CH7 First encounter with the lower arbiters (Sort of)

Orion's decision crystallized as Ryo's figure receded into the horizon, his casual gait a stark contrast to the storm of tension swirling in the Watcher's mind. The violet energy at Ryo's fingertips pulsed faintly, like a dying ember—yet Orion knew it for what it truly was: a spark that could ignite an inferno capable of consuming the multiverse itself.

"I cannot let this go unchecked," Orion murmured, his voice as steady as the cosmic winds. He extended his arms, and the shimmering glyphs along his robes flared to life, spiraling outward in intricate patterns that seemed to map entire constellations.

With a single motion, Orion clapped his hands together, and the air around him split like a fractured mirror. From the rupture stepped the Lower Arbiters, their arrival heralded by a thunderous hum that resonated across the dimensional fabric.

The Arbiters were a sight to behold: towering figures clad in armor that gleamed like obsidian dipped in molten gold. Their faces were concealed behind ornate helmets, each adorned with a singular glowing eye at its center, pulsating like a heartbeat. Despite their divine origin, there was an air of arrogance about them, their movements sharp and deliberate, exuding the confidence of those who had never been challenged—and never expected to be.

The leader of the group, a towering Arbiter known as Halcion, stepped forward. His voice was a blend of disdain and boredom as he addressed Orion.

"A mortal, Watcher? Is this truly worth our time?" Halcion's eye narrowed as he glanced in the direction Ryo had gone. "He doesn't even seem to be aware of his own insignificance. This is beneath us."

"Beneath you, perhaps," Orion replied, his silver eyes meeting Halcion's with an intensity that silenced any further complaint. "But his power is not. Do not let appearances deceive you. This one carries a force that predates even the Luminal Pantheon. If left unchecked, it could unravel the very fabric of existence."

Halcion sneered, though the glyphs on his armor flickered briefly, betraying a momentary unease. The other Arbiters exchanged amused glances, their confidence unshaken.

"Very well," Halcion said, drawing his weapon from the ether. It was a massive halberd, its blade forged from crystallized starlight, radiating an oppressive aura. "If it will ease your conscience, Watcher, we shall deal with your 'threat.'"

The other Arbiters followed suit, summoning their weapons—a dazzling array of blades, whips, and maces, each one pulsating with divine energy. They moved with precision, their arrogance manifesting in exaggerated displays of power, as if to remind all present of their dominance. Orion remained silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon where Ryo had disappeared. A part of him hesitated, a faint whisper of doubt echoing in his mind. But the memory of that violet energy banished any second thoughts. The risk was too great.

As the Arbiters advanced, Ryo's playful demeanor surfaced.

"Mortal," Halcion bellowed, his voice reverberating like a crack of thunder. "By decree of the Luminal Pantheon, you are to be judged and punished for the threat you pose to the balance of the cosmos. Surrender, and your end shall be swift."

Ryo tilted his head slightly, as if considering the words, then let out a low, exaggerated whistle. He spoke, his tone casual but carrying a mischievous edge.

"Halcion, I see that you're still suffering from the chunni disease, Judgment? Punishment? Were you guys always this dramatic? Or is it just bring-your-ego-to-work day?"

Halcion's patience snapped. With a roar, he surged forward, his halberd cutting through the air with devastating speed. The other Arbiters followed, their combined assault a symphony of divine destruction aimed directly at Ryo.

For a moment, it seemed as though the battle would end before it began. The ground beneath Ryo cracked and splintered as the sheer force of the Arbiters' approach bore down on him. But then, just as their weapons were about to strike, they heard Ryo mutter, "Chaos pulse" and violent energy erupted from his body.

It wasn't an explosion—not in the traditional sense. The energy expanded outward in a wave, silent and precise, slicing through the Arbiters' divine attacks as though they were nothing more than mist. The force of it sent the Arbiters stumbling backward, their confidence replaced by shock.

Ryo finally turned to face them, a lazy grin on his face, though his breathing was clearly labored. "Whoa there, fellas! If I'd known you'd bring the whole shiny-armored fan club, I'd have rolled out the red carpet." He flicked his fingers, the violet energy swirling weakly around him. "But hey, no autographs today, alright? I'm on a tight schedule."

Yet, even as the energy flared, Ryo's breaths grew shallow, and a faint tremor ran through his frame. He clenched his fists, but the light around him dimmed slightly, its once-commanding presence faltering. A bead of sweat traced down his temple as he muttered under his breath, too low for the Arbiters to hear.

"You want to play judge and executioner?" he said, his voice steady, but the strain was evident. "Fine. Let's play."

But Orion saw it—the cracks in Ryo's composure, the telltale signs of exhaustion from a power incomplete, a force that demanded more than Ryo could currently give. The Watcher's gaze hardened.