The Concordance's Tribunal arrived two weeks later.
I'd spent that time preparing. My Subject count was up to forty-three. My Point balance had reached 1,891 through
aggressive tax collection and personal task completion. I'd purchased several defensive wishes, including enhanced
reaction time, danger precognition, and limited telekinetic shields.
And I'd learned something important: the Sovereign's Aegis wasn't just defensive. It was preemptive. Any threat to my
existence, physical or metaphysical, was automatically neutralized before it could manifest.
Which meant that despite the Tribunal's power, they couldn't actually kill me.
That realization had changed everything.
The Tribunal manifested in the middle of downtown during rush hour—presumably to make a statement. Reality tore
open like a wound, and three entities emerged.
The first was Meridax, the Archon I'd met before. The second was something that resembled a living constellation, its
body composed of stars and void. The third was the most disturbing—it looked perfectly human, a beautiful woman in
flowing white robes, except her eyes were empty sockets that leaked liquid light.
Around us, normal humans were frozen again, locked in that same temporal stasis. But I could still move.
"SOVEREIGN OF THE BROKEN CONTRACT," the constellation-entity spoke, its voice like colliding planets. "I AM
OBSERVER VRAX. THIS IS ADJUDICATOR LUMINA. WE HAVE COME TO DELIVER JUDGMENT."
"Judgment," I repeated. "Based on what trial? What evidence? Or does the Concordance just execute whoever it wants
without due process?"
"YOUR CRIMES ARE SELF-EVIDENT," Lumina said, her empty eyes somehow still conveying contempt. "YOU HAVE
RECRUITED FORTY-THREE INDIVIDUALS INTO SERVITUDE. YOU HAVE GRANTED WISHES THAT VIOLATE
Chapter 4: The Tribunal
NATURAL LAW. YOU HAVE DISRUPTED THE ASCENSION PATHWAYS THAT MAINTAIN COSMIC BALANCE."
"I've given desperate people hope and the means to improve their lives," I countered. "Crimes? You call that crimes?
What I call crimes is hoarding power, gatekeeping access to improvement, maintaining systems that keep people
suffering while you comfortable assholes watch from your higher dimensions and do nothing."
"YOUR PERSPECTIVE IS FLAWED," Vrax said. "MORTALS ARE NOT MEANT TO WIELD REALITY-WARPING
POWER. THEY LACK THE WISDOM AND RESTRAINT NECESSARY. HISTORY HAS PROVEN THIS ACROSS
COUNTLESS WORLDS."
"Then give them the wisdom," I shot back. "Teach them restraint. But you won't, because that would threaten your
monopoly on power. You want mortals to stay weak and limited and controllable."
"ENOUGH." Meridax's form rippled. "THE TRIBUNAL HAS REACHED ITS CONCLUSION. SOVEREIGN A, YOU ARE
SENTENCED TO COMPLETE METAPHYSICAL DISSOLUTION. YOUR CONTRACT WILL BE UNRAVELED. YOUR
SUBJECTS WILL HAVE ALL MEMORIES OF THE SYSTEM ERASED. YOU WILL BE REMOVED FROM REALITY AS
IF YOU NEVER EXISTED."
"EXECUTION WILL COMMENCE IN THREE SECONDS."
I felt the Aegis activate, that invisible absolute shield springing up around me. I also felt something else—the Regulator
entering Protected State, seizing total control of the Contract's functions to prevent coercion or interference.
The three entities raised their hands in unison. Reality-warping energy coalesced around them, building to catastrophic
levels. They were preparing to unmake me at the fundamental level, to edit the universe's source code and delete my
existence.
The energy reached critical mass and discharged—
—and splashed harmlessly against my Aegis like water against diamond.
The entities froze. Not metaphorically—they actually stopped moving, their forms locked in expressions of shock.
"IMPOSSIBLE," Meridax whispered. "NOTHING CAN RESIST CONCORDANCE ERASURE PROTOCOLS.
