We enter the city just as the sun fully disappears.
At first... it looks normal.
Almost too normal.
There are streets lined with food stalls, small restaurants, even fast food chains lit up with bright signs. People walk around casually, talking, eating, living their lives like any other place.
Tall buildings rise around us, clean and modern, stretching high into the night.
"...What are those buildings?"
"Oh," the driver says, glancing ahead. "Those are residential towers for Judges. You can think of them as private condos... along with housing for clerical staff and others who work here."
"Oh... they're free housing?"
"Yes, Miss."
I look up again, following the height of the buildings.
"So... who lives at the top?"
"Mostly high-ranking officials of the Land of Truth—the Minister, and even the current Judge."
...Wow... well, damn.
"Ah... they have street food here too," I say, spotting a stall.
"Yes, Miss. They have everything here."
"...Hmm. Not bad."
The car keeps moving deeper into the city, and then I see it—right in the center, the Solis Sanctum rising above everything else.
A massive dome made entirely of crystal, glowing in the night like a second moon suspended in the sky.
It floats high above the plaza below, casting a soft, steady light over the entire city.
Beams of light descend from the Sanctum, cutting cleanly through the air and connecting to the ground below.
At first, they look like nothing more than light—but as one of them opens and people step inside, I realize...
They're elevators.
The car slows as we approach the central plaza beneath it.
The driver steps out and moves to escort me toward one of the light elevators.
We step inside, and he taps the panel.
9th floor.
"This is as far as I go, Ms. Luna. You'll meet Madame Margaret there."
Madame...?
Why is he calling her that...?
Who are you, Grandma...?
I have so many questions.
The elevator hums softly as it begins to rise, light surrounding us.
That's when I notice it—the display along the side.
146 floors.
146 floors?!? What the hell do they need that many for? Are they hiding something...?
This is very sus.
Do Judges have to, like... level up and climb to the top floors or something?
...Nah, that's so stupid.
I let out a small laugh.
The elevator slows, and when the doors slide open, Grandma is already waiting for me.
"Grandma—"
Before I can say anything else, she pulls me into a tight hug. It catches me off guard for a second, but I melt into it anyway.
"You must be very tired. Do you want a quick break?"
I pull back slightly, looking at her. "...Grandma... why did our meeting have to be like this? And you already know what my answer is... you know me well enough to know I'd want the answers now."
"I know. But maybe you still want a moment to breathe." A soft chuckle escapes her, followed by a small nod. "...Alright. Follow me."
We step into another elevator, and this time it moves downward—far down.
When the doors open, I stop as the space in front of me unfolds into what looks like an underground garden.
A soft glow spreads across the space, coming from the ground, the flowers, even the air itself. Everything feels still... really quiet.
White flowers stretch across the ground in clusters, their yellow centers catching the light faintly.
And in the middle of it all... there's a tree.
It isn't ordinary. Its branches stretch outward and downward, long and low enough to reach. From them hang countless small lights, scattered like leaves, each one glowing softly—steady, but alive.
I move closer, drawn in.
"...Wow... this tree is insanely beautiful, Grandma. What is it?"
She steps beside me.
"This... is the Tree of Life."
My eyes follow the branches, drawn to the lights.
"Each one you see corresponds to a Judge's life."
I lean in closer to one of them, taking a closer look.
"...Grandma... how come some of them are brighter... and some look faint? Does that mean the younger Judges have brighter lights... and the older ones start to fade?"
She shakes her head.
"The brightness doesn't reflect age. It reflects their state."
I look back at the branch.
"A strong, bright light means the Judge is well. Healthy. When a light begins to fade... it means something is wrong."
Some lights glow clearly. Others are dim... barely holding on.
"The fainter the light... the more severe their condition. Illness... weakness... or something worse."
Grandma moves along the branch, stopping at a cluster of lower-hanging lights.
"Now... to answer your question. How did the Judges know you were meant to be the next one?"
She gestures toward one of the glowing leaves.
"This... shows us. Tell me... what do you see?"
I lean in, and at first it's just light—but then it shifts, and images begin to form.
Fragments of a life.
A newborn... small hands, unsteady steps... then older, growing, moving forward. Moments pass—before university, then university—not everything, just pieces.
