The silence after judgment did not last.
Aric felt it before anyone else noticed—the subtle shift in the air, the way the horizon seemed to bend ever so slightly, like a scar reopening. It wasn't the oppressive weight of demons, nor the cold scrutiny of the Watcher.
This was… memory.
The resistance camp stirred as scouts returned earlier than expected, breathless, eyes wide.
"Southwest ruins," one said. "Something's wrong. The demons there—what's left of them—they're not attacking. They're kneeling."
That got everyone's attention.
Rhel turned to Aric slowly. "They're doing what?"
"Kneeling," the scout repeated. "Like they're… afraid."
Aric closed his eyes for a moment. The Sorrow System responded—not with hunger, not with excitement, but with recognition.
Judgment leaves echoes.
He stood. "Show me."
They reached the ruins by midday. Cracked stone spires jutted from the earth like broken teeth, and between them, demons—lesser ones, twisted and malformed—were gathered in uneasy stillness. As Aric stepped into view, every single one recoiled.
Then, as if obeying a silent command, they lowered themselves.
The resistance fighters froze.
Lyra whispered, "Aric…"
"I didn't command this," he said quietly.
One of the demons raised its head, eyes trembling with terror and something like reverence.
"Judged one," it rasped. "Spare us."
Aric felt it then—the truth the Watcher had never spoken aloud.
Judgment was not just power.
It was influence.
What he had done had rewritten how the world perceived him—not as prey, not even as a hunter, but as an outcome. An ending.
And endings scared everything.
"Leave," Aric said.
The demons fled instantly, scattering into the ruins, vanishing into cracks and shadows. No pursuit followed.
The resistance was silent.
"That's not normal," Rhel finally said.
"No," Aric agreed. "It's a problem."
That night, the Sorrow System spoke again, brief and unembellished.
Warning
Judgment Resonance Detected
World Reaction: Escalating
Consequence: Power will attract entities beyond demon hierarchy.
Aric stared into the firelight, Lyra beside him, the camp uneasy around them.
"So what now?" she asked.
He looked up at the darkened sky, where stars flickered like watching eyes.
"Now," he said, voice steady, "we move forward before the world decides to test me again."
Far away, something ancient shifted—something that did not kneel.
And for the first time since gaining the Sorrow System, Aric felt a different kind of fear.
Not of losing control.
But of being needed too much.