Dragon summoner

The judge looked solemn, torn between compassion and duty.

The prosecution lawyer gave a slight nod and turned back to the bench.

"If emotion isn't enough, let me present Exhibit A."

He picked up a remote and pressed a button.

A large screen lit up behind him. Footage began to play.

A grainy security video appeared: it showed a dark corridor… and in it, Vishu and luice were going storeroom .

" The footage" the lawyer declared " it was recorded while both of them going there and no one else so it proves that he is the culprit".

The courtroom erupted.

Reporters scribbled furiously, some audience members gasped, others whispered, "It's him… that's the boy…"

Vishu took a shaky step back. The world spun around him. The fog, the voice, the sword—none of it mattered anymore. The truth was being buried beneath fear and accusation.

And just then—

Suddenly, the heavy doors at the back of the courtroom groaned open once more. All heads turned.

Ryan stepped in.

His face was pale, gaunt—haunted. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his posture sagged under the crushing weight of guilt. He looked like a ghost of the boy he once was. The silence that followed his entrance was deafening. Even the shuffle of papers stopped. Even the judge looked up.

Vishu's eyes widened. He hadn't expected Ryan to come.

Ryan walked slowly down the aisle, every step echoing like a drumbeat of judgment. People whispered his name in disbelief, murmurs rippling like waves.

He paused in the middle of the courtroom, raised his head, and locked eyes with the judge. Then, in a voice raw but resolute, he said:

"My Lord, I need to speak."

The judge studied him carefully. "You are not a part of this trial, young man. Who are you?"

Ryan took a deep breath, his voice trembling but loud enough for all to hear.

"I'm the one who should be standing in that box… not him." He pointed directly at Vishu. Gasps erupted around the room. "He didn't do this. It was me. I did it. And I… I'm ready to confess everything."

Vishu's heart dropped. His mouth opened, but no words came.

The judge banged the gavel. "Silence in the courtroom!" He turned sharply to the guards. "Bring this boy forward."

Ryan was escorted to the front, standing just feet away from Vishu. Their eyes met—one filled with guilt, the other with shock and sorrow.

"Explain yourself," the judge demanded.

Ryan swallowed hard, then looked straight ahead.

"Because if I don't speak now… I'll never forgive myself.

After Ryan's trembling confession, a heavy silence engulfed the courtroom. His eyes, glassy with guilt, dropped to the floor as he fell silent, unable to lift his head.

The judge, brows furrowed, leaned forward and spoke with measured calm, "The security footage clearly shows only two people inside the storeroom—Vishu and Luice. If that's the case, how can you claim to be the culprit?"

Ryan's voice cracked as he forced the words out, "Because… because the footage is incomplete, Your Honor. It's only half the truth. I deleted the rest—the part where I entered that storeroom before everything happened. I was scared. But I can't keep hiding anymore. I swear… I'm telling the truth. Vishu is innocent. He had nothing to do with it. It was me. Only me…"

Gasps rippled through the courtroom. The silence that followed was sharp, suffocating.

Vishu stood frozen, his heart pounding like a war drum. For a moment, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Ryan—was sacrificing everything.

The judge sat back, eyes closed in brief contemplation, then opened them with a weighty finality. His voice rang with solemn authority:

"The court has heard the confession of the true offender. It takes courage to own one's sins, but justice must still prevail. Based on this revelation, I declare Vishu innocent of all charges. Ryan—who has admitted his guilt—will be held accountable. He is hereby sentenced to a juvenile correction facility."

The gavel struck like thunder.

Tears welled up in Luice's mother's eyes—not from relief, but from the bittersweet pain of knowing the truth too late.

Ryan didn't resist as the officers approached. He looked back at Vishu one last time, eyes full of remorse… and something else—peace.

As the judge's gavel echoed through the courtroom, the room remained eerily still—until a soft sob broke the silence.

Luice's mother stood up, her hands trembling, clutching the photograph of her son she had held throughout the trial. Her face was pale, lips quivering, eyes red with tears that refused to fall until now.

She looked at Ryan, her expression caught between fury and heartbreak.

"You…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You were his friend. You used to laugh with him… call him your brother

And now—this? Why?" Her voice cracked as her grief burst through the surface. "Why did you do it?"

Ryan lowered his eyes, shame pouring from every inch of his body. "I… I don't know what came over me. I wasn't in my right mind. I never meant to hurt him.I—I'm sorry."

But the apology hung in the air, empty and powerless against the storm inside a grieving mother's heart.

She turned to Vishu now, her gaze softening slightly. "I blamed you," she said hoarsely. "I cursed you. I looked into your eyes and saw the face of a murderer. But you were just a boy… carrying a burden that was never yours."

Tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "I failed him as a mother. I couldn't protect him. And in my pain, I almost destroyed another child."

Vishu's eyes welled up. He took a small step forward, but words failed him.

The judge motioned gently for the officers to escort Ryan away. As they led him out, Luice's mother turned to him one last time. "May your punishment teach you what love and guilt truly mean. And may my son… find peace."

She collapsed into her seat, sobbing silently into the photo of Luice, her shoulders shaking as years of grief and guilt began to unravel.

As the echoes of sorrow still lingered in the courtroom, Vishu stood silently amidst the crowd, his heart heavy with pain and guilt. Watching Luice's mother break down shattered something inside him.

A quiet thought crept into his mind—"I wish… I wish all of this pain could be erased. If only they could forget. If only this burden could be lifted from their hearts. But… how could I possibly erase memories? That's impossible."

Just then—his pocket began to tremble.

Startled, Vishu gasped, his eyes darting downward. "What…?"

His hand reached into his coat and pulled out the sword—no longer lifeless, but glowing with a vibrant, pulsating blue light, as if it had heard the silent ache of his soul. The air around him shimmered faintly, charged with unseen energy.

The sword vibrated in his hand, humming with a mysterious frequency. It felt alive—responding to his emotions, his thoughts.

Then, in a blinding flash, it flared—bright blue light erupted, bathing the entire courtroom in a wave of brilliance.

Everyone froze. Time seemed to pause.

The pain in the room—the tension, the grief, the confusion—it all seemed to melt away in an instant. Faces once twisted in sorrow softened. Tears dried. Breaths calmed.