When Judgement Comes For You Novels & Stories

he replied "so how does judgement work? " I asked. "you're deeds will be scaled, if the good out weighs the bad, you will be sent to Argon the after life by the sun, if not, the realm of Set realm, were vigra is near " he finished . I nodded, I couldn't help but feel sad that I wouldn't be able to see my child when she comes into the world, or Anna again. I wondered where she was, was she alone? I knew she must have gone to Abigail's cottage in the mountains.

The judgment's resonance lingered—a haunting melody that echoed within the vast emptiness of the room, amplifying the gravity of the consequences of his deeds. In the solitude of the courtroom's emptiness, Ejay found himself grappling with the profound ramifications of his actions. The silence bore witness to the turmoil within him as he contemplated the irreversible course his life had taken—a life now dictated by the sentence handed down. The weight of the judgment gnawed at his conscience, each echo a reminder of the choices that led him to this solitary moment. Alone in the quiet aftermath, he pondered the far-reaching implications of his deeds, the regret of opportunities lost, and the

“What are they teaching you in Eden? It’s a well known fact that Supervisors can’t detect Deformations. Only a Judge can.” “Then if you can, have a Judge judge me.” “When is your 18th birthday, Breeder C?” “Th-three days.” “So, knowing that you can only be judged by a Judge and not until your 18th birthday, why would you make this suggestion? A Judge’s duties is to judge each 18-year-old as they enter a packhouse or to kill potential Dysmorphisms.” “Then why are you concerned what I am. Aren’t you here as a request from the Supervisors to assist with our lessons?”

It was a decision she had to weigh thoughtfully, considering not only the severity of his crimes but also the potential for change. When the moment of judgment arrived, the judge delivered her verdict with a measured tone, her words echoing through the courtroom. She acknowledged Matteo's admissions and his desire to change, but she also emphasized the gravity of his crimes. She pronounced a sentence that would hold him accountable for his actions while allowing a chance for rehabilitation.

But when we arrived in the judgment hall and saw her enter confidently, I started to doubt, and that doubt was confirmed soon after. This room, commonly called the "judgment hall," is a tribunal where the worst criminals or traitors to the nation are judged. The only possible sentence is death. In this room, you either walk out free, or you die, and it’s extremely rare for an accused brought here to walk out free. At first glance, the room isn’t that extraordinary. There are just high tribunes, thirteen in number, in front, benches on both sides. To the left of the tribunes is for the prosecution, and to the right is for the defense. In the middle, there’s a carpet, probably for the accused,

“In the next two hours, Judgment will begin. Your fate lies in your palms, choose wisely.” Tension crackles in the air, all eyes on me. Tbc.

I fired. “You should be grateful you aren't dead, because any minute from now you'll be called upon for judgment.” Called upon for judgment? I wondered to myself. “What judgment?” “You'll be sentenced to death by hanging for trespassing. Maybe next time, you'll have to learn how to mind your roads.” I staggered back, leaving the door to my position. I was beginning to wonder if I had made a mistake fleeing, or if I had only ended up to my doom. Was I too forward in my decision? Because for no reason I was going to be killed any moment from now.

"Nobody, summoned or otherwise, can withstand the heat of the Palace of Judgment without assistance." The bowl emits soft silver steam as the steam rises upward and transforms into tiny glowing birds before fading away and I watch them disappear. My mind struggles to process everything. Judges. Summons. A palace. Heat capable of destroying souls, death apparently not being the end, I don't know which part frightens me most. "I really don't know what to say right now." The figure gives a short nod. "Then stop talking." Surprisingly, there is no cruelty in the statement, only practicality.

"You're blocking me. If I'm supposed to judge him, I need to know him. You're stopping me." "You need to become him, whelp. The judgment isn't yours to call. You must feel him, then after the act you can know what he believes himself to deserve. That's the tricky part. We are never the judge, we are the executioner." The Throne felt something hook into his auric signature. "Brat! Hear me. You need to surrender to it now or you risk pulling me into the past with you!"

I just hope they consider me. "You can all go now. If you make it to the second stage, you will be called for an interview and if you are not, just know you are disqualified for obvious reasons." The mean judge announced and everyone dispersed. I hope I win. That will be the beginning of my success.