The Trial of Justice Begins

Arya stood in the center of an ancient courtroom, its walls etched with glowing inscriptions of divine laws and karmic balance. Torches burned with a blue flame, casting eerie shadows as if whispering secrets of the past.

At the far end of the hall, Yudhisthira, the Eternal Judge, sat upon a throne of scales, his expression unreadable. A massive golden balance hovered above Arya, shifting ever so slightly as unseen forces weighed his soul.

Yudhisthira: (calmly) "Arya of Kandhar. You seek the power of Justice, yet do you understand what Justice truly means?"

Arya clenched his fists.

Arya: "Justice is righteousness. It is delivering punishment to those who do evil and protecting the innocent."

Yudhisthira narrowed his gaze.

Yudhisthira: "So you believe justice is merely about punishment?"

The scales tipped, and suddenly—the world around Arya shifted.

Arya found himself standing amidst flames and destruction. The scent of blood and smoke filled his lungs.

Kandhar—the city he conquered.

Screams echoed as he saw innocent civilians—men, women, and children—fleeing from his soldiers. His blade dripped with the blood of a fallen warrior.

Behind him, Kamini, now Queen of Kandhar, stood with an emotionless expression.

Kamini: (softly) "Victory demands sacrifice, Arya. This is the price of power."

A child cried nearby, clutching his mother's lifeless body. The boy's eyes burned with anger and grief—the same eyes Arya had once possessed when his kingdom was destroyed.

Arya stepped forward, but the world shifted again.

Now, Arya stood in the Lust Kingdom's throne room. Empress Asmodeus leaned on her golden throne, her eyes filled with amusement and hidden desire.

Yet, behind her, nobles whispered in hushed tones, plotting against him.

Whispering Noble 1: "He is an outsider. He is dangerous."

Whispering Noble 2: "Asmodeus only keeps him because he is useful. When that changes, so will her loyalty."

Arya's chest tightened. He had fought for these people, and stood by them—and yet, they saw him as nothing more than a tool.

The visions snapped away, and Arya was back in the courtroom of judgment. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding.

Yudhisthira's voice echoed, firm but not unkind.

Yudhisthira: "Do you still believe justice is so simple? Is it only about punishing evil, or is it about carrying the burdens of those who suffer?"

Arya looked at his own hands—stained with both blood and responsibility.

Arya: (softly, to himself) "Justice is more than just punishment… it is understanding the weight of every choice."

The scales above him stopped shifting—perfectly balanced.

Yudhisthira nodded a flicker of approval in his gaze.

Yudhisthira: "You have seen the truth. Now, you must carry it."

The power of the Zenith of Justice surged through Arya's body, and a new symbol appeared upon his palm—the Crest of Judgment.

The trial was over, but the burden of Justice had only just begun.

The scales of fate glowed ominously above Arya as the entire chamber of judgment trembled. Yudhisthira stood from his throne, his celestial presence growing heavier. The very air became thick as if the weight of all past sins and virtues had gathered in this one moment.

Yudhisthira: (sternly) "You have walked the path of war and conquest, Arya. You have claimed power, but power without wisdom leads only to ruin."

The inscriptions on the walls of justice began to pulse, and suddenly, Arya felt his soul being pulled from his body. A rush of images overwhelmed his mind—every battle he had fought, every life he had taken, every moment of mercy or cruelty.

Arya found himself standing in a dark void, surrounded by ghostly figures—the souls of those he had killed. They stared at him, their eyes filled with sorrow, anger, and regret.

A wounded soldier stepped forward. His chest bore a fatal wound, blood still seeping from it.

Wounded Soldier: (bitterly) "You struck me down when I surrendered. Was that justice?"

A mother appeared, clutching a lifeless child in her arms.

Grieving Mother: (weeping) "Your war destroyed my home… my son starved. Was that justice?"

Arya's fists clenched. He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. The scales of justice now loomed behind him, weighing not only his actions but his very soul.

Then, another figure emerged from the shadows.

It was… himself.

The other Arya smirked, his golden eyes burning with intensity. He wore a darkened version of Arya's armor, pulsing with raw power.

Dark Arya: (mockingly) "Justice? You speak of justice, yet you are nothing but a conqueror. You take what you desire, justify your actions with noble words, and move forward without looking back."

Arya gritted his teeth.

Arya: "That's not true… I fight to protect the people I care about."

The other Arya laughed.

Dark Arya: "Do you? Or do you fight because you crave power? Lust, Wrath, and now Justice… how long before you stop pretending?"

A golden sword materialized in the dark Arya's hand—a blade of pure judgment.

Dark Arya: (smirking) "Come, let us see if you are truly worthy."

Suddenly, the dark void became a battlefield. Arya barely had time to react as his dark self rushed forward, their blades clashing with a blinding flash of energy.

Every strike echoed with the weight of his past choices. Each time he faltered, he saw the pain of those he had wronged.

But then… Arya remembered the people who stood beside him.

Vaishnavi, who followed him despite her fears.

Sachin, who fought alongside him, grew stronger each day.

Kamini and Asmodeus entrusted him with their faith.

Arya's grip tightened on his sword.

Arya: (resolute) "Justice isn't about punishing the past—it's about shaping the future!"

His blade shone with golden light, a manifestation of his own will. With a final strike, he slashed through his dark reflection, shattering it into fragments of light.

The void trembled… and Arya awoke in the Chamber of Judgment.

Yudhisthira gazed at Arya, his expression unreadable. Then, the scales of justice stopped shifting—perfectly balanced.

Yudhisthira: (approvingly) "You have seen your sins, and yet you do not run from them. You have proven your worth."

A golden mark appeared on Arya's hand—the Crest of Divine Balance.

Yudhisthira: "This power will grant you the ability to see truth beyond deception, to judge the wicked, and to discern the righteous. But beware—Justice is not absolute. Will you wield it wisely?"

Arya clenched his fist, feeling the weight of his new power. He had survived the trial… but the true test of justice had only just begun.