Reckoning didn't arrive as punishment.
It arrived as accounting.
The first cost appeared in timing.
Ethan's requests stopped being answered quickly. Not ignored processed. Logged. Routed. Returned with conclusions instead of conversations.
"They're not negotiating anymore," Adrian said as we reviewed the response queue.
"No," I replied. "Reckoning replaces dialogue with outcome."
Reckoning also altered how people looked at him.
Not openly.
Briefly.
Eyes lingered a fraction longer before sliding away. Conversations adjusted mid-sentence. Courtesy remained but warmth recalibrated.
"They're uncertain how to treat him," Adrian said.
"Yes," I replied. "Because reckoning changes the rules without announcing them."
Unannounced rules were the hardest to navigate.
People feared misstep more than mistake. They avoided anchoring themselves to anyone whose gravity was fading. Alignment shifted from loyalty to safety.
"They're choosing distance," Adrian said.
