The room Michael was in was smaller than the large courtroom, but also highly out of the ordinary. It was moonlit with candles drifting and incense smoke curling, and it produced a cold, silvery light. There was a stone and glass table in the center with symbols etched into the bottom. Eliza Moon was at the far end of the table.
She appeared even more breathtaking when you approached her. She was not intimidating, but wonderfully elegant. Her transparent form glowed gently, as if it were constructed of light and sorrow. Her eyes indicated a history of emotions—grief, longing, and a hint of hope. When she spoke, her voice was gentle, but full of the need to be heard.
"You don't believe me," she told him.
Michael folded his arms and leaned against the table. "I don't trust anyone. It's the work."
Eliza did not wince. "Then why volunteer to assist me?"
"Because I like impossible cases," he muttered through a wrinkle of a smile. "And something about this screams 'set up.'"
Eliza stepped ahead, her movement quietly ruffling the air. "The temple is significant to my family. My mother, father, and little brother are in there. I go there only to speak to them. I never hurt anyone."
Michael scrunched up his face. "But the priests say they heard voices, experienced terrible visions. One of them actually attempted to blind himself."
"That wasn't me," she said as softly but assertively as she could. "I never intended to scare anyone. I. I just missed them."
There was a pause. The ghost shimmered faintly with the effort of emotion.
Michael gazed at her for an instant. He had earned his living on knowing people—deceit also had a form and a design. Eliza, however, spoke as if she had rehearsed the truth repeatedly, in the hope that somebody would eventually listen.
Nevertheless, this was not an Earth court, and the rules were most likely stranger than he could have imagined.
"Okay," he finally said. "I will check out the temple. But if I find anything that suggests otherwise, you're on your own."
Eliza nodded, feeling a sense of relief. "Thank you, Michael."
---
The Temple of Yusei was situated atop a hill of jade rock, surrounded by ethereal trees and gentle winds. It was a wondrous structure, constructed of white marble and purple crystal, softly radiating in the endless twilight of this world.
Michael approached cautiously. The closer he got, the tighter the air seemed to be—like the air itself was cautioning him to retreat. He halted at the temple gates, where three robed figures emerged.
"Say your name," the tallest of them snapped, his amber eyes clenching. Golden fire was embroidered into his robe, and the runes that encircled his wrists glowed warily.
Michael smiled weakly. "I'm Michael Yoon. I'm here for the Beyond Court to cover the Eliza Moon case."
"The ghost?" barked another priest—young, with tempest-grey eyes and a trembling jaw. "She haunts these grounds!"
The senior priest stepped forward. "I am High Priest Thalen. This is Acolyte Ren and Sister Val. We have had some problems since the spirit began to appear. You're wasting your time."
"That's my specialty," Michael replied, walking around them.
Inside, the temple was both beautiful and a little scary. The main hall had walls with carvings of spirits and godlike fighters, and a long path leading to an altar covered in silver bells and purple lotus flowers.
"Identify where it occurred," Michael requested.
Thalen looked at the others. He then beckoned him to go down a hallway.
They stepped into a prayer room—smaller, darker, and colder. Michael sensed the drop in temperature immediately.
"It was here," Acolyte Ren breathed. "The first time. I heard her. The voice."
Michael spun around. "What did she say?"
Ren was extremely pale. "She spoke a name. 'Zion.' Repeatedly. Then the walls began to bleed."
Michael's eyebrow went up. "Bleeding?"
Sister Val shook her head. "Blood poured from the runes. Visions of war. Screaming. Shadows in every corner." She shivered. "We warded the room with light. But the nightmares have not stopped."
Michael took a tiny silver device from his jacket. It was something Arin's court had given him, an object that could record emotions and spiritual imprints. He placed it on the ground and activated it. The device hummed.
"Go outside," he told the priests. "I function better by myself."
They hesitated but complied.
As they departed, Michael knelt at the altar. This space was. angry. It was not merely Eliza's sorrow. It was something more.
The device blinked red. An echo flared.
"Zion." a voice whispered. Faint. Distant.
Michael spun around. Nobody there.
And then the walls rippled. For an instant, he glimpsed shadows moving across burning plains. Spears were raised. Screams. A crying child.
He blinked and it vanished.
The machine clicked quietly and turned black.
Michael dropped onto his heels. "Well. that wasn't just in my head."
---
Meanwhile, in court, Michael went back to Eliza with a stern face.
"You told me you never did anything to the priests. But why were you reciting a name? Zion?"
Eliza stopped moving. Her body changed. "Zion. was my brother. He died when he was seven. I always called his name to the wind. I thought. I thought it was something that only I knew."
"It wasn't," said Michael. "Whatever's haunting that temple isn't just sorrow. It's anger. Ancient."
Eliza was now genuinely scared. "So it's not me. Something else has attached itself to that temple. Something that's hiding behind my visits."
Michael sighed. "So, I have to look harder. I have to examine your memories."
She blinked. "That's. personal."
"If you lose, you're stuck in a never-ending ghost prison," he responded.
She sighed deeply and laid her hand on his.
Light covered them both.
---
He stood in a memory.
A field of white blooms. A temple in the distance. Eliza kneeling beside a small tomb, praying. A child's laughter in the wind.
And then—a scream. A priest running. Something black jumping out of the forest. Not Eliza.
Michael turned around. Something materialized. It was tall and had horns. Its eyes were like fiery coals.
"You shouldn't be here," it snarled.
Michael suddenly found himself returned to reality, gasping.
Eliza grasped his hand firmly. "Did you see it?" "Oh, yes," Michael said, grabbing his coat. "And I think I just met the **real** enemy."