System Of Judgment: Rise Of Kael

The rain fell like the sky’s punishment. Chains clinked with every breath Kael took. The mud beneath his knees was black and cold, swallowing what little dignity he had left. 

Around him, the crowd jeered, miners, guards, merchants, faces he once called neighbors. “That’s the thief.”

“He killed his overseer!”

“Let the lightning burn the filth clean!”

Kael’s head hung low, soaked hair hiding his eyes. His wrists bled where the iron bit deep. The square reeked of wet stone and cruelty.

“Kael Thorn,” the overseer read from a parchment, his voice smug, “sentenced to branding for theft, rebellion, and destruction of Imperial property.”

Kael’s voice was hoarse. “You forged the accounts. You stole from us.”

The overseer smirked, leaning close. “And who will believe a debtor’s son over me?” He lifted a glowing brand from the fire, a rod tipped with the sigil of the empire, red as the devil’s tongue.

The heat shimmered in the rain. Steam hissed as it touched the surface. Kael didn’t flinch. He looked up, eyes gray and unyielding. “Do it,” he whispered. “Let it mark the truth you fear.”

The overseer pressed the iron against his back. The sound was hideous, a hiss, a scream, the smell of burning flesh.

Kael’s roar split the storm. Lightning tore across the sky at that same instant, striking the ground mere feet away. 

The crowd scattered, shrieking as thunder swallowed their laughter. When the light faded, Kael lay motionless in the mud, skin smoking, breath shallow.

“Leave him,” the overseer spat, tossing the brand into the fire. “He’s finished.”

They left him there, bound, branded, and forgotten. Night fell heavy. The rain softened to a whisper, washing ash and blood down the cobblestones. 

Kael’s fingers twitched. Pain still licked every nerve, but something inside him refused to die. His heartbeat, weak, then stronger, pounded like drums in a cavern.

A voice echoed inside his skull, clear and emotionless. [System of Judgment… Activated.]

Kael’s breath hitched. “Who’s there?”

No answer. Only glowing lines forming in the air before him, symbols of light, strange and alive.

[Welcome, Kael Thorn.]

Kael blinked through rain. “Trial? I’m… dying.”

[Sin Detected: False Accusation.]

He stared, disbelief and fury fighting in his chest. “Judge him? I can’t even stand!”

The voice was calm: [Justice begins with pain. Rise.]

Kael pushed himself up, chains rattling. Every movement burned like fire. His branded back throbbed, lightning crawling through the veins beneath his skin. 

The pain became light, blue, pulsing, flowing down his arms into the iron shackles. He looked at his hands. The chains were glowing. [First Gift Unlocked: Sin Gauge.]

Kael gasped as symbols flashed across his vision. Above every shadow, faint numbers hovered, some low, some impossibly high. 

The drunks nearby, the guards resting under a canopy, all carried sin like smoke around them. “What… is this?”

[Measure of guilt. Measure of truth.]

The voice faded, leaving the night too quiet. Kael staggered to his feet. The storm had ended, but thunder still echoed in his bones. 

He dragged his chains behind him, every step leaving a trail of blood and defiance.

A torch flared. “Still alive?” sneered a guard, the same who had laughed loudest during the branding. “You should’ve stayed down.”

Kael said nothing. His eyes lifted, and for the first time he saw it, above the man’s head, glowing faintly: [Sin Level: 37.]

He didn’t know what the number meant. But he knew it wasn’t good. “Want another beating?” the guard taunted, raising his whip. “Or maybe you’d rather crawl?”

Kael’s voice was low, trembling with fury. “How many did you sell? How many miners to the pits?”

The guard froze. “What did you?”

The chain moved. Fast. Too fast. Kael’s arm snapped, and the iron whip coiled around the man’s throat. 

The sound of choking filled the alley. Kael’s body acted on instinct, raw and wild. He pulled, lightning sparking where steel met flesh.

The guard’s eyes bulged. His boots scraped helplessly against the stone. [Judgment Executed.]

Light burst through the chain, blue and white. The body went limp. Kael stumbled back, gasping.

The System’s voice whispered again, gentle as rain. [Sin Level reduced. Glory granted.]

