Bel walked down the hall slightly offset from Balthazar, while Meph hung around his shoulders, moving about as he flicked his tongue into the strange new air. They’d taken the other door, the one that didn’t lead back to the courtyard. Bel wasn’t sure if that was because of everything that had happened, or because this way was actually faster, but in either case, he wasn’t upset about it.

If his cell had felt like a cross between a dentist's office waiting room and a drunk tank, this hallway was purely institutional. White walls, marble floor, and a steady pattern of fluorescent lights above them. Bel wondered if they were actually fluorescent. It seemed like a strange thing for a magic prison. Were the lights magic? His mind wandered.

He tried to stop himself from thinking about the last few hours, but every time he dropped his guard, he found his thoughts returning to the carnage. Small snippets of time looped in his head as he reviewed the scene over and over. The crowd’s screams seemed louder, the giant’s silence more crushing, and the fire hotter every time the memory replayed. It always ended the same way.

“Who was the man in the courtyard? The one the red guards killed,” Bel asked.

Balthazar stopped mid stride, and Belmont nearly ran into him. He turned, waving his long purple cloak around him as he did, and looked Bel in the eyes.

“The man was a prisoner. I do not know his name. They are all prisoners.” He drew a deep breath. “Because of the shortened time table of the destruction of Earth, you are here in this prison instead of somewhere a little more comfortable, but this was the closest facility with a judge. I arranged for a wing to be cleared out, hoping to ease you into things—and to reach you before anything happened. I wasn’t fast enough.” His eyes dropped. “I’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t have had to deal with it.”

Bel shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He wasn’t sure how much he meant it, but he said it anyway. “He said something to me, though. Tonight, all chains are broken. Does that mean anything to you?”

“To me? No, but it wasn’t meant for me.”

Bel wrinkled his forehead. “It was meant for me?”

“No, not you, either—not really.” Balthazar looked Bel up and down, reading his emotions. “Tell me, did he look like he believed what he said?”

Bel paused and let his mind go back to the courtyard, and the events unfolded in surreal vignettes. He drew up the memory of the man and he pressed play on the scene in his mind. The giant’s overwhelming stature. The words. His eyes when he spoke them. Bel looked at Balthazar and exhaled. “Yeah. I think he believed it.”

Balthazar nodded. “If we wish to inspire others, we must first, ourselves, be inspired. What he said wasn’t for you—it was for him. Belief can be a radical thing.”

Bel recalled his childhood spent in the church and sighed. “Yeah.”

Balthazar turned and started back down the hall. Bel waited behind a moment, but thought better about asking more.

Balthazar pointed to the end of the hall. A set of wooden doors ornately carved in designs and patterns evoking nature loomed over the corridor. “That’s the room for the hearing.”

Bel felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He stopped again. “Hey, Balthazar.”

Balthazar turned.

Bel swallowed, and the weight in his gut shifted. He felt sick. “This isn’t OK, you know? None of this. I don’t like it.” He took quick breaths in repetition. “I fucking can’t…”

A look of genuine concern and care came to Balthazar’s face. “I know, Belmont. I know.” He put a reassured hand on Bel’s shoulder. “You’re right, it’s not OK. It never is, and it never will be. What I can tell you, though, is that it gets better. Nothing will ever fix what has happened to you, and I won’t bother lying to you saying things like ‘You’ll move on,’ or ‘Time heals all wounds.’ That’s bullshit and we both know it. But what happens next, what you do with the power that you’ll gain, that is up to you, and you can make things better—for yourself, and for everyone else. Instead of telling you to bury this feeling and hide it away, I want you to remember it—remember it forever. It is the most important feeling you’ll ever have. What you feel right now—hopelessness, loneliness, defeat—it won’t go away. But every step forward will be a step away from it, and there’s power in that. Don’t forget this feeling, Bel. Let it drive you.”

Bel felt tears at the corners of his eyes. Balthazar leaned in and hugged him. Bel wrapped his arms around him and the two men embraced silently in the hall. Bel felt everything melt away. The last day faded from memory, and there was a moment of peace and calm. He felt his breath slow and his heart rate drop.

