The door stayed shut.
For the first time since Lyra had stood in the judgment hall, she felt a stillness that stretched longer than a breath. Usually, the rhythm never broke. A soul entered, the mirror spoke, Kaelen pronounced, the floor swallowed or the light carried, and then the room reset for the next. But now the air was heavy with pause, as if the world itself hesitated.
Lyra leaned against the counter. Her hands were cold even though the room never changed temperature. The bottles behind Kaelen glowed softly, a hundred faint lights that shifted with a pulse too quiet to be heard but too real to ignore. She often wondered if the glow came from remnants of the souls themselves, though she had never dared ask.
Kaelen stood on the other side of the counter. He had not moved since Marissa Dune had vanished into the void. His hand rested on the polished surface, his eyes fixed on the shut door as though expecting it to open at any moment.
The silence pressed harder. Finally, Lyra spoke.
"Do you ever think about them after they are gone?"
Kaelen's eyes did not leave the door. "They are gone. That is the end of it."
Lyra shook her head. "It never feels like the end. Marcus's screams are still in my ears. Evelyn's tears still sting in my chest. And Marissa's laugh… it will not stop circling in my mind. How can you stand there as if none of it touches you?"
Kaelen's gaze lowered slightly, but his face remained calm. "If it touched me, I could not do this."
Lyra frowned. "Maybe that is the problem. Maybe this work should touch you. They were people. They lived, they loved, they chose. Even the ones who chose wrong were still human."
Kaelen finally turned to her. His eyes were steady, sharp, but not cruel. "I am not here to be human. I am here to judge. If I carried their weight, I would falter. The system does not allow faltering."
Lyra crossed her arms tightly. "And who made that system? Aurelius? His voice speaks like thunder, but I never see him here when the souls are trembling in front of us. He sits in his unseen place while you cut verdicts like blades. Do you never wonder if he is wrong?"
The silence deepened. The bottles behind them seemed to flicker, as if her words disturbed the air.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. He looked back at the door. "Aurelius is the order. Without him, there is no balance. He speaks, we obey. That is how the weight of this place holds."
Lyra's voice softened, but the fire in it did not fade. "But balance for who? For the souls? Or for him?"
Kaelen did not answer. His hand tapped once against the counter, then stilled.
Lyra walked to the shelves of glowing bottles. She let her fingertips hover over the glass. Each one pulsed faintly. Some burned brighter than others, some barely shimmered.
"What are these, Kaelen?" she asked quietly. "I see them every day. I see them flicker when a soul is judged. What are they?"
Kaelen's eyes followed her but his voice was low. "Echoes."
Lyra turned. "Echoes of what?"
"The lives they lived," he said. "Fragments that remain after judgment. They hold no power. Only memory."
Lyra pressed her hand flat against one of the bottles. The glow within flared for a heartbeat. Her breath caught. "If they are memories, then you do carry them. They are all still here. They are not gone."
Kaelen's expression remained unreadable. "Memory does not change verdicts."
Lyra's eyes searched his face. "Does it change you?"
For a long moment, Kaelen did not speak. His gaze drifted toward a bottle near the top shelf. Its glow was faint, softer than the others.
"That one," Lyra whispered, following his eyes. "What is it?"
Kaelen's voice was quiet, almost lost. "A soldier. Long ago."
Lyra's heart tightened. She thought of Daniel Kade. She thought of Kaelen's silence as Daniel defended his choices. "Was he like you?" she asked.
Kaelen turned sharply away. His voice snapped back into steel. "He was judged. That is all."
Lyra stepped closer, lowering her voice. "And yet you still look at his bottle."
The silence between them stretched. Kaelen's eyes closed for a brief moment, as if shutting something out. When they opened again, the calm mask had returned.
From above, Aurelius's voice rolled down like distant thunder.
"Do not wander in doubt, Kaelen. Doubt is poison. Remember your role. Remember your oath."
Lyra looked up, her fists clenching. "And what of compassion? What of mercy?"
Aurelius's laughter rumbled faintly, not cruel but cold. "Mercy is given only to those who prove worthy. Compassion blinds the hand of justice. Do not speak of what you do not understand, little one."
Lyra's face flushed with anger, but she bit her tongue. She knew arguing with the unseen voice was useless.
Kaelen stood unmoving, his gaze still fixed on the closed door. His silence was louder than Aurelius's voice.
Lyra stepped back to the counter. "You hide behind silence," she said softly. "But silence is a choice too. One day it will break you."
Kaelen did not respond. His hand rested once more on the counter, still as stone.
The room waited.
The bottles glowed faintly.
And the door remained shut, as if the world beyond held its breath before sending the next soul to stand before the Judge of the Dead.