Some trials don't need a judge. The rules do the killing for them.
Ash rose like wrong snow and curled into the bell frame. The oval under it held, black-on-bright, a door that wanted to be somewhere else. Vox stood at the lip as if he'd rented the spot, axe balanced lazy on his shoulder, grin the temperature of a knife left in shade.
"Prove it," he said, and let the grin fade.
The air answered before anyone else could.
[DOMAIN ESTABLISHED — VOX'S GATE]Arbiter: noneTime remaining (zone attrition): 23:22:11Lawset applies within ring radius 12 m.
— LAW 1: No lethal force. All lethal intent converts to pain + displacement.— LAW 2: Passage cap: 3 living entries (Bound constructs do not count).— LAW 3: Passage requires Three Holds on frame anchors, simultaneous for 7.0s.— LAW 4: Contact by Ash Collector during hold = failure (reset).— LAW 5: On closure, locked actors remain in-zone (attrition continues).
Anchors bled into being around the door's rim: three pale brands on old metal—left, right, apex. The bell frame bowed an imperceptible fraction, as if remembering what weight was.
Nor's jaw set. The cloth around his palm had charred to lace. The heat beneath it made the air twitch.
[CLAIM: Bearer Sigil — Custodian: NOR]Side-effect TOLL: –Grip 10% / –Stamina Regen 15% / Pain spikes on activation.
Euthymia slid the scarf low enough to breathe, then back up. "Seven seconds is generous."
"Not with thieves," Kade said.
Red Scarf's laugh came thin from the slope. "Standing invitation, then." He spun his spear once. His bowman limped behind him, face pinched. Thread-Burns flexed hands banded with old burns.
The Mist Horse lifted its ugly head, vapor sluicing over bone. It stared at the Gate like it recognized a stable it had never seen.
"Bound constructs don't count," Kade said softly. "You're with me."
The Horse blew a line of cold that outlined nothing. It was answer enough.
Vox hopped off the lip and landed inside the ring. The axe never touched ground. "No judge," he said, almost kind. "Only rules."
He walked past Red Scarf as if the man were a display. Red scowled and smiled at the same time. "You volunteering to hold one, proctor?"
Vox didn't stop. "I already did."
He tapped the frame with the axe's blunt. The anchors brightened.
"Go," Kade said.
They spread: Nor took the left—closest to his damaged hand, uglier to hold; Euthy the apex, where footing was worst; Kade the right, lines of attack most crowded.
The Collectors understood the Gate like predators understand a bleeding animal. Robes slid in, hands out, not for throats—for ankles and wrists. The Alpha's crown of grit glimmered where ash caught it. It tested the ring and did not cross. Lawset held it at the edge like a leash.
Red Scarf crossed with a laugh and lost it immediately. Pain flared around his spear-tip; the Law twisted intent and the tip knocked him flat on his back, breath gone, eyes small.
"Forgot you can't kill in here," Euthy said, and vaulted onto a sliver of cracked stone that pretended to be a step.
Kade hit the right anchor with his palm. The brand bit through glove as if it were honest skin.
[HOLD 1/3 — timer latent (waiting for 2&3)]
Pressure thrummed into his bones, steady, not cruel. He could have done seven minutes. Seven seconds would be fine.
He saw the problem at the apex immediately. There was no ground for more than three heartbeats at a time. Euthy made heartbeats look longer than they were, but not infinite. The only real angle was ugly: off the bell frame's inner lip, one foot, hips braced against nothing, the other foot searching for a lie that would hold. She shifted twice and found it.
[HOLD 2/3 — apex ready]
"Nor," Kade called.
Nor's mouth thinned. He shed the lace and put the bare palm on the left brand.
Soundless scream—metal through bone through nerves. His back didn't arch; his face didn't change; his breath did.
[HOLD 3/3 — all anchors engaged]Simultaneity window: 7.0sFailure on: Collector contact / grip break / lethal intent.
"Seven," Euthy said.
A Collector's hand slid from the sand and reached for Kade's ankle. Duskveil moved faster than his leg—threads sewing the wrist to a slab that didn't want to be helpful. Stone cracked under the Law like it had stopped agreeing.
"Six."
Red Scarf wheezed up and tried to trip Kade with a spear-shaft. Pain convulsed his own leg; the Law flung him three steps backward. He laughed again because that was cheaper than dignity.
"Five."
Nor's fingers trembled under the brand. He planted his shoulder into the frame to bleed weight into steel. The smell of cooked leather came back in a wave and got lost in the cold.
[TOLL spike — Pain +30% for custodian | Regen locked]
"Four."
The Mist Horse put itself between Kade and two robes that wanted him. It didn't kick. It just stood like a promise. Cold spread under its hooves; ash skated and fell upward like flakes in slow reverse.
"Three."
The apex step abandoned Euthy for a heartbeat. She didn't leave. She found vertical with shoulder, ring with boot edge, frame with a knife's spine jammed into an improbable seam. It held because she said so.
"Two."