Through the tears, Bel chuckled. He ran his hands over Balthazar’s purple cloak. “Your cape is so soft. Do you dry clean?”

Balthazar laughed and stood back. “It’s not a cape. It’s a traveling cloak, and it’s very special to me.”

Bel held up his hands in mock apology. “Hey, sorry. Was it a gift?”

“Actually, yes, it was. I tell you what, when this is all over, I’ll give you the story all about it.”

Bel smiled and nodded. “That sounds good.” He looked at Balthazar again, and despite the man’s youthful appearance, he held himself as someone twice his age. Bel wondered how much he’d been through in his life to look that way.

They continued the last hundred feet down the hall until they reached the door. Balthazar turned and looked back at Bel.

“You’re ready,” Balthazar said, his voice calm but certain. Bel felt the weight in his chest lighten, just slightly. He nodded. He was.

Balthazar pushed both of the doors open with visible effort, though they swung smooth and quietly. Bel looked at the depth of the door. It was half a foot of solid wood, and at least twelve feet tall and half as wide. Each side must have weighed a literal ton.

The room beyond was somehow a complete surprise, while also exactly what Bel expected. Wide, well lit, completely empty of people, and mostly empty of everything else. The wood patterns in the door were mirrored as art along the walls, wood carved in relief, depicting scenes of natural beauty. Bel had a friend who did some woodwork, and he knew that even one of the carved chunks of wood on the wall would cost more than Bel made in a year in a kitchen, and there were dozens.

The floor layout reminded him of a college lecture hall. It was a rounded room with tiered seating along the outside, and at the center was a table made of the same wood as the doors, with three chairs on one side. Across from the table was the only thing that stood out about the room. It was a large, black monolith of stone that cast a dark shadow over the table. Bel knew exactly what it was for.

Balthazar was halfway to the table before Bel had realized he needed to move. He stepped quickly while swiveling his head around the room, taking it all in. Balthazar pulled a chair out from the table for Bel to sit in and then took a seat himself. Now, in front of the black stone, it was even more intimidating. And it smelled. That barbecue smell. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be quiet yet or not, but he risked it.

He leaned in and whispered to Balthazar, “What is that smell? I keep smelling it. It smells like burned meat.”

“That’s the Aether. It’s the smell of dark energy and dark matter, or magic.”

Bel chuckled and shook his head.

“I forgot to tell you. I don’t know if our judge will be humanoid or not. If they aren’t, it may shock you. That’s OK, but try not to act on it.”

Bel exhaled sharply. “What? That’s important! You forgot?”

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“Quiet.”

Bel went to protest again, but the smell of Aether overwhelmed him. The lights of the room seemed to dim for a moment, or maybe it was just the rush of blood to his head as the first actual alien he’d ever seen appeared before him, standing behind the black stone.

The first thing that popped into Bel’s mind was the image of an angel. Not a biblically accurate one, but more like a Renaissance painting done during an acid trip. The being’s body was blue-ish white and made of thick, clotted smoke that dissipated and reformed when it moved. It maintained two arms, but its legs were barely wisps, however, it had a substantial tail that was easily as long as the being was tall. The head was the most alien aspect of it, though. A smooth, featureless face with no mouth, eyes, or nose to speak of, and from the sides of its head, a ring of the smoke wrapped around, giving the impression of a halo.

Balthazar rose from his seat, and when he saw the dumbstruck look on Bel’s face, he grabbed his shirt by the collar and yanked, half-pulling Bel to his feet.

When the being spoke, the clouded face adapted and changed, forming the words with vaporous lips. “Be seated.” The words vibrated in Bel’s skull like a jackhammer.

Bel dropped into his seat with a thud, and he heard Balthazar groan.

There were no eyes, but Bel felt as though the being stared into his soul. “It is your first time seeing one of my species?”

Bel was silent.

Balthazar spoke in his place. “Yes, Your Honor. He has never met one of the Luminis before.”

“I see.” The voice drilled into his ears. “Then it pleases me to be the first.”

The shock was wearing off, and Bel could swear there was a hint of malice in the voice as it spoke the words.

“I am Chasan of the Luminis.”

