Valer did not rise.
Time passed.
Not seconds—moments. Long enough for him to register every detail of the space around him.
The stone beneath his knee was cold. Perfect. Unmarred by age or use. It felt less like something built and more like something declared to exist.
The man—Kael—did not look at him.
That was worse than being watched.
Valer had knelt before gods. He had bowed to ancient monarchs and cosmic horrors. They all noticed submission.
This one didn't seem to care.
Kael leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"This place echoes," he said mildly. "I should add walls or something."
Valer's fingers twitched.
Walls?
This hall alone could house a city.
"My Lord," Valer said carefully, voice steady only through centuries of control, "may I ask… where we are?"
Kael glanced at him.
"My place," he said after a moment. "I think."
Think.
Valer felt something crack inside him.
This was not ignorance.
This was casual ownership.
Valer had felt the erasure when he arrived. His killing intent—something that had shattered armies—had vanished as if it had never existed.
Not blocked.
Not countered.
Rejected.
This place did not allow hostility.
And the one sitting on the couch did not need to enforce that rule.
Before Valer could speak again, the air shifted.
It wasn't violent.
It was… curious.
Something else was being pulled in.
---
Lyenne of the Seeing Grove had learned long ago to trust discomfort.
Truth left patterns. Lies left scars.
She had been walking through moonlit forest paths, staff tapping softly against roots older than most kingdoms. Her eyes glowed faintly green as her ability scanned the world around her.
Everything was normal.
Then suddenly—
Nothing was.
The forest didn't vanish.
It folded.
Like a book closing.
Lyenne stumbled forward, her staff slipping from her fingers as solid stone replaced soil beneath her feet.
She froze.
Her eyes flared bright green.
Truth-Seer instinct.
She saw nothing.
No lies.
No half-truths.
No distortions.
That alone was impossible.
Every place had lies. Even holy lands. Even divine realms.
Her breath caught.
She lifted her head.
A vast hall stretched before her.
A kneeling vampire.
And a man sitting casually on a couch, holding a glass of red liquid.
Her vision stuttered.
Not because she saw deception—
But because she saw nothing at all.
Around him, truth did not bend.
It ended.
Lyenne's knees gave out.
She fell to one knee without meaning to, staff clattering beside her.
"I… greet the Ruler," she whispered.
Kael startled slightly.
"Ruler?" he repeated. "That's a bit dramatic."
Valer did not look at her, but he felt it.
The elf had seen something terrifying.
---
A third presence arrived without warning.
Heat surged.
A deafening clang echoed as a massive anvil slammed into the stone floor, sparks and molten metal splashing outward—only to vanish before touching anything.
Brun Stonehand rolled instinctively, hammer raised.
"What idiot dragged me out of my forge—"
He stopped.
The fire in his blood went silent.
Brun had forged weapons for gods. He had worked in furnaces hot enough to melt reality's edges.
This place didn't suppress him.
It ignored him.
The molten metal vanished. The heat faded. The anvil cooled instantly.
Brun slowly lowered his hammer.
His sharp eyes took in the scene.
The architecture.
The kneeling vampire.
The trembling elf.
Then the man on the couch.
Brun understood.
Not because of power.
Because craftsmen knew materials.
And this place was not made.
It was absolute.
Brun exhaled slowly and knelt.
"Brun Stonehand," he said. "Master of the Deep Forges."
Kael stared at the three of them.
"…Is kneeling mandatory or something?"
None of them answered.
---
Silence stretched.
Kael rubbed his face.
"Look," he said, "I don't need worship. I just need help."
That sentence landed harder than any command.
Lyenne lifted her head slightly. "Help… with what?"
Kael gestured vaguely around the hall.
"This place," he said. "I want it livable. Maybe a small city. Somewhere quiet."
Quiet.
Valer closed his eyes.
Lyenne's fingers trembled.
Brun let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"A city," Brun repeated. "Here?"
Kael frowned. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Brun said carefully. "It's… perfect."
Valer nodded slowly. "With rules like these, nothing could threaten it."
Lyenne swallowed. "Truth itself would have nowhere to hide."
Kael relaxed.
"Good," he said.
He waved a hand lazily.
"Then help me build it."
The air pulsed once.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
A rule settled into existence.
None of them needed it explained.
They felt it.
---
Far away, the System observed.
No warning appeared.
No correction followed.
It could not interfere.
---
Kael leaned back on the couch.
"This is already less boring," he muttered.
Outside the House of Sin, the universe continued as usual.
But something had changed.
Truth had found a place without lies.
Creation had found endless material.
And power had found a ruler who didn't want it.