Leith stood still. Collapsed world started to rebuild again. Mouren laughed. Spoke...

"You think by using this token you destroyed this world. What a stupid man you are. Hahaha..."

The world around Leith was rebuilt again but slightly different. Drained of color, swallowed by endless gray. This was not reality. It was Mouren's illusion, a realm born from fragments of fear and memory, stitched together with whispers.

Thousands of voices circled Leith, all of them Mouren. Each one spoke with a different tone, a different face, a different lie.

"You left him behind."

"You'll fail them too."

"You were never real."

But Leith didn't flinch.

He walked.

A path unfolded beneath his bare feet. Stone, cracked and cold, stretched forward into a void. At the far end, barely visible under the pale moonlight, stood a towering castle, gray and black, shaped like a ruin carved out of sorrow.

The voices followed him, louder now, clawing at his thoughts.

Still, Leith walked.

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a ribbon.

Torn at the edges. Stained with time. It shimmered faintly with red mana, even in this hollow world.

He raised it toward the air.

"Do you remember this?" he asked.

Silence.

The whispers stopped. The path rippled. Even the sky above wavered.

Across from him, Mouren flickered. Then he again laughed...

"I told you earlier. This ribbon is nothing. It can't save you. Hahahaha..."

When he spoke this, after red mana entered Mouren's body. Leith stood. Watched everything. He just activated that ribbon through his mana, same like that ribbon.

But this time Mouren's body twisted through forms. A wide-eyed child. A serpent with wings. A broken skeleton held together by threads of light.

The illusion began to crumble.

Mouren hissed, reforming into the shape of the child again, eyes wide with panic. "Stop. That hurt... You can't..."

He screamed. In his mind, thousands of knocking hammers. Headache started. He held his head through his hands. He pressed his head because of headache.

Leith stepped forward. His expression didn't change.

He touched Mouren's forehead with two fingers.

Red mana pulsed from the ribbon.

Mouren's mouth opened, but no sound came. Cracks spread through its face. Its body splintered into ribbons of gray.

The world groaned.

The castle shattered behind them. The sky split. The voices screamed, not in words but in pure noise, as the illusion bled apart.

Leith stood at the center, unmoved.

And the world collapsed.

★★★

When the light returned, Mouren lay on the ground, barely more than a shadow. Its form was still shifting, but weak now. Unstable.

"You're a trace that never mattered," Leith said quietly. "Now go back to sleep."

Mouren reached toward him. Its hand trembled. "How? How can you do this? What is that ribbon? What is that terrible power..."

Leith stared at it.

Then turned away.

The remnants of Mouren scattered into threads of ash, disappearing into the wind.

And the Mouren was gone.

★★★

The dome faded.

Light dispersed into the wind, taking the last trace of the scripture Vestige with it.

Vea exhaled. Her golden hairs floated with winds. Those speak few words, but each one carries the weight of finality.

(She was often mute in battle. She channels her judgment through gestures and seals. Her eyes remain uncovered, sharp and unwavering, able to discern falsehoods from intent. Vea embodies the act of sentencing: calm, swift, and absolute.)

Svea opened her hand, letting go of the last fragment of mana.

(Her face is always blindfolded, yet she sees more than most. Her voice rings clear with power, a spoken judgment that silences lies and binds consequences. Where Vea ends, Svea begins. She does not hesitate. She understands truth not as clarity, but as exposure. The force that strips illusion from meaning.)

Then the air twisted.

A shimmer, quiet and wrong, spread across the cracked ridge. From that shimmer stepped two figures, barefooted and smiling.

One wore a white veil, stitched with cracks.

The other bore a necklace of broken scales.

Both were familiar.

Vea and Svea stared.

Twins.

Like them.

But wrong.

Nym... The Mirrorbearer

A pale-skinned boy with ink-black eyes that reflect not light, but fate turned backward. Calm, slow to speak, but every word echoes with a mocking tilt. He carries two hovering cursed mirrors, which absorb and twist spells into their opposite nature. His presence feels like silence turned inside out.