Balthazar spoke again, with reverence, “It is our great honor to be among one of The First Victors. This is Michael Belmont Graham. I am Balthazar Appovi et’Sabathiel, his Advocate of Passage.”

The Luminis let out an indistinct sound Bel took for displeasure, but if it was, Balthazar paid it no mind.

“And the serpent?”

Balthazar looked at Meph, wound tightly around Bel’s shoulders. “And that is Mephisto, a serpent, yes, and a lower species.”

“And you advocate for its passage as well, I assume.” There was bile in the words.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

There was a long pause before the Luminis spoke again. “Very well. State your case.”

Balthazar bowed his head graciously and started. “Mr. Graham and his pet, Mephisto, are each the last of their species. The planet Earth, as it was called by the indigenous population, was destroyed three weeks ago.”

Bel blinked. Three weeks? Had he been unconscious that long? It only felt like a few hours since… He pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

The judge spoke, “And this Earth was Tier…?”

“Zero, Your Honor.”

The judge’s laugh was unmistakable, if totally unrecognizable. “A Tier 0 world. Rarely do such worlds produce anything of note.” A hint of superiority came through the words that Belmont couldn’t miss. “And you chose a humanoid as your ward?”

“It was solely populated by humanoids, Your Honor.”

“I see. A Tier 0 world, populated entirely by humanoids. That explains much about the planet’s… swift demise. The cause?” Bel thought the judge seemed suddenly bored.

“We are looking into it, but it seems to have been a mining accident.”

The judge visibly righted. “If it was being mined, then it was claimed. Is a Guild advocating for passage?”

Balthazar shook his head. “No, Your Honor. The system was under Mythra control, but they did not choose a participant, so under Progression Law 563 sub—”

“Do not quote the law to me. I am fully aware of it.” The voice boomed in Belmont’s head.

“I apologize, Your Honor.”

The head of the judge turned left and right, looking between Belmont and Balthazar. Bel tried to meet the judge’s eyeless stare, but it felt like staring into a storm cloud, his thoughts stripped bare and found wanting.

“Very well, let us get on with it,” the judge continued. “What is the humanoid’s tier?”

“Tier 0.”

“And the serpent?”

“The same, Tier 0.”

“A Tier 0 humanoid and its pet? I’m surprised anyone would waste time advocating for such… primitive specimens.”

Bel coughed, and he felt Balthazar’s hand quickly move to his arm and squeeze.

“As a requirement of my continued role as an advocate, I must put forth one candidate on each new extinction world for the Sovereignty Games. Eon will be closed soon, and so I have chosen Mr. Graham.”

“Ahh, so you have procrastinated, and are now left with little other choice.”

Balthazar’s tone changed as he seemed to take offense. “Your Honor, I would remind you that the Council itself has seen merit in such advocacy before.”

“When is the last time a human won the Sovereignty Games?” The judge questioned mockingly.

Balthazar held up his right hand and extended his pointer finger so that the ring on it caught the light and sparkled. “One-thousand seven-hundred sixteen years ago, Your Honor.” There was deep pride in the statement.

The judge’s voice rumbled, “Now it makes sense. A humanoid, advocating for another humanoid. I suppose even cattle can have worth.”

The word 'cattle' hung in the air, and Bel felt his stomach churn. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out, to say something. Anything. He could sense a change in Balthazar’s mood as well. Something wasn’t right.

Balthazar cleared his throat. “I have a special request, if it pleases, Your Honor.”

Bel could feel the tension between the two. There was a rumbling groan from the judge before he answered. “Very well, I will listen.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. As both are Tier 0, and from a Tier 0 world, I would ask that they be granted one Tier 1 aspect of their choosing upon arrival.”

The judge laughed. “Request denied.”

Bel saw Balthazar’s fist clench. “Your Honor, I do not believe—”

“You do not make the rules of the Sovereignty game, Advocate. Need I remind you, I am of the First Victors. I hold the game above all creation. I will not have it sullied by giving such lowly creatures an advantage.”

“It’s hardly an advantage, there will be others there much more po—”

“Do not test my patience.” There was a pause as the judge thought. “I will not grant them power above their own. However, if they agree to be bound, then I will bind them.”