"This was me!"
"Yes, that's you. That is how we knew."
I pull back slightly, still trying to process it.
"...So what happened? Why didn't I turn?"
"We are still uncertain... even now. There is something called the Voice of Truth. Did you hear anything? An inner voice asking you to choose?"
"...No. Was I supposed to?"
"Yes. A Judge is always given a choice. It must be accepted freely... with complete certainty. If there is even the slightest wavering in the heart... the transformation does not occur."
Huh... that's why one of the former Judges asked me if I rejected it.
"Grandma, I really didn't hear anything. And even if I did... I wouldn't have become a Judge. I never wanted to be one in the first place.
...I'm sorry if I failed you..."
"I know." Her hand reaches up, gently tapping and ruffling the top of my hair. "And that is more than fine."
"But shouldn't my hair have still turned deep blue?" I frown slightly, thinking it through.
"...Even if I didn't want to be a Judge, it should've changed anyway, right? Maybe the Voice of Truth already knew I didn't want to be one... so it just skipped it?"
"You're right. Those who refuse, or aren't completely certain, still undergo a change. Their hair turns deep blue, and they're assigned to clerical duties instead. A lot of people turn down becoming a Judge—you're not the only one.
…We've never seen anyone remain completely unchanged."
"...Okay... wait a minute, Grandma." I frown slightly. "How do you know all of this? I've been wondering that for a while now... And why did the driver call you Madame? How were you even able to enter the Sanctum...?"
I look at her, trying to make sense of it.
"...Who are you, Grandma?"
She lets out a soft laugh and walks around the tree, stopping at the other side before gesturing toward one of the lights.
I look at it—
was that Grandma?
"...You were a Judge?!?"
She laughs, fuller this time, one hand resting against her stomach. "Was. I used to be quite something back then too, you know..."
"...This is crazy to me... we lived in a small village... what happened?"
"Being a Judge was fulfilling... important, but everything changed when the former Minister of Judges brought you to us. You were just a baby. He told us you had been abandoned, but you were found through the Tree of Life, and he asked if any of us would take you in... and I already knew it would be me. By then, I had served as a Judge for nearly twenty years, so I made my decision—I would take you in and step down, choosing a quiet life away from everything to protect you... and to prepare you for this moment."
Yeah… that's Grandma for you.
"Come... we still have more to see."
We head back toward the elevator, and as we start going up to the higher floors, I glance at the panel again.
"...Grandma... by the way... why are there 146 floors here? Isn't that a bit too many?"
She looks ahead as the elevator continues to rise, a small smile on her lips.
"It's because the Sanctum is divided. Each section serves a different purpose... clerical, restricted, and others you're not meant to access yet. You've only seen the beginning."
The doors open to a different floor. Rows of desks fill the space, papers stacked, screens lit, people moving quietly as they work. Their hair is deep blue, darker than the Judges, and their clothing is simple—dark, fitted, made for work.
These are the clerical floors... they handle everything behind the scenes—records, judgments, archives, logistics. Every decision made by a Judge passes through here.
"...So they keep everything running?"
"Yes, without them... the system wouldn't hold."
We step back into the elevator and go higher. When the doors open again, it leads into a long hall with framed pictures lining both sides of the walls, stretching far ahead.
"This is the Hall of Memories," Grandma says. "The people you see here... are all former and current Judges."
I take my time looking around as we walk. Most of them I don't recognize. They weren't in the history books I studied.
Then I spot one.
"...Ah... there you are."
Grandma.
I pause for a moment before continuing, letting my eyes move from one frame to the next.
Rhea Calypso. Phoebe Helene. Pandora Dione. Further down, Janus Atlas.
...Ah—these were the Judges at the attunement ceremony.
Then Ananke Carme.
...Ananke...? Why does that name feel familiar...?
I keep walking until the last frame comes into view.
Ganymede Io.
Grandma steps beside me.
"...So this is the current judge, Judge Io. She's been serving for almost twenty years now, and her record is clean... consistent. She's fair with her judgments, careful with every decision she makes. She doesn't take them lightly... and she carries them well."
I look at the portrait again.
There's something in the way Grandma talks about her... like she has complete confidence in her.
