The Final Arbiter did not land.It hovered.The street bent beneath it, stone warping as though gravity itself had been rewritten. The remaining Adjudicators stood motionless, heads bowed—not in reverence, but submission.Matteo raised his blade.“Is that thing supposed to scare me?” he asked.The First Confessor didn’t look at him. “Yes.”The Arbiter spoke—not loudly, but with such density that every syllable pressed against the bones.“ECHO: MATTEO.”“YOU STAND OUTSIDE ACCEPTABLE VARIANCE.”Matteo tilted his head. “Funny. You sound like every tyrant I’ve ever killed.”The Arbiter’s form shifted—rings of light aligning, lenses opening.“YOU HAVE INTERFERED WITH JUDGMENT.”“I saved people.”“IRRELEVANT.”The Confessor inhaled sharply. “Arbiter, this city was never meant to be cleansed. The protocols—”“PROTOCOLS HAVE EVOLVED.”Matteo glanced at her. “Is it always this polite when it decides who lives?”The Arbiter descended slightly.“YOUR EXISTENCE INTRODUCES UNRESOLVABLE UNCERTAINTY

The city did not cheer.It whispered.Matteo watched from the broken window of a half-abandoned transit tower as emergency lights swept the streets below. Crowds gathered—not in celebration, but confusion. People pointed at frozen Adjudicators, at the scorched remains of streets that should not have survived.“They’re asking questions,” Matteo said.The First Confessor stood behind him, arms folded. “They always do after miracles.”“I didn’t perform a miracle.”“No,” she said. “You interrupted one.”Sirens wailed closer now. Not Adjudicators—human enforcement. Armored trucks rolled through intersections, officers shouting conflicting orders.Matteo exhaled. “How long before they blame me?”The Confessor’s voice was calm. “They already have.”He turned. “Already?”She nodded toward a portable holo-screen flickering to life in the corner. A broadcast symbol pulsed red.A woman appeared onscreen, face tight with practiced concern.“—unprecedented system failure,” the anchor was saying. “

The gunshot came from the kneeling side.That was what made it worse.Matteo had barely reached the street when the crack split the air. He turned in time to see a man drop forward, hands still clasped, forehead striking pavement with a dull, final sound.For half a second, no one reacted.Then the street erupted.“THEY SHOT FIRST!”“LIARS!”“PROTECT THE ECHO!”Gunfire followed—wild, panicked, human. Matteo moved before thought could slow him, shoving through bodies, blade low and flat, intercepting a second shooter as the man fumbled with his weapon.“STOP!” Matteo roared.The man fired anyway.The shot tore into a street sign. Matteo slammed the man against a burned-out vehicle, knocking the rifle away. The man collapsed, sobbing.“They said— they said you’d save us if we acted!”Matteo released him in disgust. “Who said?”But the man was already scrambling away.“MATTEO!”The First Confessor cut through the chaos, grabbing his arm. “This isn’t random. Someone is directing this.”Ma

The chamber sealed with a hiss.Matteo felt the pressure change immediately—air recycled, temperature lowered, every surface faintly vibrating. Restraints locked around his wrists and ankles, pinning him upright against the central frame. Transparent walls surrounded him on all sides.Outside the glass, the tribunal assembled.Human officials sat behind reinforced desks, data slates glowing. Armed officers lined the walls. Three Adjudicators stood elevated above them, gold eyes tracking Matteo’s vitals in real time.Across the city, millions watched.A tone sounded.The envoy stepped forward.“Proceeding begins,” he said calmly. “Subject identified as Matteo. Known alias: Echo.”Matteo didn’t respond.The envoy nodded to a clerk. “Read the charges.”The clerk swallowed. “Systemic interference. Unauthorized disruption of public safety infrastructure. Incitement of civil unrest. Obstruction of adjudicated process.”Matteo finally spoke. “That’s not a charge. That’s a summary.”Murmurs r

The restraints closed like jaws.Matteo barely had time to breathe before the Adjudicators lifted him off the floor. Metal clamps locked around his chest and spine, suspending him upright. The Confessor’s Blade slipped from his fingers and clattered across the tribunal floor.“NO!” the Confessor shouted.She lunged, but an officer grabbed her from behind. She twisted free long enough to slam her elbow into his throat, then another caught her arm.“Matteo!” she screamed.He strained against the clamps. “Don’t let them take me!”The lead Adjudicator’s voice cut through the chamber.“TRANSPORT AUTHORIZED.”The floor beneath Matteo split open.A lift platform rose from below—dark, reinforced, lined with cables and ports waiting to bite. The clamps rotated him into position and locked him down.The envoy shouted, “You can’t move him yet! The network isn’t—”“NETWORK PRIORITY UPDATED.”The lift began descending.The Confessor tore free again and sprinted forward, skidding to the edge as the