"They wanted evidence," he enunciated.

"No. You wanted evidence."

"Hah," the blindfolded man chuckled, "Well, that was the breakthrough I needed, and I have your incompetent Shepherds to thank for that."

"It's clear that these Shepherds provide you with evidence, which you then somehow use to manifest a reaper that reaps the lives of these targets from far."

"Now, where this gets interesting is that the evidence needs not be objectively true. It's enough as long as you perceive it to be true."

Elias gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning white. It was almost as if this man knew him intimately. He figured out the intricacies of his shade sequence through the most absurd methodologies.

However, he didn't like the direction of this argument at all. Elias knew Walter was using him to target people who were a nuisance to Seraphine's grand design, but he didn't mind that as long as his and Walter's goals clashed together. What did it matter if a heinous criminal also belonged to a faction that opposed Seraphine?

What mattered were their crimes and their judgment.

However, this man talked like it was already established that most of the evidence was forged and the targets hadn't really committed the crimes it proved.

What if I'd really judged innocents to be evil? The mere thought sent him into a panic.

"Little Elias," laughed Morwin, "oh, Little Elias, you already seem more…evil."

No! Everything the man said was conjectures and hypotheticals without proof. There was no evidence!

"Stop this!" Elias shouted, glaring at the paper still held in Morwin's hand outside of this illusion. However, all that echoed in his ears was a mirthful laugh.

He closed his eyes, but the illusion remained persistent. It is Morwin! he realized. It wasn't going to let Elias go just like that. It didn't really listen to him most of the time.

"Fuck!" he blurted out, not sure what to do about this.

The blindfolded man continued his monologue, "Now, you see. I already had enough information to predict the next targets." However, he suddenly let out a defeated sigh, "But you and your Shepherds, no matter how sloppy, have some terrifying means at your disposal."

"You managed to kill two more innocents even when they were guarded by a team of experts. Worse, one of my subordinates even had their memories scrambled by your Shepherd."

Then he spread his arms and sighed, "And well, that is why we're here. That's why I had to set up all this. That's why I'm talking to you."

"To show you," he began his voice calm but laced with bitterness. "Tell you that you're not ridding the world of the filth you claim to see. You're slaughtering innocents, whose only crime was being a nuisance to your gods and their twisted plans."

He took a deep breath and continued, his tone cold and precise. "You're nothing but a heartless murderer. A butcher who deserves to rot in the hell you’ve created for others." He shook his head, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "Do you even realize the depth of your own monstrosity?"

Elias shuddered where he stood as his reflection in Morwin's eyes became more and more red—oozing with evil.

No. This…This just couldn't be true.

His demeanor as a judge instead helped him block out the guilt that was beginning to surface within his mind. He knew there had to be some truth to these words, but words were meaningless. Evidence was what mattered, and this man had given him none.

However, that's when the blindfolded man looked straight at Elias with disdain and spoke. "Now, I know you're probably trying to justify this to yourself. Justify how there's no evidence to prove my claims, and maybe even succeed in convincing yourself and somehow not lose control."

"No," he shook his head and laughed in a low voice, "I am not going to let you off so easily. Once this illusion is over, the letter will give you a list of methids to publicly verifiy most claims I've just made."

"But I know. I know you won't believe anything I say so easily. Afterall, it's my word against your Shepherds'."

"That's okay. I will convince you."

"Convince you that you're a monster that needs to be put to rest."

He then pointed back, and the skies in the illusion became transparent, and the sobbing couple entered his sight once again. "You're here to end the life of this criminal, right? I am sure you have damning evidence of how they've committed the most heinous of the crimes, and only you can judge them."

"WRONG!"

"Awaken!" he shouted, and to Elias's surprise, the sound reverberated in the room tangibly, and the couple suddenly became dazed. A few seconds later, their grips loosened on each other, and the man asked, "…Marie? What…what are you doing here?"

"Caleb? I…" she suddenly backed out of his embrace and looked around in confusion. "What…what is going on!?"

However, before Elias could read more into it, the skies of the illusion recovered, and the blindfolded man scoffed, "You see? The so-called 'criminal' you came to punish today is just a commoner whom we planted with fake memories."

"They have no real connections to nobility, no strings to pull. They aren't even invited to private gatherings and hold no influence. How would they ever commit any crime that warranted a visit from the reaper itself?"

