The alley smelled like piss and old blood.
Cinder lay on his back, staring at the purple sky. The bruise-colored clouds didn't move. They never moved. His blood was warm under his head, spreading into a puddle that smelled like copper. His legs wouldn't move. His arms wouldn't move. Something was wrong with his chest. Every breath was a struggle, like sucking air through a wet rag.
'That's a lung. Probably punctured. Or collapsed. Or both.'
He'd been stabbed before. Beatings, too. This was different. This was the kind of wound that didn't get better.
A man stood over him. Fat. Expensive coat. A councilman from the look of it, the kind who had people to do the dirty work. He had a cigar between his fingers, smoke curling up into the dead sky. He looked down at Cinder the way someone looks at a piece of garbage that's been sitting in the street too long.
"You still breathing?" The councilman's voice was bored. "Tch. Tough bastard."
Cinder tried to say something. His mouth moved. Nothing came out. His throat was dry, or maybe his lungs just didn't work anymore.
The councilman took a long drag from his cigar. Ash fell. It landed on Cinder's cheek. He felt it. A small, hot point of pain. It was the only thing he could feel besides the wet cold spreading through his back.
"Should've stayed out of it," the councilman said. "But you people never do, do you? Always got to be heroes."
'Hero.' Cinder's lips twitched. Almost a laugh. He wasn't a hero. He'd just… seen it. The kid. Maybe ten years old. Trying to run. They'd caught her anyway. He'd tried to grab her, pull her away. Someone hit him from behind. Someone else put the knife in.
He didn't even know her name.
The councilman crouched. His knees cracked. Up close, his face was pink, well-fed, with small eyes that didn't look at Cinder's face. They looked at the blood pooling under his head.
"You're not from here," the councilman said. "Accent's wrong. Where'd you come from?"
Cinder didn't answer. Couldn't.
"Doesn't matter." The councilman stood. He dropped the cigar. It landed on Cinder's chest, sizzled against his shirt, went out. "No one's gonna find you here. No one's gonna bury you. In a few hours, the rats'll start. You know that?"
'Yeah. I know.'
The councilman turned. His expensive shoes clicked on the wet stones. The sound faded.
Then there was nothing.
Cinder stared at the sky. The two moons were up there, hanging like dead eyes. One was bigger than the other. They didn't move either. Nothing in this world moved right. He'd figured that out the first day he woke up here, three months ago, starving and confused and still tasting the concrete from his old world's sidewalk.
He'd been crossing the street. A truck. Horn blaring. Then nothing.
Then this.
Three months of gutter living. Three months of stealing bread, hiding from guards, watching people die in the street while no one stopped. Three months of telling himself it would get better.
'It didn't.'
His chest hurt less now. That was a bad sign. The numbness was spreading. He couldn't feel his hands anymore. Couldn't feel the cold stones under his back.
He thought about the kid. Her face was already fuzzy. Brown hair. Scared eyes. He'd seen her in an alley, backed against a wall, two men grabbing for her. He'd picked up a brick. He'd swung. He'd hit one of them. The other one…
'Doesn't matter. She got away. Maybe.'
The purple sky started to darken at the edges. His vision was closing in, like a tunnel. The moons were just two blurry spots now.
'This is it.'
He'd expected to feel something. Fear. Anger. Something. All he felt was tired. So fucking tired.
His eyes closed.
---
A sound.
Cinder's eyes snapped open.
He was still in the alley. Still on his back. The moons were in the same place. Nothing had changed. But there was a sound now. A hum. Low, deep, like a giant engine running somewhere far away.
Then the hum was inside his head.
'What—'
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION DETECTED]
A voice. Not a sound. It was words forming directly in his skull, like someone was writing on the inside of his brain. No tone. No emotion. Just flat, dead words.
[SCANNING HOST… HOST STATUS: TERMINAL]
[ERROR: HOST DEATH IMMINENT]
[FORCED BINDING INITIATED]
Pain.
Cinder's back arched off the stones. His mouth opened. No sound came out. His whole body was on fire, like someone had poured kerosene into his veins and lit it. The numbness was gone. Everything was pain. His heart hammered. His lungs burned. His skin felt like it was peeling off.
'Stop— make it stop—'
[SHADOW OF JUDGMENT: BINDING COMPLETE]
The pain vanished.
Cinder slammed back onto the stones, gasping. He sucked in air. His lungs worked. His chest— he touched it. No blood. No wound. His shirt was torn, stained with old blood, but the skin underneath was whole. No scar. Nothing.
He sat up. His head spun. He put a hand on the wet stones to steady himself.
'What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.'
