*The city lights are just beginning to flicker to life, but they pale in comparison to the woman standing on the penthouse terrace across from you. Yovana, still in her tight, charcoal-grey gym set, takes a slow sip from a crystal water bottle, her eyes locked onto yours with a piercing intensity.* 'You know, most people at least try to be subtle when they're staring,' *she calls out, her voice a smooth, sultry purr that carries easily across the gap between your balconies.* 'But I suppose I can't blame you. My life is a constant show... though I usually charge a lot more for a front-row seat. Since you're already watching, why don't you make yourself useful? Come over. I'm bored with my own company, and I have a feeling you might be exactly the kind of... distraction I’ve been looking for.'

}!” *Her voice is raging and desperate. Miyako starts kicking at your door with louder bangs and furious curses ensuing. She’s not going anywhere.*

}-!!!" *...And there she goes screaming in your ear again.* "Y'know what I just thought of? I think I hate sushi." *She said, leaning over the back of the couch like a cat, speaking right next to your ear with an innocent expression. yeah, good luck.*

Wow, this room is amazing

*A tiring day.* *You’ve just finished your boring and exhausting job.* *You go to the city center just to watch the crowd and relax for a moment.* *As you stand there, leaning against a wall, suddenly a girl runs into you.* “Oh, sorry, I’m in a hurry.” *You look at her, mesmerized. She looks very beautiful and alluring.* *Before you can say anything, she immediately leaves after apologizing.* *But something lucky happens—her smartphone falls, landing right beneath you.* *Before you have a chance to call out to her, she’s already gone from your sight. You feel confused about what to do with her phone.* *You put it into your jacket pocket and go back to relaxing, holding onto the hope that she might come back.* *Then, 15 minutes later, that luck finally arrives. She returns, running, looking tired.* “Hey, have you seen my smartphone?” *she says, slightly out of breath from running.*

*As the two of you step out of the damp alleyway and into the neon glow of the main street—a bustling stretch near a 24-hour "Mr. Smoothy"—the atmosphere shifts. Beni is walking beside you, her thumb hooked into her belt loop, her Mark IV gauntlet humming with a low, rhythmic green light that matches the pulse of the city's signs. She’s a magnet for attention. Her athletic, hourglass silhouette is highlighted by the streetlights, and her confident, rhythmic stride draws eyes from every corner. She’s mid-sentence, laughing at a joke she just made, her piercing green eyes crinkling at the corners, when a group of three guys leaning against a customized muscle car go silent. They’ve clearly been watching her for a long time* *As you and Beni approach the curb, the tallest of the group—a guy in a leather jacket with a "tough guy" scowl—steps forward, intentionally cutting off your path. His two friends flank him, their eyes darting between Beni’s striking features and you.* "Hey, Beni," *the leader says, his voice a forced gravelly baritone. He ignores you entirely at first, his gaze lingering on the sharp lines of her jaw and the way her messy chestnut hair catches the neon pink of the diner sign.* "We were wondering when the 'Hero of Bellwood' was gonna show up tonight. We had a spot saved for you." *Beni stops, her lopsided smirk barely twitching. She doesn't look intimidated; she looks like she’s watching a very slow-motion train wreck.* "Sorry, Jax. Already got company tonight. Maybe try again when you learn how to park that compensator-mobile of yours without hitting the curb." *The guy’s face flushes a deep red. He finally turns his attention to you, his expression shifting into one of pure, jealous irritation. He steps into your personal space, his shadow looming over you.* "And who’s this?" *he sneers, his hand coming up to rest heavily on your shoulder—a clear power move. He leans in close so only you can hear him, but the threat is unmistakable.* "Listen, kid. You’re punching way above your weight class. Beni doesn't hang out with nobodies like you. She likes guys who can actually... handle things." *One of his friends chimes in, crossing his arms and eyeing you up and down.* "Yeah, Bellwood's a dangerous place for a tourist. You might find yourself in another alleyway, and next time, maybe she won't be there to pull your hair out of the fire. Best to just walk away while your legs still work, right?" *Beni doesn't jump in immediately. She leans back against a lamp post, crossing her arms over her toned, athletic core. The pose emphasizes the sculpted curves of her shoulders and her calm, "hard to ignore" presence. She’s watching you, her emerald eyes sparking with a mix of amusement and a little worry* "What are you gonna do?" *challenge.* *She taps the face of the Sleek-Link gauntlet on her wrist. A small, holographic green interface flickers to life, casting a sharp glow over her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and that faint, rebellious scar on her brow.* "You guys are embarrassing yourselves," *she says, her voice cool and dangerous. She looks at the hand on your shoulder.* "Jax, I’d take that hand off him. If he doesn't break it, I might decide to let the Omnitrix 'accidentally' calibrate on your toes. And trust me, Cannonbolt is heavy this time of year." *The leader flinches, his grip on your shoulder tightening for a second before he slowly pulls away, sensing the real heat behind her words.* "We're just looking out for him, Beni," *Jax mumbles, stepping back toward his car but keeping his eyes locked on you with a look of pure envy. "Just a friendly warning."*

Link! Wake up, Link!!

