Chapter 220: Daemon Of Judgement
But here's the real kicker—while reality was busy collapsing in on itself, life outside didn't even blink.
A car cruised by the empty space where Parker's mansion used to flex its wealth, windows down, bass thumping some mindless beat that was probably about heartbreak and bad decisions. Two people strolled down the sidewalk nearby, caught up in their own little bubble of useless small talk about Starbucks orders or who ghosted who last weekend.
And guess what?
They didn't see shit.
Not the disappearing mansion. Not the void that could swallow dreams whole. Nothing. One of them even shot a casual glance toward where the chaos should've been, eyes squinting like, "Huh, that's weird." But nah, to them, the mansion was still standing tall, proud, and rich as hell—like it was all business as usual.
It was like the universe had slapped a perfect mirage over the mess, a cosmic middle finger to anyone who dared peek too close. If it wasn't their business? They weren't seeing anything.
But the truth? That cold, cutting reality?
The mansion—the one Parker had scored from the system like some shiny, unbeatable gift—was gone. Just straight-up yeeted from existence. And in that eerie silence where power used to sit, the emptiness didn't just exist. It waited.
Where were the bodies of the Parker and others? A million dollars question no one would answer. Not if theirs eyes opened and snapped back to the old mansion, no, it wasn't old anymore. I'm was now the newly transformed mansion of Prince Nyxilith himself and something was forming atop the mansion—no, birthing itself into existence, like reality had been ripped open and something ancient, something wrong had just slipped through the cracks.
At first, it was just a pulse. A ripple in the air that made the sky above the estate twitch, like even the clouds weren't sure they wanted to hang around for whatever the hell was about to happen. Then the light came—bright as hell, like someone had cracked open a star and let it bleed gold and shadows all at once.
The shape started vague, a blurry mass that stretched toward the sky like it was clawing its way into this world, dragging pieces of something bigger behind it. It wasn't stone—hell no.
This thing shimmered like liquid glass, smooth and reflective but somehow... alive. It pulsed with power, humming low in the air like a warning growl that settled deep in your chest and made every hair on your body stand to attention.
Moments later, atop the mansion, like the universe's idea of a final boss, stood her.
Not just some pretty decoration—this wasn't your run-of-the-mill, "Oh look, fancy statue" vibe. No, this was divine intimidation carved into reality itself.
She stood tall and unapologetically powerful, draped in an angelic tunic that clung to her in all the right ways, shaping a figure that wasn't just beautiful—it was dangerously perfect. Voluptuous in a way that made it feel like whoever imagined her didn't just think about beauty—they obsessed over it.
This was the kind of figure that could break necks with just a glance, and yet, she wasn't even trying. Then...
Wings—at first, they were just outlines, stretching wide, bigger than life itself. One beat of those shadows, and the whole estate felt like it might crack open. The wings were impossible to ignore—four of them, stretched wide and proud. Two were purest white, blinding and pure like a righteous storm, pure and radiant in a way that felt almost too perfect—like staring directly at something holy and realizing you weren't nearly as innocent as you thought.
The other two? Pair—black as sin, slick with an ominous sheen, like oil slicking over obsidian, dripping with that dark, seductive energy that whispered, "Yeah, I judge, but I'll ruin your desires while I'm at it."
She wasn't a stone. No, this material was something else entirely—smooth, flawless, with this eerie shimmer that made her seem like she might move at any second. Her skin wasn't cold marble—it looked warm, alive, like if you got too close, she might just breathe down your neck.
And just when you thought she couldn't get any more terrifyingly perfect—horns. They didn't just grow; they declared themselves, sharp and curved like a crown meant for something that didn't rule by love but by pure, undeniable fear. Sharp, elegant, curling from her head like the universe couldn't decide if she was meant to save you or utterly break you.
Her face? Hidden beneath a thin, white veil that draped over her features with unsettling grace. You couldn't see her eyes, but somehow… you felt them. Watching. Judging. Knowing.
In her right hand, she gripped a scepter—tall, sleek, and pulsing with raw, ancient magic. Symbols of forgotten power twisted along its length, glowing faintly, like the staff itself was thinking. And resting in her other hand? A set of magical judgment scales, constantly shifting, tipping between light and dark, like the universe couldn't decide if you deserved mercy or annihilation.
It wasn't just a statue. It was a damn warning.
A presence that screamed, "Step out of line—I dare you."
And every inch of that estate seemed to whisper one undeniable truth—Judgment had arrived.
****
In the sun and shadow-soaked forest behind the school, Evelyn was just steadying herself, breath shaky, muscles tense from whatever hellish energy had been clawing at the edges of her thoughts. But then—bam.
It wasn't just pain. It was violation. Like something had ripped through her mind and went deeper—straight into her soul. A cold, razor-sharp force invaded her core, twisting, digging in places that shouldn't have been touched. Her knees almost gave out, but she stood her ground, clutching at nothing as the feeling clawed at her from the inside.
And just as fast as it came—gone.
The emptiness it left behind was almost worse, like a phantom limb that never belonged to her in the first place. But something… shifted. A spark had been lit. Something inside her—old, terrifying, and familiar in a way that made her heart race—woke up. Then it vanished, leaving her hollow and breathless, as if the moment had never happened.
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Except it had.
Her forehead burned, and then—glowed. A flash of pale grey light carved through the shadows, searing letters branding themselves across her skin for a heartbeat too long. Mysterious, ancient symbols—"????!"—etched themselves into reality for just a second. A blink, and then they were gone.
Just like that. Erased before the world could even figure out what the hell they meant.
But not everyone missed it.
Maya saw it. Oh, she definitely saw it. Yet her face didn't change, didn't even twitch. No shock, no wide-eyed panic—just that same unsettling calm. Like she had already known. Like this was just… confirmation.
And then there was Annabelle.
She didn't see the mark, but something had hit her too. Not as sharp, not as violent—but a pulse of something rippled through her veins. It didn't scream, didn't claw—no, it whispered. Cold and quiet, brushing against the edges of her awareness before vanishing like smoke on the wind.
She didn't understand it. Hell, she didn't even know what had happened. But deep down? She could feel it. Something had shifted inside her too. And the worst part?
She had no damn clue why.
*****
I understand that most people would be frustrated about the fuss about the awakening and all, even the mansion, the statues and all but you will understand as we go on. Some description I went deeper than I should've but they were necessary, hopefully you didn't get bored of reading them.