“The universe removes what it does not need. Prove you should remain.”
The floor beneath my feet turns transparent. Far below, the purple mass of the Devourer pulses, massive and waiting.
“Prove I should remain,” I repeat. How? How the fuck am I meant to do that?
Chapter 34
Nyssa
“Prove I’m necessary,” I repeat, staring down at the swirling purple mass below. The words almost get stuck, but I force them out anyway. “To who? The universe? The realm? Or just you?”
The Judge doesn’t blink. Her pale eyes remain fixed on me with the intensity of someone dissecting a particularly interesting specimen. “To existence itself.”
The transparent floor beneath my feet cracks. Hair-thin fractures spread outward from where I stand, each one glowing with a familiar gold light. It’s bleeding through the glass like molten metal poured into crystal. The light pulses in rhythm with my heartbeat, growing brighter with each surge of adrenaline.
“The Pantheon maintained balance for aeons,” the Judge continues, her voice as flat and final as a death certificate being filed. She doesn’t look up from her paperwork, as if my potential annihilation is just another item on her cosmic to-do list. She finally looks up, and her gaze is like ice water in my veins. “Then you arrived.”
“I didn’t ask to arrive,” I snap, my temper flaring despite the precariousness of my situation. The cracks in the floor spread faster, responding to my emotional state. “I was doing my job. Killing things that threatened people. That’s what slayers do—we protect humanity from the monsters that go bump in the night. I never asked for any of this divine responsibility bullshit.”
“Language,” Tabitha murmurs beside me, but there’s no real censure in her tone. She’s as tense as a bowstring, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles are white. I can feel the order magic radiating off her in controlled pulses, like a barely contained storm. She wants to speak, to argue, to impose her will on this tribunal, but the Judge’s rules bind her to silence as effectively as chains.
“And yet,” the Judge continues, ignoring my outburst entirely, “you killed a goddess. Claimed her power. Bonded with not one but three Shadow gods. Became something neither mortal nor divine, but a chimaera of both.” She taps her pen against the desk with mechanical precision, each click echoing in the vast white chamber. “You are an anomaly, Nyssa Vale. The First Law abhors anomalies. They must be corrected.”
The word ‘corrected’ hangs in the air like a guillotine blade, sharp and final. I can feel Tabitha flinch beside me, though she covers it well.
“Fine,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady even as the floor continues its slow disintegration beneath us. “You want proof I’m necessary? Look down there.” I gesture to the Devourer rippling below us, and even at this distance, I can feel its attention like hungry eyes on my skin. “That thing eats realms. It’s growing more intelligent. It’s not just mindless hunger anymore.”
“Yes,” the Judge agrees, and there’s something terrible in her tone. Something that makes my blood run cold. “It is learning. It is evolving. It is becoming something far more dangerous than itever was before.” She sets down her pen and finally gives me her full attention. “Because of you.”
I glare at her. “What?”
“By killing Aethel and claiming her power, you created the perfect vessel,” the Judge explains with the detached clinical tone of a coroner explaining the cause of death. “Immortal enough to contain the void without being destroyed by it. Mortal enough to walk among the living and interact with physical reality. Powerful enough to channel dominion over multiple realms simultaneously.”
She pulls out a thick file and reads from it. “Prior to your ascension, the Devourer was content to consume. To devour minor realms whole and move on to the next feeding ground. It was predictable. Containable. A force of nature, like a hurricane or an earthquake.”
My mouth goes dry. I can see where this is going, and I don’t like it one bit.
“But you changed that,” the Judge continues, turning a page with deliberate slowness. “When you claimed Aethel’s power and merged it with shadow magic, when you created this unprecedented fusion of light and dark, you inadvertently sent up a signal. You showed the Devourer what was possible.”
“I showed it what?”
“You showed it that power could be wielded rather than simply consumed. That realms could be ruled rather than destroyed. That with the right vessel it could achieve true dominion rather than mere annihilation.” The Judge closes the file with a snap that echoes like a gunshot. “You made yourself into exactly what it needed to evolve from mindless hunger into something far more dangerous: intelligence with ambition.”
The floor gives an ominous groan beneath us, the cracks spreading wider. Through the gaps, I can see the Devourer more clearly now, and my heart stops. It’s not just a shapeless massof the abyss anymore. There are patterns in its movements, structure to its form. It’s watching us with something that can only be called intelligence, and when it senses my attention, it pulses with what might be satisfaction.
“The universe was safer when you were just a slayer,” the Judge adds, lifting her stamp in preparation to pass judgement. “A simple human with a sharp blade and a calling to protect her own kind. Now you are the key to ultimate destruction, wrapped in the delusion of heroism.”
The truth tastes like bile in my mouth. Every choice I made, every power I claimed, every god I bonded with—it all led to this. I didn’t just stumble into divinity; I created my own nemesis. I made the monster I’m supposed to fight.
“Maybe,” I admit, my voice hoarse with the weight of revelation. “But you can’t unmake what’s already done. You can’t turn back time and make me choose differently.”
“Can’t I?” The Judge raises her stamp higher, and I can see power gathering around its edges like heat shimmer. “The First Law encompasses many authorities, including the correction of temporal anomalies.”
“Wait. Even if you could—even if you sent me back, made me choose differently—the Devourer would still exist. It would still be growing stronger. Maybe not as fast, maybe not as smart, but it would still be out there, eating realms one by one until there was nothing left.”
“Perhaps. But that would be a problem for another tribunal, another judge, another time. My concern is the anomaly you represent.”
“No.” I take a step forward, ignoring the way the floor groans under the movement. “The question isn’t whether I caused this—it’s whether I’m the solution. You said it yourself: I’m the perfect vessel. But that cuts both ways, doesn’t it?”
