The chains were cold against his skin.
He was on his knees in the middle of a strange courtroom. The room was filled with figures in black robes, but they had no faces—only smooth, dark masks that reflected his image back at him. The silence pressed down on him like weight.
One of the Judges spoke. The voice didn't come through the air; it rang inside his head.
"The Codex has chosen you. Speak now—life or erasure."
His mouth opened, but no words came. He didn't even know what they wanted from him.
Then he felt it. A hand touched his shoulder, warm and real. He turned quickly—and saw her.
Her face.
The girl he had once trusted more than anyone. The girl he loved. She had been his light when law school nights were too long, the one who laughed with him when the world felt heavy. But here, her face was pale, her eyes sharp, her expression torn between love and fear.
"Don't speak," she whispered. Somehow her voice carried in this strange place. "If you speak, they'll own you forever."
His chest tightened. Why was she here? Had she come to save him—or was she the reason he was here at all?
The gavel struck. The floor shook. Shadows leaned closer, like unseen jurors waiting for blood.
"The trial begins," the Judge thundered.
And as he lifted his head to face them, one truth hit him hard: this wasn't about guilt or innocence. This was the end.
His end.