Warmth surged through him, burning away fatigue. The world sharpened, the scent of wet iron, the flicker of torches, the faint hum under his skin.

Kael looked down at his hands, trembling. “What… have I done?”

[Justice delivered.]

He almost laughed, broken, bitter laughter that tore from his chest. “Justice? This is murder.”

[Injustice demands payment. You chose the price.]

Kael’s jaw clenched. The System’s calm tone filled him with dread, and something worse, a quiet satisfaction. 

He knelt beside the dead guard, staring into the vacant eyes. “Then teach me,” he whispered. “Teach me how to make them pay.”

Hours passed. Dawn crept over the slums, painting rust-colored light across the cracked walls. Kael’s body ached, but strength simmered beneath the pain.

He found a cloak by the guard’s cart and pulled it over himself. His reflection shimmered in a puddle, bloodstained, eyes hollow, yet alive. 

For the first time since his branding, he looked at himself and saw not a victim, but a weapon.

[“Next Target Assigned: Overseer Ryn Havel.]

Kael’s heart hammered. The man who destroyed his life. The man who branded him. The System was offering him a chance to strike back. He gripped the glowing chain. “Then it begins.”

The Iron Quarters were awake before sunrise. Hammers rang, smoke rose, and men shouted orders. 

The overseer’s mansion loomed above the workers, white stone, gilded gates, built on the backs of those who starved below it.

Kael moved through the alleys, hood pulled low. Every person he passed carried flickering numbers above their heads, sin everywhere, seeping through the city like poison.

He stopped at the gate. Two guards stood there, laughing over their cups. “Heard they branded another thief,” one said. “Name sounded familiar.”

“Kael something? Yeah. Dead, probably.”

Kael’s mouth curved. “Not dead enough.”

He stepped from the shadows. The chain flicked, one strike, two. Metal bit through armor like water through cloth. The guards collapsed before their cups hit the ground.

He pushed through the gate, heart pounding. Inside, the mansion glowed with lamplight. The air reeked of perfume and greed. 

Kael’s boots left wet footprints on the polished floor as he moved down the corridor. Voices drifted from the study. 

“The mine profits will triple once the shipments go east,” Ryn Havel said, laughter thick with wine. “Those fools in the lower ward won’t dare protest again.”

Kael’s hand tightened around his chain. He stepped into the doorway. The overseer froze mid-sip. The goblet fell, spilling red across his robe like fresh blood. “You!”

Kael’s voice was ice. “You branded me.”

Ryn stumbled back, eyes wide. “You were supposed to be dead!”

Kael’s chain uncoiled with a metallic hiss. Lightning danced along its links. “So were you.”

Ryn reached for the pistol at his desk, but Kael moved first. The chain lashed out, wrapping around his wrist. The man screamed as the metal seared through flesh, sparks crackling.

[Judgment in Progress.]

“Stop! I’ll pay you! Double, no, triple!” Ryn shouted, eyes wild. “You want gold? Take it! Take it all!”

Kael’s eyes burned with stormlight. “I don’t want your gold. I want your truth.”

He yanked the chain. The overseer crashed into the desk, papers scattering. Kael’s grip tightened until the man’s begging turned into gurgling.

[Judgment Complete]

Kael staggered back as visions flooded his mind, images of nobles exchanging coins, priests chanting over miners’ corpses, and a single name whispered again and again: Alaric Vorn.

The light faded. The overseer slumped lifeless against the desk. Kael fell to his knees, gasping. The System’s hum lingered, soft and eerie.

[You have taken your first step]

Kael wiped blood from his cheek, staring at his trembling hands. He wanted to feel guilt. He wanted to feel peace. But all he felt was the storm growing stronger inside him.

Lightning flashed through the window. The rain began again. Kael turned toward the door.

A voice came from behind him, cold and smooth. “Impressive. Most men die after their first judgment.”

Kael spun. A figure stood in the doorway, tall, cloaked, face hidden, eyes glinting faintly with gold. “Who are you?” Kael demanded.

The stranger smiled. “The one who’ll decide if you live long enough to survive your second.”