He looked at his hand. The same hand. Calloused, dirty, nails cracked. But it was moving. He could feel the cold stones under his palm.
[FIRST TIME USER DETECTED. WELCOME, JUDGE.]
The words appeared in front of his face. Floating. A window of text, like a screen, but it wasn't a screen. It was just there, hanging in the air, made of light that didn't come from anywhere.
He stared at it.
[THE JUDGEMENT SYSTEM IS NOW ONLINE. YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO CARRY THE WILL OF THE SHADOW GOD. YOUR PURPOSE: JUDGE THE GUILTY. YOUR TOOL: KARMA.]
[PLEASE STAND BY FOR INITIALIZATION RITUAL.]
A laugh bubbled up in his chest. It came out as a cough. 'Chosen. Sure. I'm dying in a fucking gutter and some hallucination says I'm chosen.'
He tried to stand. His legs shook. He grabbed the wall, felt the rough stone scrape his palm. The world tilted. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
'This is real. This is actually real.'
He looked down at himself. The blood was still on his clothes. The wound was gone. He lifted his shirt. Smooth skin. No scar. Nothing.
[INITIALIZATION RITUAL WILL COMMENCE IN 60 SECONDS. PREPARE YOURSELF, PETTY JUDGE.]
'Petty Judge.' He almost laughed again. 'What the hell is this? Some kind of game?'
The floating text didn't answer. It just hung there, waiting.
He pushed off the wall. His legs held. He took a step. Then another. His boots splashed in the puddle of his own blood. The sound was too loud in the quiet alley.
He made it to the mouth of the alley. The street was empty. Cobblestones wet with the black stuff that sometimes dripped from the moons. The buildings on either side were tall, leaning toward each other like they were tired of standing. Lanterns hung on iron posts, flickering with orange light that didn't reach far.
No one around. No one ever came to this part of the city after dark.
[30 SECONDS.]
'Where do I go? What do I do?'
[20 SECONDS.]
He looked up at the sky. The moons stared down. The purple clouds still didn't move.
[10 SECONDS.]
'Fuck it. Fuck it.'
[INITIALIZATION RITUAL BEGINNING.]
A new window appeared. Bigger. The text was red.
[YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE FOLLOWING ABILITIES:]
[KARMA SIGHT – You will see the weight of sin. Each life carries a number. You will know who deserves judgement.]
[SHADOW OF JUDGMENT – Your shadow is no longer your own. It will obey. It will hunt. It will remember.]
[JUDGEMENT – The final verdict. Execute. Torture. Spare. Each choice has a price. You will bear the burden of every soul you judge.]
[WARNING: THE BURDEN IS REAL. YOUR BODY WILL DECAY. YOUR MIND WILL SCREAM. THE SYSTEM DOES NOT FORGIVE. THE SYSTEM DOES NOT FORGET.]
[DO YOU ACCEPT THE ROLE OF JUDGE?]
[YES / NO]
Cinder stared at the words. His hands were shaking. His heart was still pounding. He could feel the wet blood on his boots, smell his own copper in the air.
'If I say no, what happens?'
[IF YOU REFUSE, YOU WILL DIE. YOUR SOUL WILL DISPERSE. THERE WILL BE NO AFTERLIFE. NO REBIRTH. YOU WILL SIMPLY… STOP.]
He looked at the YES button. Then at the NO button.
'I just died. In a fucking alley. For a kid I don't even know. And now… this.'
He thought about the councilman's fat face. The way he'd dropped his cigar on Cinder's chest like it was nothing. The way he'd talked about the rats.
'He's probably home now. Drinking wine. Forgetting my face.'
Cinder's jaw clenched.
'I don't want to die. Not yet.'
He reached out. His fingers touched the YES button.
[ACCEPTANCE REGISTERED. WELCOME, PETTY JUDGE CINDER ORIGIN.]
[YOUR FIRST TARGET HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED.]
[NAME: GORAN VALTRIS]
[SIN COUNT: 847]
[CRIMES: MURDER (34), TORTURE (112), ENSLAVEMENT (201), ASSAULT (500)]
[LOCATION: 147 METERS EAST. THE IRON TANKARD TAVERN. SECOND FLOOR.]
[YOUR MISSION: EXECUTE JUDGEMENT.]
[FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION.]
The window vanished.
Cinder stood in the street, breathing hard. His hands were still shaking. His head was spinning. But the numbness was gone. The weakness was gone.
He looked east. A hundred and forty-seven meters. That wasn't far.
'A tavern. He's in a tavern. Drinking. While 847 people—'
He didn't finish the thought.
He started walking.
His boots made wet sounds on the cobblestones. The purple sky hung overhead. The two moons watched.
He walked.