Thread-Burns came for Nor—palms open, not killing, but killing if the Law forgot itself. Vox appeared between them like a shrug you couldn't step through. He didn't swing. He didn't need to. Thread-Burns bounced off something that wasn't there and found himself outside the ring without remembering walking.
"One."
The Alpha extended its hand at Kade's calf. This time the ash didn't shape. It simply took. Duskveil whined; the Horse braced; Kade's foot slid toward elegant failure.
He took his hand off the brand to kill the grab.
He didn't.
He left it. He told the threads to do what his hand wanted to and what his hand didn't have time to.
They did.
The wrist cracked against the stone that had always been under the sand. The Law ate the lethal angle. Data rolled over Kade's skin like heat. The timer rolled over with it.
[HOLD COMPLETE — 7.0s reached]
The brands flared white and went dead.
[PASSAGE CONDITION MET]Gate stability: rising (low → moderate)Slot count remaining: 3 (Bound constructs carry with owner)Timer: 23:21:15
The door widened to a man-and-a-horse wide. Cold air knifed out, high and dry, tasting of elevation and rust.
Red Scarf swore softly, almost impressed. The bowman laughed once like a cough. Thread-Burns stared at Vox as if the rules had been personal.
"Three," Vox said. "And only three."
Kade flexed his fingers once, twice. The brand mark on his palm would be an echo, not a scar. He looked at Rase.
Rase didn't meet his eyes. "I don't pass tests," he said. "I make exits."
"You made this one," Euthy said.
He shook his head. "Not my ring." He glanced at the Collectors milling the edge like bored saints. "Not my sky."
Kade didn't argue. He respected cowardice that knew its own shape. "Don't die," he said.
"I'll try not to be here when the timer hits zero," Rase said, and gave the Horse a look like prayer he was embarrassed to be seen doing.
Nor exhaled and unhooked his palm from the frame. The skin was a map of light and ruined lines. He flexed once and found everything worked, badly.
[TOLL persists for custodian | duration: undefined]
"Will it come with you?" Euthy asked, chin toward his hand.
"Probably," Nor said, which meant yes.
The Collectors pressed closer. The Law held them off the lip like a patient policeman. It wouldn't hold forever. It wasn't built for forever.
"Move," Kade said.
Vox blocked the mouth of the Gate with a single step. Not menacing. Decisive. "Tell me something," he said to Kade. "When the rule is ugly and the door won't open unless someone pays, do you pay for the others or do you charge them rent."
"I don't ask for rent," Kade said. "I collect interest."
Vox's grin returned, small, real. "Good answer."
He stepped aside.
Euthy went first, because she hated to be pushed. The door accepted her in a ripple of cold. Nor followed, shoulders tight, burned hand against his chest.
Kade looked at the Mist Horse. It looked back like a bad idea you loved anyway. "With me," he said.
Vox's axe kissed Kade's shoulder as he passed, light touch, not a cut. "You kept your hand on the brand," Vox said, conversational. "That matters."
"Only if someone was watching," Kade said.
Vox's eyes creased. "Someone always is."
Kade stepped into cold.
The world above the market was wrong in the way new things are wrong: thin air that tasted like brass, light that didn't know where to stand, gravity that had been argued with and lost on points. Platforms hung like regrets and promises, some upside down and still useful. Lines of force ran like cobwebs and wind.
[ZONE TRANSFER — UPPER GROUNDS]Entry: 3 (Kade + Nor + Euthymia; Bound construct: Mist Horse)Objective issued: ASCEND SKY REACHLocal modifiers: Gravity flux (±30%); Falls: vector-dependent; Air currents: navigable
Kade's boots hit a platform that wasn't horizontal in a way that counted. He swayed and caught himself on a ring-bolt that had once held a chain. The Mist Horse hit beside him, skull tossing, vapor painting a temporary path over nothing.
Nor came through and dropped to one knee without drama, catching breath the way men catch fall. Euthy stood at the lip and looked at a line of air like it pleased her.
Behind them, the Gate flickered. It didn't close. It thinned, as if ashamed of being open.
On the far side, Vox stood in the Basin with the rules wrapped around his ankles like patient dogs. Red Scarf leaned on his spear, thinking about a life that didn't include doors. The Collectors watched without blinking and never had.
"Welcome," Vox called, not loud, in a voice built for stone. "Keep going up."
He lifted two fingers, the same gesture as before—you first. Then he dropped them, and the Gate became tall, narrow night.
The bell frame exhaled one last time. The ash that had been rising fell up faster and then ceased to exist.
Kade rolled his shoulders. Duskveil flexed under his ribs with something like relief. The platform hummed faintly, deep note through bone.
"New rules," Euthy said, eyes on the currents.
"Same hunger," Nor said, and wrapped his burned hand tighter.
"Up," Kade said.
He meant it.
Wind carved a path across nothing, sleek and bright. Something big moved in it—feather, bone, and intent. The air's pressure changed the way it does when predators think you don't see them yet.