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Sulfurware Side Story #7: The Defendant Below
In the celestial realm of Ara, Mika presents a damning case before the enigmatic arbiter L, calling for the execution of a mortal in the third dimension for numerous cosmic violations. The defendant, unaware of the trial unfolding beyond comprehension, stands on the brink of annihilation. Unexpectedly, Sama—known more for his apathy than advocacy—rises in the mortal’s defense. His argument, surprisingly measured and compelling, challenges the instinct for swift judgment. He urges restraint, arguing that the mortal’s actions stem more from ignorance than true malice. Sama’s rare show of seriousness piques both Mika’s and L’s curiosity, as it becomes clear that when focused, Sama is a formidable voice among the upper order. Persuaded, L rules in favor of clemency, granting the mortal continued existence—at least for now. The verdict ripples quietly into the third dimension, unnoticed by the man who was nearly erased. Sama returns to his seat with trademark smugness, leaving the court shaken not just by the decision, but by the reminder that his indifference masks one of the sharpest minds in the realms.
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Transcript
Sulfurware Side Story #7: The Defendant Below
Ara shimmered with prismatic resonance, impossibly bright and humming with law older than light. Within its axis chamber, silence reigned as Mika paced before the seated entity known only as L. A figure cloaked in judicial stillness, L observed all, questioned little, and decided much.
Before them floated the projection: a mortal in the third dimension. Unaware, breathing air thick with consequence, his life dangled on the edge of extradimensional deliberation.
Mika’s voice was fire—cutting, swift, righteous. “He’s transgressed over a dozen inter-dimensional statutes. Temporal interference, divination, star-gazing. This is not a case of ignorance, L. It’s indulgence. I want his head. Not symbolically.”
L nodded, ageless eyes unreadable.
And then Sama stirred.
Leaning lazily in his seat, arms crossed with the defiance of one who rarely attended these proceedings, he spoke. “Let’s not pretend he’s exceptional. If we ended every third-dimensional tangle for being reckless, you’d be slaughtering by the millions.”
Mika’s head snapped toward him. “You’re defending him?”
Sama smiled, and it wasn’t kind. “I’m defending perspective.”
The chamber dimmed slightly, a sign L was listening.
Sama stood, his posture sharpening. “We sit above them, not because we are better, but because we can bear the burden of nuance. The defendant is a fool, yes—but not malicious. Not yet. I’ve seen worse rise from less.”
Mika bristled. “You always do this—wait until the theater is halfway lit, then steal the stage.”
“And yet you still bring your audience,” Sama replied coolly.
L raised a hand, and the energy in the chamber ceased to ripple. A verdict weighed.
“Sama’s defense is accepted.”
Shock fluttered across Mika’s face.
L continued. “The defendant lives. For now.”
Far below, the man in question blinked, unaware that invisible execution had passed him by.
Sama sat again, folding one leg over the other.
“Sometimes,” he murmured, “a slow descent into damnation is far more entertaining.”
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