Chapter: The Leash Tightens

San couldn't shake the eyes. They burned in his memory like brands, the red glow searing through every rational explanation he tried to piece together. A gate-born monster in the flesh? No. Monsters didn't speak like that. Monsters didn't warn.

"You're not ready," it had said.

He clenched his fist as he entered the courthouse, the slick note still crumpled in his pocket. The words Blackscale Syndicate seemed heavier now, like a stone pulling him into deep water.

"San," Leo called, catching up to him with a quick jog. His breath fogged in the morning air. "What the hell happened last night? You look like you wrestled a nightmare and lost."

San kept walking. "No nightmares. Just shadows with teeth."

Leo frowned. "That's... uncomfortably poetic. Are we talking literal shadows, or the metaphorical kind?"

San didn't answer. He pushed through the courthouse doors, the sterile scent of polished wood and old paper hitting him like a wave. The courtroom felt suffocating before he even set foot inside.

*IN THE COURTROOM*

The judge, a gaunt man with sharp cheekbones and eyes that had seen too many lies, tapped his gavel twice. "Court is now in session."

San stood slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders. Across from him, Salin lounged in his chair, claws tapping a slow rhythm against the table. His amber eyes gleamed with restrained arrogance, a predator playing at patience.

"Mr. Salin," San began, stepping toward the jury box. "Let's return to the night of the attack. You claimed self-defense."

Salin leaned forward, a grin flashing sharp teeth. "I didn't claim it. I lived it."

"Right." San's eyes were cold as winter. "You lived it by tearing a man's arm from his body. A tier-two awakener like yourself could have incapacitated him without lethal force."

"Instinct," Salin drawled. "You wouldn't understand."

San tilted his head. "Try me."

The defense attorney rose. "Objection. Counsel is badgering!"

"Sit down," the judge said, his tone bored but firm.

The defense lawyer scowled but obeyed.

San continued, his voice low and deliberate. "Mr. Salin, you argue instinct. An uncontrollable reaction tied to your beast form. But isn't instinct supposed to be indiscriminate? Why didn't you attack anyone else when the authorities arrived?"

Salin's claws twitched. "I—"

"You stopped. Immediately. Why?"

The jury leaned in, the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You weren't out of control," San pressed, his words a hammer striking the truth. "You chose. You saw consequences and acted accordingly. That's not instinct. That's calculation. And that makes you responsible."

Salin's growl reverberated through the courtroom, a low, dangerous sound. "You think you're better than me?"

San didn't flinch. "No, Mr. Salin. I think you're a coward hiding behind excuses."

The jury flinched.

The defense attorney adjusted his tie, rising with a forced smile. "Mr. Salin, would you describe your transformation process for the court? Specifically, how much control you retain in your tier-two state."

Salin smirked. "It's like... drowning in fire. You don't think. You burn."

San's jaw clenched. Theatrics. Lies.

The attorney turned to the jury. "You see, ladies and gentlemen, awakening is not a gift it's a curse. A biological affliction. My client is as much a victim of his power as the man he injured."

San interjected, his tone cutting. "Victimhood doesn't absolve choice. Power always comes with responsibility."

The attorney glared at him. "Objection!"

"Sustained."

San sighed but didn't relent. He glanced toward the plaintiff still pale, still missing an arm, his life shattered. Then back to Salin. "Why didn't you seek help for your 'affliction' before this happened?"

"I didn't need to," Salin sneered.

"And now a man is maimed for life. That's the price of your pride."

The judge called a recess after the heated exchange. Outside, Leo waited with two cups of coffee, one already half-drained. "That was brutal."

San took the offered cup, his hands cold against the paper. "Power isn't evil, Leo. It's neutral. What people do with it that's where good and evil live."

Leo nodded slowly. "Yeah. But not everyone can handle that kind of weight. Most people crack."

San's eyes were dark. "And some people become the weight that crushes others."

"You ever think about that? The ones who didn't crack?"

San smirked. "They're called tyrants."

Leo whistled low. "Damn. You sure you don't want to quit law and start preaching?"

"I preach every day," San murmured. "In court."

Leo chuckled. "Your sermons could use some better PR, man."

San didn't smile. His eyes, as dark as the storm clouds that hung over New Dawnhold, scanned the courtroom entrance as they returned. Every figure lawyer, clerk, or bystander was a potential threat. The weight of Blackscale Syndicate lingered on his mind like a shadow with claws.

The courtroom felt colder when they stepped back in. Salin sat with the kind of arrogance that made San's blood boil not the arrogance of confidence, but of someone who believed rules didn't apply to him. His claws tapped a slow rhythm on the table as if counting down seconds to an unseen doom.

"All rise," the bailiff intoned.

The judge re-entered, robes flowing like the shroud of justice itself, his face carved from stone. "Recess is over. Mr. San, you may continue."

San stood, his shoulders squared and his mind sharp as a blade honed on truth.

"Mr. Salin," he began, his voice steady, "let's revisit your defense instinct and self-defense. You claim you had no choice but to react violently when confronted by the plaintiff. You called it natural instinct."

"Yeah," Salin growled, his yellow eyes flashing. "It was instinct."

"Interesting." San clasped his hands behind his back, his pace slow as he moved toward the jury. "Would you say that instinct is inherent? A fundamental part of your nature?"

"Of course."

San nodded. "And would you describe your instinct as primal? Animalistic?"

Salin smirked, revealing sharp teeth. "Absolutely."

"Yet when law enforcement arrived, you transformed back into your human form, didn't you?"

The werebeast shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't want to get shot."

San pounced. "Exactly! You didn't want to get shot. You chose to transform back. You exercised control over your actions, proving that your instincts are not an uncontrollable force, but a tool you wield as it suits you."

The defense attorney leapt to his feet. "Objection! The prosecution is twisting my client's words..."

"Overruled."

The judge's gavel fell with finality, and the weight of justice hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.

San stepped closer to Salin, his eyes never leaving the beast's. "Instinct without control is chaos. Choice without consequence is tyranny. You're not an animal, Salin. You're a man. And men are judged by their actions."

Salin's lip curled. His claws flexed, gouging the wood of the defense table.

"And when a man uses power recklessly," San continued, his voice sharp enough to draw blood, "when he harms another under the guise of instinct he must be held accountable. Because if we let instinct rule us, we're no better than the monsters we fear."

The courtroom fell silent. The jury, transfixed by the force of San's conviction, barely breathed.

"Tell me, Mr. Salin," San whispered. "What does it feel like to choose violence and hide behind lies?"

The werebeast trembled. For the first time, fear glimmered in his eyes.

Leo watched from the gallery, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He leaned over to a fellow observer, muttering, "Man's tearing him apart like he's writing a tragedy and Salin's the villain."

The stranger smirked. "He's good. But you know what they say about men who burn too bright."

Leo's grin faded. "Yeah. They don't live long."

San returned to his seat, his mind racing ahead to the final blow. But before he could settle, a soft click sounded beneath his table.

He glanced down.

A note lay folded neatly, the edges stained with black ink.

He unfolded it slowly, his pulse thundering in his ears.

"The leash tightens. Blackscale sees all."

The courtroom spun, but San's expression remained stone-cold. He slipped the note into his coat.