We continue forward, and the hall opens into a wider space. There's a front desk near the entrance, with long tables spread across the room and documents laid out in neat rows. It almost looks like a library.
The people here have deep blue hair, but their clothing is different—lighter tones, grey and white, layered but not as formal as the Judges.
One of them approaches us.
"Madame."
Grandma gives a small nod. "Could you show her around?"
They turn to me. "Of course."
We walk further in as they begin to explain the layout. "There are different sections here... some hold records, others are kept for reference."
We pass a smaller area lined with shelves filled with books—older records, preserved over time, not used often but still kept. Beyond that, the space shifts. Larger objects are placed along the floor, each one enclosed behind clear glass.
A guillotine stands there—full-sized. Beside it, a heavy axe mounted on display, chains laid out in sections, and other tools arranged nearby. Smaller instruments rest on raised displays, each one carefully set apart.
I slow slightly as I take it in.
"These are preserved instruments. Tools used in past executions. The severity depends on the decision... some date back much further than others."
"...So... these were actually used before...? For sentencing people?"
They give a small nod. "Yes, Miss. They were used in past executions... when the sentence required it."
We continue walking. Another section opens up, filled with rows of documents, people moving through them quietly, sorting and organizing.
"These are past judgments," they explain. "Everything is recorded and stored here."
At the far end, the space changes. The walkway narrows, the lighting dims slightly, and I can see guards standing further ahead, still and watchful.
"...What's that over there?"
The person guiding us glances in that direction. "That area is restricted. Only current and former Judges are allowed inside."
"...Restricted...?"
Grandma steps forward. "It's alright. She needs to see this."
They pause, then nod. "...Understood, Madame."
We continue down the narrowed path, the air feeling heavier the closer we get until we reach the guards and one of them steps forward.
"Authorization."
Grandma reaches into her sleeve and takes out a sleek metallic card, faint lines of light running across its surface, and hands it over. The guard looks at it, then at me.
"She's with me," Grandma says.
"...Understood, Madame Advisor." The guard steps aside.
We step inside, and the door closes behind us, sealing the space off from everything outside. The room is wide and quiet, with a large white screen standing at the center.
"...What is that for?"
"We are inside the Chamber of Wrongful Verdicts. This is where we show the memories extracted from Judges who made the wrong verdicts... ones that led to their own death."
I look at the screen again, taking it in.
...That's right.
Being a Judge isn't easy. They make it look like something powerful... something people would want, but there's a cost.
A Judge can sentence someone to death—sometimes it happens quickly, depending on the method of execution. Some are immediate, like a clean execution... others are more controlled, where the body is simply shut down.
And once that sentence is carried out... if that person turns out to be innocent, the Judge dies too—instantly, without warning. Their heart simply stops. A life for a life.
"...So these are the cases where they got it completely wrong."
"Yes... these are the judgments that were carried out... but should not have been."
"...Is it okay to see one?"
"Of course. We can show you one of the more recent cases... though it happened over twenty years ago. It involved a former Judge—Ananke Carme."
The screen stays blank for a moment as they continue.
"The defendants were from a prominent clan. Their leader, his wife, and several of his members were put on trial for ordering the execution of a rival clan. They were accused of burning an entire village—men, women, and children included."
Then the screen begins to shift, the white surface coming to life as the memory starts to play. I watch as they continue explaining what happened.
"The evidence presented at the time was highly convincing. There were no visible flaws, no contradictions... everything aligned. Witness accounts, physical traces, and testimonies all pointed to the same conclusion. It was considered proven beyond reasonable doubt."
"Judge Ananke Carme delivered the verdict. The leader, his wife, and the members who carried out the order were all sentenced to death... by burning—the same method they were accused of using."
The memory continues to play in silence.
"And once the sentence was carried out... the truth was revealed, and after the last of them died, Judge Ananke Carme died as well."
"…May I know the name of this prominent clan?"
"Yes. They were Adrian and Elara…
of the House of Sinclair."
My heart drops.
I can't speak.
I don't even realize I'm crying—
until I am.
These were Eline's parents.
All of a sudden, I feel a gentle rub against my back.
It's Grandma.
