The trial ceremony was not announced.
It began of its own accord.
At that moment, everyone in the academy was on the same wavelength.
It was as if they were all holding their breath collectively.
The courtyard floor revealed an ancient trial array.
It was not the student council's version, but an older form — one that did not even belong to this academy.
White Crow grasped the truth instantly, his voice low and almost distorted.
"This isn't our ritual..."
Li stood unflinching at the centre of the array.
He understood clearly that the ritual wasn't to judge others.
It was to bring him into alignment.
The vista unfolds.
It's not a dream.
Not resonance.
It is a forced projection from parallel trial coordinates.
Li beholds an unfamiliar academy.
The same fissures.
The same panic.
The same him.
That 'Li' stands aloft, eyes cool, movements precise, like a version refined countless times.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Only the outcome.
With each judgment delivered, a student's soul is stabilised, the fissure narrowed and the world sustained.
The cost was that Li's body was gradually becoming transparent.
He was not alive.
He was being used.
Layers of imagery were stacked on top of each other.
Li glimpsed more worlds.
In some, the Judge had collapsed, with rifts swallowing everything.
In others, the Judge succeeded in stabilising and then vanished.
Few worlds achieved both.
One common thread remained:
The Judge was always the last to be sacrificed.
Not because of wickedness.
But for efficiency.
Li's heart sank abruptly.
He finally understood why this position was always occupied by individuals who were willing to comprehend the suffering of others.
Only such individuals would choose not to flee at the final moment.
Layers of imagery intertwined.
Li glimpsed more worlds.
In some, the Judge had already collapsed and chasms were devouring everything; in others, the Judge had vanished after successfully stabilising the situation.
Rarely did a world experience both outcomes simultaneously.
Yet one common thread persisted throughout:
The Judge was always the final sacrifice.
Not because of their wickedness.
But for the sake of efficiency.
Li's heart sank abruptly.
He finally understood why this position was always filled by people who could comprehend others' suffering.
Only such individuals would choose not to flee at the last moment.
The Judgement Array was slowly extinguished.
There was no declaration.
There was no choice prompt.
But the system had updated.
Li clearly sensed that his connection to the academy had shifted from 'replaceable' to 'sole synchronisation'.
Bai Ya gazed at him, her expression tinged for the first time with something akin to anguish.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Li nodded.
"I saw it."
"Then why must you—"
Li cut her off, his tone unflappably calm.
"I'm not dead yet."
"That is enough."