There was no pause in Balthazars reply, “Agreed.”

The judge stared. “The haste of your reply worries me, Advocate.”

Balthazar said nothing.

“Hmmm. Very well. The human and serpent are now bound.”

Bel had no idea what was going on, or what being bound meant, but he went with Balthazar on this one. If the man was confident it was the right move, he’d roll with it.

Bel caught the scent of burning meat—stronger now, overwhelming. The judge’s featureless face seemed to blur, its body shifting into a vortex of light and shadow. Something tugged at Bel’s chest, a sharp pull like a fishhook yanking him from the inside out. He gasped, clutching the table, as a warmth spread through his veins.

Meph writhed against his shoulders, coiling tighter, then froze. For a moment, Bel swore he heard something—not words, but a sense. Calm. Cautious. Present.

Then it was over. The smell faded, and Bel blinked, his vision clearing. But something felt… different. Meph shifted slightly, and for a brief second, Bel felt not his own emotion, but something else entirely. A flicker of contentment that wasn’t his. The judge’s words interrupted his thoughts.

“And now, we must discuss the matter of the riot earlier.”

Balthazar cleared his throat. “My ward was not involved.”

The judge cocked his head. “Truly? I have a report that says otherwise. He escaped his cell, kidnapped another prisoner, and then was seen at the forefront of the assault on the Tier 1 Holding’s panopticon. I believe that he would have been immolated by the Tempest Guard, had you not stepped in at the last moment.”

Bel couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Balthazar mutter, “Fuck,” under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Advocate. Was there something you wished to say? Is the report I’ve been given incorrect?” The snide tone of the judge was blatant. Bel felt the muscles in his shoulders tense.

“Belmont was not an active participant in the conflict. He left his cell out of confusion, and during the fight, he did not attack.”

“And the kidnapping? I wonder, did he mean to use the child? For labor? Or perhaps something more… personal? Humanoids are known for their peculiar attachments.”

That was it. The last straw. The words hit Bel like a slap across the face, and he shot up from his seat, sending his chair skidding backwards. Meph tensed on his shoulders, hissing faintly as Bel slammed his fists against the table.

“Hey, fuck you, you fucking cunt!” Bel’s voice cracked with fury. “You’ve said a lot of shit, but I’m not going to let you accuse me of that!”

The silence was so complete that Bel could have heard a pin drop.

The air seemed to solidify, pressing down on Bel like a vice. The swirling smoke around Chasan’s form burned brighter, flashes of crimson and gold crackling within. Bel’s vision swam, but he held firm, his teeth bared in defiance.

A heat rose around him, subtle at first, but increasing. It came in waves, like standing downwind from a forge. The surrounding air refracted like water in the intensity, and he felt beads of sweat form on his arms and forehead. He choked on the sweltering wind as he breathed it in, but he didn’t care. He was past the point of reason.

Through the fumes he wheezed, “Come on! Is that all you got? All that power and you can’t even kill a little Tier 0 Humanoid? Do it, motherfucker! End me!” Bel coughed and his lungs burned, but he screamed with all he had left. “END ME!”

“SILENCE!” The judge’s voice cracked like a storm rolling over an endless plain. Bel’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as though a weight had dropped onto it. He collapsed back into his seat, gasping, the air around him finally cooling. His body felt drained, heavy.

The judge tilted its head, the swirling halo of smoke glowing faintly. There was a long moment before he spoke again. “This insolence has sealed your fate. For your defiance, a century of penance shall be your burden. You will carry the mark of your disrespect, and your kind will know its place.”

Bel’s left hand erupted in stinging pain. He looked down at it and watched as a mark was burned into it like a brand. Silvery ink appeared in the wound and soaked through his skin, leaving behind a blackened tattoo of scar tissue. It was a simplified image of the Luminis’ alien head—an oval with a halo. The mark shimmered faintly as though it held a life of its own, its blackened lines sharp and unnatural against his skin. It wasn’t just a brand—it was a condemnation.

Balthazar leaned over, “The mark of judgement. Melchior was right about you.” Bel almost thought he saw a smile on the young man’s face, but then, everything went black.