There is a certain flavor of dread that only comes when you realize your face—your literal face—is staging a political coup.
Not metaphorically.
Not emotionally.
No. I mean that in the most unholy, reality-glitching, System-defying sense possible: my Mask of Echo, forged by ancient monk-artisans, infused with divine identity-threads, previously semi-helpful in preventing my soul from hemorrhaging out of my nose, had just declared political independence.
From me.
I don't even have voting rights.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: The Mask of Echo has requested Representative Autonomy. Do you accept the terms of sovereign maskhood?]
[You may respond: (A) Yes, (B) No, (C) I require soup.]
I hovered over C. Deeply. Soulfully. With the weariness of a man who had once been legally declared a pickle and emotionally blackmailed by a cat.
But the System—traitor that it was—froze the option.
"You can't be serious," I muttered. The Spoon, tucked into the divine sash at my waist, vibrated gently in what I think was laughter.
Belladonna, still three inches above the ground in her permanently-floating arcane hover, arched a singular, judgmental eyebrow. "Is this about the mask again?"
"It's having a political awakening."
"Your face is unionizing?"
"Essentially."
"Do I need to call the Cult Parliament back into session?"
"They're already forming committees on soup taxation. I can't handle mask reform legislation on top of flavor-based economic policy."
In the background, Fluffernox was holding court.
Literally. On top of a stack of canned goods labeled CONSUME RESPONSIBLY OR BE SMOTE, the eldritch cat who had become the spiritual and metaphysical core of the Soup Cult was issuing edicts via tail flicks.
Every time he sneezed, someone's memory of taxes was erased. I was jealous.
The Mask shimmered again.
Its surface, once smooth and silver, now pulsed with reflected images: past Kaels, future Kaels, extremely judgmental alternate timeline Kaels. One was wearing a monocle and sipping tea made of pure narrative trauma.
I hate that guy.
And then—it spoke.
Not aloud. No, that would be too merciful.
It spoke directly into my mind, the same way intrusive thoughts do, but with more self-confidence.
"Kael. We must vote."
"On what?"
"You."
There are many ways to lose your sense of agency.
Having it repossessed by your own magical prosthetic is new.
"Spoon," I hissed, turning to my ever-unhelpful divine utensil. "Is this some sort of Echo Ritual trial I missed in monk orientation?"
"Yes. And no. And yes again. But also you're the glitch, so everything is made up. I'd offer a flowchart, but it's currently on fire."
"From...?"
"You, probably."
[SYSTEM UPDATE: Mask of Echo has invoked Echo Clause 7B: The Right of Sovereign Facade to Self-Determine Identity Direction. Initiating Vote.]
[Vote Options: Remain Glitch-Kael. Reset to Canon-Kael. Ascend to Mask-Only Entity. Reincarnate as Fluffernox's assistant.]
[Voting Members: Mask Shards (3), Kael, Spoon (non-voting observer), Fate (sulking in corner)]
I felt something shudder inside me. A familiar sensation—like my bones flickering in and out of dimensional cohesion. My identity threads were being unraveled again.
And this time, it wasn't trauma or magic or even bad soup doing it.
It was democracy.
The Mask Shards hovered out of my satchel, glittering with echo-light. One shimmered in approval. One trembled with uncertainty. One looked like it wanted to punch me.
"I do not consent to internal personality voting," I declared to no one.
The Mask responded by glowing brighter.
[VOTE IN PROGRESS. PLEASE REMAIN GLITCHED.]
"This is absurd."
"It's your life," Belladonna said sweetly, watching with mild interest as I tried not to existentially fracture.
Spoon floated beside me, turning itself upside-down to mimic a judge's gavel.
"Order, order! This tribunal of Kael's inner chaos will now come to session. First motion: Do we allow Kael to remain a snarky glitch of indeterminate reality?"
"I object!"
"On what grounds?"
"I am the grounds!"
"Sustained."
VOTING RESULTS:
Mask Shard Alpha: Votes to Reboot Kael to Canon Hero Template. (Traitor.)
Mask Shard Beta: Abstains. (Coward.)
Mask Shard Gamma: Votes for Ascension to Soup-Based Divine Entity. (Concerning.)
Kael: Votes to Continue Living as Is, Thank You.
Spoon: Throws glitter.
Outcome: TIED.
[SYSTEM: In case of tie, fate delegates authority to... Fluffernox.]
Belladonna paled. Mirielle, who had appeared halfway through the mess by sliding down a floating breadstick rope, actually gasped.
"You're giving the tiebreaker to him?"
Fluffernox yawned.
Stretched.
Stepped directly onto my mask—and sat.
A glowing ripple of energy swept through the Parliament, through the Shrine, through my bones. The Mask's surface cracked—then healed. It shimmered with a strange new light.
[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: New Echo Identity Confirmed. Title Assigned: Glitch Sovereign of Paradox. Personality Core Retained. Internal Democracy Suspended Indefinitely.]
I blinked.
"...So what just happened?"
Spoon twirled.
"You won the vote. But only because your cat sat on your face."
"You have no idea how accurate that is."
Belladonna sighed. "At least now we don't have to explain to the System why you reincarnated as a soup ladle."
Next Time on Kaelverse:
Kael's trial finally begins.
The Tribunal arrives.
Spoon wears a tie.
Belladonna prepares closing arguments.
And Kael… may or may not plead guilty to being himself.
Chapter 91 – "System v. Kael: The Glitch Defense Rests (In a Soup Bowl)"