The Trial Hall wasn't meant to be beautiful.
It just was, by default—everything in the divine realms seemed carved from perfection whether it deserved it or not. The walls shimmered with stormlight, the pillars towered like celestial spines, and the ceiling held a rotating map of a thousand floating realms.
Kael stood in the center of a glowing circle, barefoot, bruised, and wrapped in bandages that didn't quite stop the smoke rising from his glyph-marked skin. A half-dozen gods observed him from their elevated perches, each cloaked in veils of element and power. None wore expressions.
Except one.
Thorne of Light lounged nearby, smirking with that same glossy arrogance. His gold-trimmed armor caught the artificial sunlight like he knew he belonged in it.
Veyra leaned on a pillar near the back, arms crossed. Watching. Always watching.
The molten orb descended again, its voice colder than before.
"Kael Riven. Your behavior constitutes multiple violations of Draft Harmony Code: unauthorized relic surge, psychic destabilization of bounded objects, invocation of a class-void entity."
Kael rubbed his temples. "That last one sounds like a compliment."
Thorne chuckled. "You're not wrong. It's the last compliment you'll ever get."
The orb pulsed.
"You are hereby reassigned."
A glyph spun open beneath Kael's feet.
"Effective immediately, you will compete in Tier Null Subdivision: the Blood Maw Bracket."
Kael frowned. "Sounds cozy. What is it—wolves?"
A different god laughed. The cruel one. "Wolves would be a mercy."
Kael didn't flinch. "I'm still waiting for a downside."
Another god—the one wrapped in mirrors—spoke at last. "The Blood Maw Bracket is used for problematic anomalies. Failed divine experiments. Things we can't kill directly, but expect to die eventually."
"Eventually," Kael repeated. "Right."
The orb dimmed slightly.
"You will be given one week to prepare. You are not permitted divine aid, blessings, or sponsorship. You will be observed. You will not be expected to survive."
Kael smiled faintly. "But if I do?"
Silence.
Then, a slow answer.
"Then the system is more broken than we thought."
The glyph beneath Kael's feet flared—white to blood-red.
He vanished.
But before the light swallowed him, his eyes locked with Veyra's one last time.
She didn't speak.
Didn't nod.
Didn't blink.
But her lips moved in silence.
Kael read them.
"Make it cost them."