NOTHING."
I laughed. Actually laughed, because the irony was beautiful.
"You're not listening," I said. "I'm not some rogue mortal who found a loophole. I'm the Sovereign. My system was
designed by something that understands reality better than you do. And it gave me absolute protection because it knew
assholes like you would try exactly this."
I raised my hand, electricity crackling between my fingers. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to leave. You're
going to report to your Concordance that I'm untouchable. And you're going to stay the fuck away from me and my
Subjects, or I'll start making wishes specifically designed to disrupt your operations across all three hundred forty-two of
your planetary systems."
"YOU CANNOT THREATEN THE CONCORDANCE," Lumina said, but her voice wavered.
"I just did. And I can back it up." I smiled. "But I'll make you a deal. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone. I don't
actually want a war with you. I just want to build my own power base here on Earth without interference. You've got
hundreds of other worlds to manage. Let me have this one."
Vrax's constellation-form flickered uncertainly. The three entities conferred in some form of communication I couldn't
perceive. Then Meridax spoke.
"THE CONCORDANCE DOES NOT NEGOTIATE WITH MORTALS."
"Then I guess we're going to war," I said pleasantly. "Your move."
Long silence. Reality itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then, slowly, the entities began to fade.
"THIS MATTER IS NOT CONCLUDED," Meridax said as they dissolved. "WE WILL RETURN WITH GREATER
FORCE. THE CONCORDANCE HAS EXISTED FOR EONS. WE HAVE ENDED THREATS FAR GREATER THAN
YOU."
"Looking forward to it," I called after them.
They vanished completely. Time resumed. The rush-hour crowd continued walking, unaware that a confrontation between
a mortal and cosmic judges had just taken place on their street.
I stood there for a moment, adrenaline singing through my system.
Then I pulled up my Admin Panel and sent a message to all my Subjects:
The gods tried to kill me. They failed. We're at war now. New tasks incoming. High risk, high reward. Time to see what
we're really capable of.
Forty-three confirmations came back immediately.
The war began in earnest the next day.
I couldn't attack the Concordance directly—I didn't know where their higher-dimensional infrastructure was located, and I
wasn't yet powerful enough to reach it anyway. But I could attack their operations on Earth.
The Regulator had identified several "nodes"—locations where the Concordance maintained a presence in our reality.
Ancient temples that were secretly monitoring stations. Natural landmarks that served as dimensional anchors. Even
certain individuals who were unknowing agents of cosmic law.
I sent my Subjects to disrupt them all.
Marcus and a strike team destroyed an ancient temple in Nepal that was maintaining a "causal stabilization field"—
basically a metaphysical net that prevented too much reality alteration in a given area. The Regulator's Mundane
Integration covered it up as a tragic earthquake.
Jessica and her group hacked into a government database that was being subtly influenced by Concordance agents,
erasing their access and replacing it with our own surveillance.
Other teams targeted the unknowing agents—people who'd been blessed with small amounts of cosmic power to serve
as the Concordance's eyes and ears. We offered them invitations to the Contract, and most accepted. The ones who
didn't had their blessings stripped by focused wishes.
Every disruption earned Points. Every node we destroyed weakened the Concordance's grip on Earth. And every victory
made my Subjects more loyal, more invested in our war.
The Concordance responded with their own attacks, of course. They tried to turn my Subjects against me using
telepathic influence—the Regulator's Failsafe activated and neutralized them immediately. They tried to frame me for
crimes to get normal law enforcement involved—Mundane Integration erased the evidence. They even tried to
assassinate me directly, sending some kind of cosmic hitman.
My Aegis reduced him to dust before he got within ten feet.
The stalemate frustrated them. I could tell because their attacks became increasingly desperate, increasingly sloppy.
They'd existed for eons maintaining control through overwhelming power, and now they'd encountered something they
couldn't crush.
It was making them irrational.
Good.