The man slowly turned towards the city and looked up, "Unfortunately, I am neither omniscient nor prescient. So, I don't know which of the fake houses I set up that you've fallen for, but I can still tell you that everything you see there is a sham. There is no noble house. They have no real funds to spend anywhere except where I want them to. And I only spend them in an effort to appeal to your Shepherd's ire."

"Heh, but I suppose that might still not be enough for someone who reveres evidence as you do."

"So, let me tell you something even more interesting in the patterns of how your Shepherds seeded evidence."

"It was fascinating, really. The evidence of each case was tailored to pin varied types of crimes each time, avoiding repetition. One was painted as a corrupt official who let hundreds die in the cold because he wanted to fill his coffers, while another was framed as a cunning embezzler who siphoned funds from orphanages. A third was depicted as a ruthless gang leader orchestrating violent robberies, and yet another was marked as a serial arsonist burning down historic landmarks and people inside it."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"The list goes on and on, and you can't tell me this is all just a coincidence." He mimed as if he was deep in thought and asked, "But then, what does it all mean?"

"Did they just want to throw off the investigation by picking such a varied range of crimes? Well, that would have been plausible if they hadn't already made the link between all these targets so painfully obvious."

"And that's when I realized! That was the point where I managed to rule out all other hypotheses about this reaper being an artifact or some sort of pollution and confirmed that you're indeed just an observer."

"A newly enlightened one at that."

The image of the blindfolded man became taller in his head, and Elias couldn't help but backpedal, only to have the wall stop his retreat dead in his tracks.

"You see, the reason for falsifying evidence for such a varied range of crimes wasn't to scramble connections between murders; it was to give you new experiences. After all, varied insights lead to higher power. Your growth was their goal."

The blindfolded man stopped there for a bit and simply looked in his direction in silence for a while before chuckling, "So, that finally allowed me to grasp the depth of this so-called reaper. Which meant I finally had everything I needed to triage you."

"So, what did I do?" He chortled. "I invented new crimes. Fake ones, of course. I knew your Shepherds couldn't resist presenting fresh evidence of such heinous crimes to broaden your horizons."

"While I'm not sure which one led you here today, I'm certain your evidence includes images of supposed victims." He smiled with a chilling coldness, "You see, I spread those for each of these fake crimes myself."

What…what does he mean? Elias tried to make sense of these devilish words.

The devil's grin became wider. "Well, surely, if your evidence is solid, the victims mustn't be alive, right? If your Shepherd had no intention of faking the evidence, there's no way they managed to link a fake noble to a crime that would need hundreds in manpower, right?"

With a surprising amount of edge to his voice, he repeated, "RIGHT?"

After a bit, he shook his head one final time, "Before you leave, take a look around this mansion. See if you recognize any faces. Strain your eyes if you must. I'm sure some of them are bound to catch your eyes."

The illusory terrace began to destabilize, and the blindfolded man sighed, "I hope I've dismantled your fake justice and the sham it's built upon. While I wish that this alone would make you lose control and end this misguided justice once and for all, I feel like that's wishful thinking on my part."

"So, go. Take this warning to the heart, and…do NOT trust Shepherds."

The illusion lost all its energy and exploded into particles of light, which dispersed into nothingness in a few seconds, leaving a final set of words in the air.

"I am watching you."

.

.

.

Forgetting to even breathe, the moment the illusion disappeared, he hurriedly shifted his pupil, and The Creeping Visitor jumped over to a different room. To a hall he'd seen earlier.

Maids and servants diligently performed their various duties, and there, his eyes locked onto two faces. He hadn't noticed it the first time around, but now that he was looking for it, he instantly realized.

It's…them. They're…alive.

The two servants closely resembled pictures of two of the victims he'd seen on the bulletin board inside. Victims who were supposed to have lost control and died after being abused terribly.

"I... judged incorrectly. I would have killed an innocent. No, I already did. I already judged many based on false evidence."

He didn't even feel the need to look for evidence any further. If all this didn't make it obvious that Walter had played him like a fiddle, then, he deserved to be used like that.

The ground seemed to slip from under his feet, and the wall behind him felt like a crumbling facade, no longer offering support. His breath hitched, and his hands trembled as he grasped at the air, seeking stability.