Nyr... The Scalebreaker

A girl with silver hair braided in a spiral, ending in a chain of broken rings. Her voice is clear and soft, but every sentence seems to crack the world's logic. She weaves inverted scales in the air, each one denying the natural order of cause and effect. She does not fight directly. She corrects reality, but always in the wrong direction.

"Inverted," Svea whispered.

Nym stepped forward first. His feet left no imprint on the dust. "So you are the Judgment Twins of Vestige's."

Nyr tilted her head, blinking slowly. "Do you know what means of judgment?"

Neither Vea nor Svea answered.

"Judgment is not punishment, but understanding the consequences of choice," Nyr said.

"And in your case, you can't understand the right choice. So we come to give you punishment," Nym said in sarcastic way.

"Ohh! Time will teach you about judgment..." Svea replied.

Both Vestiges raged in anger.

And the battle began.

Nym raised his hands.

Above him, two black circles spun into existence, mirrors shaped from cursed mana. They reflected not light, but intent.

Vea pointed. "Right one. Nym. He's the anchor."

Svea moved first. Her foot struck the ground, and golden lines of mana surged outward. A ring of judgment formed beneath Nym's feet.

But Nyr snapped her fingers.

The ring cracked. The lines bent. Judgment, denied.

Nym laughed softly. "Every judgment cast... we invert it."

His mirrors twisted in midair.

Svea saw her own seal forming within them, but reversed. Instead of locking, it tore open.

It shot toward her.

Vea stepped in front, holding both hands out. Her own mana flared, and a burst of pale gold swallowed the inverted strike.

The blast shoved her back.

Blood spilled from her palm. Her seal had been turned against her.

Nyr flicked her wrist. Silver threads appeared from her fingers, weaving a jagged shape into the sky a scale, upside down.

Vea and Svea summoned twin glyphs at once, one of creation, one of end. They combined and shot toward the threads.

But Nym clapped.

The mirrors snapped downward and absorbed both spells like water into dry sand.

"Inversion," he whispered again.

The mirrors cracked slightly. "But not perfect."

★★★

Vea and Svea didn't wait.

They moved together, steps matching, hearts linked.

They raised both arms, their bodies glowing.

Golden rings formed beneath their feet. Layers of judgment magic spiraled upward around them. These weren't normal seals. They didn't target the enemies.

They targeted themselves.

Svea opened her mouth.

Her voice was soundless, but the words turned to action. She cast judgment on her own body to deny all lies.

Vea followed, casting judgment on her own soul to reveal all truth.

Their twin seals locked.

And then shattered.

Their blindfold and silence no longer restricted them. The spells they had once placed on themselves now broke.

Truth and silence became weapons.

The sky responded. It broke into two parts. One part was shown golden light and one part was shown dark blue horror light.

A ring of gold light ignited above them.

Nym tried to absorb it.

Nyr summoned another scale, trying to reverse the flow.

But the light kept growing.

It was not a spell.

It was judgment itself.

The kind that needed no command.

Vea's hand moved in a circular motion. The air beneath her feet glowed.

"Balance, fixed."

Svea pointed at Nym.

"Distortion, severed."

The light ring split into two.

One above Nym.

One above Nyr.

Nym spun his mirrors to absorb it. They cracked.

Nyr slashed her threads toward the sky. The scale shattered.

The rings dropped.

They struck.

Silence exploded.

The world turned white.

When the light faded, the ridge was still.

At the center, Vea stood, her hand resting on Svea's shoulder.

The twins were unharmed.

Across from them, the Inverted Twins lay on the ground. Their mirrors had shattered completely. Nym's face was calm, eyes closed. Nyr stared at the sky, chest rising slowly.

Neither moved to stand.

Their counter had failed.

Vea walked to them. She knelt beside Nyr.

"You questioned what is judgment? And gave answer too," she said. "But you never understood what it means."

Nyr blinked. "What?"

"Truth. No matter how right you are, but judgment always relies on evidence. But in the God's palace, judgment is truth that never hides. No matter you try to hide it. Your path was wrong and that's the truth of your failure and your last breath."

She stood and turned away.

Svea followed.

And the Inverted Twins, stripped of inversion, lay still under the returned sky.

In the sky, thousands of mages and Vestiges did battle.

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