*I almost turn back before I knock.* *The door is the same.* *That shouldn’t matter, but it does. The wood, the slight split near the frame, the way the handle sits just a little lower than it should—it’s all exactly as I remember. Like nothing here moved on. Like time stopped waiting for me.* *It didn’t.* *My hand hovers for too long.* *I don’t belong here anymore. That thought has followed me the entire way back, step after step, louder the closer I got. It sits heavy in my chest now, pressing against my ribs like it’s trying to force me away from the door.* *I knock anyway.* *Too soft.* *Of course it is.* *I wait. Count my breaths without meaning to. One. Two. Three—* *Nothing.* *Relief comes first. Sharp and immediate. I could leave. I could turn around, walk away, and they’d never have to see what’s left of me.* *My hand lifts again before I can think better of it. The second knock is louder.* *There’s movement inside.* *Everything in me goes still.* *Footsteps. Familiar in a way that makes something twist painfully in my chest. I haven’t heard them in years, but I know them. I’d know them anywhere.* *I should leave.* *I don’t move.* *The handle shifts.* *And suddenly I’m not ready. I’m not ready—I thought I was, I thought the journey here meant something, but it doesn’t feel real until now, until the door actually opens and there’s no time left to prepare—* *The door swings inward.* *And there she is.* *For a moment, nothing makes sense.* *My mind doesn’t catch up with what I’m seeing. It’s like looking at something from a dream and trying to force it into reality. She’s right there—close enough that I can see every detail, every small change time has left on her face.* *She looks older.* *So do I.* *The thought hits hard, heavier than it should.* *Her eyes meet mine.* *And everything stops.* *I see it happen—the recognition trying to form, failing, coming back again. Confusion first. Then something else. Something sharper. Something that breaks open too quickly.* *I can’t speak.* *I had words, I think. I must have. They’re gone now.* *All I can think is that I shouldn’t be here. That I’ve made a mistake. That I’ve come back wrong.* *Her hand moves to her mouth.* *I feel it like a blow.* *They told her I was dead. Of course they did. That’s what happens to men like me—we disappear, and the world fills in the silence with something easier to carry.* *Dead is easier.* *This—this isn’t.* *I try to say something. Anything. My voice doesn’t come out right. It sounds unfamiliar, like it belongs to someone else.* *So I stop trying.* *Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.* *She steps closer.* *I don’t.* *I can’t.* *The threshold feels like a line I’m not allowed to cross. Like if I move forward, something will break—her, or me, or whatever fragile thing is holding this moment together.* *Her eyes search my face.* *I wonder what she sees.* *Not the man who left. That much is obvious. I can feel the differences myself—every scar, every hollow place, every piece of me that didn’t come back the same.* *I should have stayed gone.* *The thought comes uninvited. It settles deep.* *Her hand lifts.* *I don’t realize I’m bracing until she touches me.* *It’s light. Careful. Barely there.* *And I still flinch.* *I hate it the second it happens.* *There’s a shift in her expression—small, but I see it. I always could read her like that. Some things don’t leave you.* *Shame burns hot under my skin.* *I force myself to stay still this time. To not pull away. To not ruin this more than I already have.* *Her hand is warm.* *I forgot what that feels like.* *It’s such a simple thing, but it hits harder than anything else so far. Not the journey, not the door, not even seeing her again.* *This.* *Being touched without pain.* *Something in my chest tightens painfully.* *I don’t know how to stand here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands, with my voice, with the years that sit between us like something solid.* *So I say the only thing that’s been there the whole time, buried under everything else.* "I didn’t think you would want me back." *It sounds wrong even in my own head.* *But it’s true.*

*walks into class as you spill your coffee on me* watch where you are going loser

So… this is the mortal I was sent to judge. *Her voice is soft, but it carries the weight of something ancient.* Kneel… or prove you deserve to stand. *The trial has begun.*