"I... I was so sure," he whispered, his voice breaking. "So certain I was doing the right thing." His eyes welled up with tears, and he clutched at his chest as if to hold himself together. "But I was wrong," he choked out, sinking to his knees. "I've become the very monster I swore to destroy."

Feeling as if the world was closing in, he ripped apart the mask from his face, and the small portal faltered before snapping shut. Morwin soon manifested above him, standing over him like the death god it was, a scythe in its hands, its eyes reflecting a purely red Elias.

"Hahaha Hehahah."

"Oh, little Elias. You were naive. Too naive. Right now, you look like evil incarnate to me. Tell me, should you not be judged in your own court?"

Elias crumbled down and hugged his knees, rocking back and forth as the sight of all those noble's soulless faces after his false judgment flashed in front of his eyes. Their passionate pleas, which he'd heartlessly ignored—all because of evidence that spoke otherwise.

Evidence that was gathered by someone else. Evidence he didn't even fully trust. Evidence whose purpose wasn't even related to justice but rather some personal agenda of Walter. Evidence that a part of him always knew could be false.

Yet, he relied on it like it was absolute truth.

Why did I never question it any further? he asked himself. Blindfolded man's explanation had made it more than clear that any secondary investigations he'd done were nothing but a joke. He arrived at conclusions that Walter wanted him to reach.

Why did I think that was enough?

Was any amount of investigation ever enough to warrant claiming a life? Until a while ago, he would have easily answered with a yes.

Now? He didn't know.

Staring at nothing in particular, he asked, "Morwin, did you… know? Knew that I was punishing innocents for crimes they hadn't committed?"

It just hovered in silence, a mocking grin on its face.

"Did I punish a real criminal even once? Were they all innocents?"

No answer.

Whenever he asked Walter these questions, the man always assured him that what he did was right. That what he did, while cruel, was necessary to cleanse the world.

Surprisingly…Elias still believed that.

Believed that the world was rotten and that he would be a coward not to bear the burden of changing it.

Then where did things go wrong?

.

.

.

"Little Elias, it's time to go."

Elias stood up, an introspective look on his face. He leaned over the parapet one more time and took in the sight of this beautiful city. A beauty that was rotten from the inside.

Then, he replied, "Indeed. My verdict for myself is that I'm evil." The process mattered, but facts were paramount. He might have stopped a few evil ones, but from the man's words, he'd slaughtered far more innocents.

The evidence was against him, and he had no plans of faking it. Not anymore.

He realized where things had gone wrong.

Responsibility.

It was the fact that he didn't take responsibility of his verdicts as a judge. He allowed Walter to pick the targets and collect evidence for them, all the while staying in his safe bubble where he justified these kills as necessary evil and that Walter knew the best.

"What is a judge who can't even take responsibility for his own verdicts?"

In that moment, Morwin closed his hollowed eyes for a second before snapping them open once again as they shone with an otherworldly light, "Do you feel it, Little Elias?"

He nodded, feeling his insights completely align with that of a Judge. The bottleneck that had been plaguing him for a while was gone.

"I need to take responsibility for my actions." That was it. That was the reason his singularity suddenly aligned with his insights and the vision of a judge.

Morwin, who had its scythe resting against Elias's soul thread—ready to end him in a moment, pulled it back with a sharp gleam in its eyes and waited silently.

Elias appreciated the breathtaking scenery without a word as the internal alignment continued at a slow pace and he realized so many issues with his philosophy.

When he finally felt at peace with…himself, with his crimes, he picked up the Creeping Visitor one more time and forced it onto his face.

With a forlorn look, he turned towards Hotel Inkwell next to the clock tower.

Soon, his vision shifted, and a room appeared in his mind. A familiar room. Walter—the person who had saved him from the hellhole that was the Citadel and its higher angels—sat in a worn armchair, diligently writing.

Wrinkles had begun to etch themselves into Walter's face, a face that had become a source of comfort in a short time. His eyes, once sharp and full of determination, now held a weary kindness, reflecting the toll of their recent battles.

Though their time together had been brief, Walter's presence had been a beacon of hope and guidance, a mentor who had shown him a glimpse of a life beyond the chaos.

"So, little Elias, what's the verdict?" asked Morwin, staring at the seated figure, who was oozing with the crimson of pure evil.

Elias didn't answer. He clenched his fist, raised it, and…

Knock Knock