After the storm had passed, after every threat had been crushed and every misunderstanding resolved, I finally reached a resolution with Luminas. The tension in the air that had suffused the halls of Eterna was gone, replaced by a tangible stillness. The silence was heavy—thick with the memory of what had transpired and what they had endured under my Judgment of Osirion.
Luminas lowered her gaze, hands folded tightly in front of her. Even with her composed posture, beads of sweat glimmered along her temple, a stark testament to the ordeal she had survived. "A-Atem-sama… I…" she began, her voice trembling.
I did not let her finish. My presence alone made her falter. I let the silence stretch long enough for her to feel the weight of what she had faced. Then, slowly, I spoke, my voice cold yet measured. "Luminas… you know now that mercy is not freely given. You know the cost of stepping into my domain unbidden."
Her lips parted, but she could not find words. The memory of the agony, the relentless, suffocating pressure of Osirion's Judgment, was still vivid. Each moment had burned into her consciousness. She had endured suffering worse than any mortal could imagine, and she knew now how easily it could have ended.
"I… understand," she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. "I… I will make amends. The Holy Church… the Western Nations… they will know the truth."
"Good," I replied. "Your words are meaningless without action. You will announce, on behalf of your Holy Church, that we are harmless. That our presence is not a threat to your people. Do you understand the consequences if you fail?"
Luminas swallowed hard, her hands trembling. "Y-yes… Atem-sama. We… we will do as you command."
Hinata, standing slightly behind Luminas, had also been silent. Her hand rested on her sword hilt, but she did not draw it. Fear had replaced defiance. She understood fully what it meant to face me. Even her resolve, her unyielding spirit, had been tested—and broken—by the power I wielded.
"I… I will trust in your judgment," Hinata said carefully, her voice low. "We… we will support the announcement. There will be no misunderstanding from us again."
"See that there isn't," I said. "Words carry weight. So do actions. One misstep, and you will know that Osirion's Judgment is not limited to the past."
The Pope, Louis, who had been acting as Luminas' body double before, stepped forward, bowing deeply, his face pale and drawn. "A-Atem-sama… I… we… will ensure compliance. None shall question your will again."
I let my eyes sweep over the gathered Holy Knights, who had remained kneeling, barely daring to breathe. The memory of their pain under my authority—the suffocating pressure, the chaos of energy that nearly tore them apart—was enough to keep them in place. They had felt helplessness, despair, and terror unlike anything in the human or divine realm.
"You understand now," I said to all of them. "Do not speak without thinking. Do not act without permission. Your lives are yours to command, but your liberty is measured against the respect you give to my authority. Fail, and you will know the meaning of true suffering."
A shiver ran through the ranks. Even Luminas' proud stature wavered under the weight of my presence. Her hands clasped together as if to hold herself from collapsing. The Pope's eyes darted nervously toward me, as though expecting the very air to tear him apart.
"W-We… we understand, Atem-sama," Luminas said, voice shaking, but steadier than before. "Your… your will is law here."
"Good," I said, inclining my head slightly. "Now, we will formalize our agreements. The Western Nations must know that our intentions are honorable. The Holy Church will issue a proclamation, and your knights will ensure no misunderstanding arises."
Hinata nodded, but her gaze remained fixed on me. Respect was there, yes—but fear lingered alongside it, a constant reminder of what it meant to stand against me unprepared.
The Pope cleared his throat, his knees still pressed into the ground. "Atem-sama… we… shall follow your guidance in all matters of this kind. Your power… it is unmatched. None of us shall defy you again."
I let the words sink in, allowing silence to stretch once more. The Holy Knights' kneeling forms, the trembling hands of Luminas, the restrained breathing of Hinata, and the Pope's submission all spoke volumes. They would not need me to speak again to remember the lesson. They had endured what few could survive, and they would carry that memory with them forever.
"You may rise," I said finally. The collective exhale that followed was almost audible, though no one dared speak first.
Luminas, still pale, slowly lifted herself, glancing at me with a mix of fear and awe. Hinata did the same, her hand drifting to her sword hilt for a fraction of a second before letting it fall again. The Pope's posture was rigid, formal, but his knees were shaking slightly. Even the Holy Knights, seasoned and trained, moved cautiously, their eyes lowered, a newfound respect evident in every gesture.
"This… this is our lesson," Luminas said quietly, almost to herself. "The Demon Lord… no, Atem… his authority is absolute. None may defy him and live unscathed."
Hinata exhaled slowly, her gaze meeting mine for a brief moment. "I… I understand now," she said. "Your strength… your judgment… it is absolute. There is no room for miscalculation."
I did not respond. Words were unnecessary. The memory of suffering, the terror they had endured, the suffocating power of Osirion's Judgment—all of it remained. Fear and respect intertwined within them, binding them to my will without the need for further demonstration.
"From now on," I said, my voice cutting through the silence, "any challenge, any provocation, any attempt to undermine me will be met with consequences you cannot imagine. The choice to follow or fail is yours. Make your decision wisely."
Luminas bowed deeply. "We… we follow, Atem-sama."
Hinata's voice was firmer now, tempered by respect. "We will not falter again. Your will is clear, and we shall act accordingly."
The Pope, still pale, repeated the words. "Your will is our law, Atem-sama. We will ensure your instructions are carried out to the letter."
Even the Holy Knights, hardened by years of training and devotion, remained kneeling longer than necessary, absorbing the weight of authority that I had imposed. The memory of torment, the pressure of Osirion's Judgment, and the reminder of my chaotic, overwhelming power had left a mark that no training or meditation could erase.
I finally allowed a measure of release. "Stand. The world will see your compliance, your repentance, and your willingness to cooperate. Make sure your actions reflect your words, or Osirion's Judgment will not be kind the next time."
One by one, they rose, trembling but fully aware of the lesson they had learned. Fear had tempered them, respect had forged them, and all had recognized that authority was absolute. From Luminas to Hinata, from the Pope to the Holy Knights, no one would forget what had occurred.
And in that moment, the foundation of peace was reinforced—not only through treaties and proclamations, but through the unshakable recognition of power, judgment, and the consequences of defiance. Eterna had learned a lesson, and they would carry it for a lifetime.