The night it happened, the city trembled. Clouds gathered low and heavy, their bellies swollen with thunder. The air crackled, alive with a weight that pressed against my chest.
I stumbled through the streets, half drunk, rain soaking my robes until they clung to me like chains. My office felt miles away, yet I could not bear to go there. I wandered instead, past shuttered shops and sleeping dogs, past taverns that spilled laughter into the dark.
I stopped beneath the courthouse steps. Its pillars rose like a temple to false gods, lit by lamps that glowed yellow against the storm. I raised my face to it, water streaming down my skin, and spat.
"Here lies your justice," I shouted into the thunder. "Bought and sold, traded like meat. And you," I raised my fists to the sky, "you watch it rot!"
Lightning split the heavens, white fire tearing the clouds apart. The thunder followed so quickly it shook the stones beneath me. I fell to my knees, my hands pressed into the wet earth.
Then I heard it.
A voice. Not in the air, not in the storm, but inside me. Deep and resonant, as though the bones of my skull carried its echo.
You are heard.
I froze. My breath caught.
The storm thickened. Another flash of lightning, and before me, on the courthouse steps, something appeared. A faint glow, a screen of light suspended in the rain. Words formed across it, burning into my vision:
THE JUDGMENT HAS BEGUN.
Below it, names scrolled in lines of fire. Judges. Lawyers. Politicians. Men and women I had seen laugh while innocence was crushed beneath their verdicts. Each name carried their crime. Bribery. Extortion. Murder veiled as law. The list did not end.
My hands shook as I reached for the light. My fingers passed through it, and yet I felt it, cold and sharp, like touching a blade.
Another line of text burned into view:
You are chosen.
Their fates are yours to decide.
There is no punishment for you.
Only judgment for them.
I staggered back, heart hammering. My lips trembled as I whispered, "Why me?"
The voice thundered again inside my skull.
Because you believed. Because you were broken. Because wrath is the last truth left.
The rain poured harder, the city drowned in the roar of the storm. I stared at the screen as it pulsed in the dark. My breath came ragged, torn between terror and a terrible relief.
And then another line appeared, brighter than all the rest:
First Name: Halden, Judge.
Crime: Sale of verdicts.
Punishment: Yours to choose.
Lightning lit the city white. My hands clenched. My heart pounded so hard it felt as though it might burst.
The choice was mine.
And for the first time, I felt the weight of true power.