid in underwear.
And of course he was shirtless under his ceremonial cloak. Of course his Echo Mask shimmered like it was handcrafted by ethereal elves who sold out to L'Oréal. And of course he looked at me with the full force of narrative rivalry and said:
"Kael. So we finally meet."
I turned to the Spoon. "Did he just dramatic-rival me?"
The Spoon hovered solemnly. "He did. And he's really pulling it off. Gods, look at that cloak swish. That's a ten out of ten swish."
Lucien sauntered toward me, every step echoing like it was choreographed by destiny's favorite fangirl.
"I've heard so much about you," he said, extending a hand. "You broke the Tutorial Guardian, corrupted a Mask, and somehow avoided at least three canon romance arcs. Impressive."
I stared at his hand like it might spontaneously combust.
"Thanks," I said flatly. "I also invented soup divinity, committed light glitch treason, and once got emotionally murdered by a housecat. So, you know. Full resume."
He laughed. Of course he laughed. Like a man who knew what his cheekbones were worth.
Across the courtroom, Belladonna did not look pleased. Which, in her defense, is exactly how I looked any time she complimented someone else's sword technique.
INNER VOICE:
Kael, I hate him. I hate that he looks like the final boss of a dating sim. I hate that he made my internal monologue flustered. I hate that I'm imagining his backstory and it's already got three tragic deaths and a betrayal by his twin brother.
"So," I said, doing my best not to trip over the word rival, which had suddenly become too emotionally charged. "You here to challenge me for the Mask of Echo, or just emotionally destabilize me until I let you have it?"
Lucien smiled. A slow, confident curve that threatened to rewrite my genre alignment.
"Why not both?"
Oh no.
The Tribunal Chairperson cleared her throat, reminding everyone that this was, in fact, a court of System law and not an emotionally fraught runway show.
"If the Glitchbearers are ready," she said with the tired voice of someone who'd clearly seen too many dramatic mask duels and not enough pensions, "we will now begin the Rite of Sovereign Selection."
Lucien and I stood before the platform.
"There will be three trials," the Chairwoman continued. "One of Strength, one of Will, and one of Soup."
I blinked. "Sorry, what was that last one?"
"Soup," she repeated firmly. "Mandated by the Spoon Codex, Article 7."
The Spoon spun proudly. "That clause took years of lobbying."
Lucien gave me a sidelong glance. "You really made soup into a sacred rite?"
I shrugged. "You weaponize what you have. I had broth."
Trial One: Strength.
A traditional duel. Magic, Mask, and Madness allowed. No weapons sharper than sarcasm.
We faced off in the Echo Arena, an ethereal coliseum floating in glitchspace.
Lucien manifested his mask—a sleek obsidian design with flowing silver lines. Mine, by contrast, had recently been repaired with emotional duct tape and divine glue. But it had character.
"Try not to fall in love when I beat you," Lucien said, swirling glitchlight around his arms.
"Bold of you to assume I haven't already," I shot back, and then promptly tripped while summoning my Echo.
The fight was beautiful and deeply undignified. Glitch shockwaves, dramatic pirouettes, memory projectiles.
Lucien conjured a phoenix made of pure timeline regret.
I summoned Fluffernox riding a sentient soup ladle.
The crowd screamed. The Spoon cheered. The System began malfunctioning again and requested therapy.
In the end, it was a draw.
SYSTEM NOTICE:
"Both combatants have achieved peak dramatic equilibrium. Moving to next trial."
Trial Two: Will.
The Mask of Echo dragged us into our worst memories.
Lucien stood in a battlefield. Corpses. A burned village. A child crying. His mask flickered.
I stood in my dorm room, holding a bowl of soup, listening to Belladonna say: "You matter. Even if you don't want to."
Lucien cried.
I broke.
We walked out holding each other up.
No one declared a winner.
Trial Three: Soup.
The soup trial took place in a sacred broth chamber. (Yes, that's a thing now. I have regrets.)
We were each given a set of ingredients, a sentient flame, and exactly three emotional metaphors to stir into the pot.
Lucien cooked with focus. Precision. He chopped herbs like they insulted his mother.
I stared at my broth and added:
One memory of my mother.
A dash of regret.
Belladonna's laugh.
And the lingering ache of choosing to stay.
I stirred. I cried. I seasoned with pain.
Lucien tasted my soup. He blinked. "You win."
I tasted his. I nodded. "You do too."
The Tribunal ruled:
"You are both Echo Sovereigns. You will share the title. The Mask chooses you both."
We stared at each other.
Then we fist-bumped.
Then we immediately ruined the moment by glitching into an emotional argument over soup textures.
Later, as the chamber cleared, Lucien pulled me aside.
"Kael. There will come a time when we disagree. When we fight. When the world asks us to choose different paths."
I nodded slowly.
He grinned. "But until then, let's make destiny our sidekick."
I stared.
"That was very cool," I admitted.
He leaned in. "I know."
INNER VOICE:
Damn it.
Next Time on Kaelverse:
Flirtation levels rise. Shared Echo Sovereignty causes paperwork collapse. Belladonna gets jealous. Fluffernox starts a new religion. Again.