"I know you and Eline Sinclair are together... and I know how much she means to you," she says softly. "She probably doesn't know everything that happened to her parents... not the full truth. That's why I wanted you to see this, so you could understand what really happened during the trial."
I take a breath, trying to steady myself.
"Yeah... she didn't know all of it. It feels like people only told her parts of the story... just enough, but never the whole truth. All she really knows is that her parents were innocent... because of what happened to the Judge."
I wipe my tears and take a breath. "Thank you for showing me this... for showing me the truth. Now I can tell her what really happened.
...I know it's been years, but I still want to try. I hope with what I know now... we can still find justice for her parents."
Grandma gives me a moment to collect myself. I stay there for a while, eyes on the screen, thinking about Eline.
"...Grandma... I'm ready now."
"Alright. There's one more place I need to show you."
We thank the person who had been guiding us, and this time, we head toward the highest floor of the Sanctum.
The elevator comes to a stop, and when the doors open, it looks like another garden, but this one feels different. There are more flowers spread across the space in soft colors, and a small waterfall flows nearby, its sound filling the air in a quiet, calming way. It feels... peaceful.
As we step in, I begin to notice them—crystal chambers arranged carefully throughout the garden, each one slightly slanted and resting naturally among the surroundings, a soft light glowing from within. Inside, there are bodies, laid back gently as if resting, still and at peace.
"...What is this place?"
"We are in the Garden of Eternity."
I glance back at the chambers. "...What are they?"
"This is where we lay the Judges to rest. Their bodies are preserved here... after their time has ended."
"...What?!? These are... dead bodies? Like a cemetery, Grandma?"
She lets out a soft chuckle. "Yes... in a way."
"...How come they never mentioned this in the history books?"
"To protect them... This is a sacred place. We don't want people from other lands—or even most within our own—to know about it."
My eyes drift back to the chambers, something still not quite settling. "...What do you mean by preserved? You mean... literally preserved?"
"Yes. Those crystal chambers are designed to stop the body from decaying. What you're seeing... is exactly how they were at the moment they died. Some of them may have died years ago... even longer, but they remain the same. And those who passed more recently... they appear just as they did in their final moment." Her gaze moves across the garden. "That's why it's called the Garden of Eternity."
I take that in quietly, looking at the rows of chambers, at the stillness of it all.
"So now you know where I'll be laid to rest… once it's my time," she says, almost joking.
I turn to her immediately. "Nah... You have a long life ahead of you—like a sea turtle." We both laugh.
We make our way back down through the Sanctum. It's bigger than I thought—far bigger. Everything I've seen, everything I've learned... it all blends together, and at some point, I completely lose track of time until I finally glance at the time and realize it's already almost 11 PM.
"Oh—wow, Grandma... it's really late."
She smiles slightly. "I had a feeling this would happen, so I arranged a room for both of us. We can stay here for the night."
We head toward one of the tall buildings we passed earlier and check in there.
"...Grandma, is there a way I could contact someone outside? I need to reach Eline... she must be worried."
Grandma shakes her head gently. "No. Communication here is very restricted. This entire place is a no-signal zone. We do have phones, but they only connect within the Sanctum and the city itself—nothing beyond that. It's intentional—the Sanctum was designed to be completely secluded so judgments made here remain untouched, free from outside influence, pressure, or interference. After what happened with Ananke Carme... they tightened everything, so now nothing gets in... and nothing gets out."
"Ugh... what do I do? Eline must be going crazy by now."
"Don't worry. I asked the driver who dropped you off to let your friends know, so they can tell Eline."
"...Okay. Thanks, Grandma."
Grandma makes her way to her room, but I stop to grab a hot meal first before heading up.
When I get to my room, I set my things down and start eating. The place is nice—a high-rise with a clear view of the city below, the lights stretching out into the distance, the quiet from up here making everything feel a little more distant.
Today was a lot. Everything I learned, everything I saw—Eline's parents, the Judges, the system... it all feels overwhelming, like my mind is trying to process too much at once and can't keep up.
I lean back slightly, letting out a slow breath, the weight of it all settling in.
I'm tired.
I wish Eline was here. She has this way of grounding me, of making everything feel calmer, like no matter how chaotic things get, being with her is enough to quiet everything down.
In a world like this…
she's the only one who brings me peace.