Maya didn't flinch as the others hit the ground behind her. She stood with her hands in the pockets of her suit, jaw tilted slightly up, her dark eyes narrowed—not in fear, but in irritation. She looked up at Judgement, her gaze cutting through the marble veil like she was tired of being tested.
"Oh please, Judgment" she said, voice sharp and low like a knife being drawn in velvet. "Control yourself."
It wasn't a shout.
It wasn't even a command.
It was a statement—like she was correcting a child throwing a tantrum in public.
The pressure vanished.
Just like that.
Gone.
The divine weight, the soul-shattering gravity, the heart-pounding silence—it all evaporated into the evening air like steam, leaving behind only the hum of the estate's lights and the sound of the wind brushing over the trees again. Above, the statue of Judgement remained still. But if marble could look offended, she would have.
And yet—she obeyed.
