The Return Undeserved

The sky didn't crack—it shattered.

Shards of divine luminescence rained like glass swords across the Tribunal ruins, burning the ground into rivers of molten gold. The Spiral Throne descended with the weight of a judgment older than kings.

And Jin Mu stood alone at its center, arms outstretched, the Mirror of the Unruled hanging like a black eclipse behind him.

A thousand distorted reflections spiraled across its glass, each one showing the world as it should not be.

One showed the Tribunal empty, bones instead of judges.

Another showed Jin Mu wearing the Spiral Throne himself.

One showed nothing at all.

The Divine Executor raised his hand again.

"This distortion violates holy precedent. Cease."

"Your laws are rot," Jin said, voice layered with hundreds of echoes.

"And this mirror?"

"This mirror is where your divinity dies."

The moment Jin stepped into its radius, reality buckled. The Tribunal disappeared. Instead:

The world turned to mirrorglass and void.

An alternate dimension, crafted from loopholes, forgotten edicts, and every broken commandment the Black Emperor had ever exploited. It was his court, not theirs.

In this dimension, Jin was not bound by the Order of the world. Time flowed strangely. Sigils crawled across the air. The throne's laws faltered here.

And more terrifyingly:

Jin Mu's abilities changed.

His Distortion deepened. His Bribes carried lingering echoes of memory. His Majesty turned compulsion. And his body—already cracked by Sequence—bled silver like ink.

The Executor landed.

Every step he took bent the rules of the Mirror, trying to reassert order.

"You are not allowed. You are not permitted."

"I never asked," Jin answered.

He lunged.

"Black Emperor's Fang: Hollow Decree!"

A crescent slash tore through even the throne's shield—a law-forged blade wrapped in cursed distortion.

The Executor staggered—

Only to retaliate by unleashing Judgment Glyph: Noose of Heaven, a shining noose that wrapped around Jin's throat from a sigil above.

Jin tore it off with a roar.

The Mirror rippled, his form splitting into three versions.

"Distortion Echoes."

Each Jin cast a different bribe—

"Bribe: Despair."

"Bribe: Guilt."

"Bribe: Doubt."

The Executor screamed—not in pain, but in logic collapse.

"This reality is false. Reversion necessary."

"NOW!" Camellya shouted.

"EVERYONE IN!"

She dashed in with a burst of Disorder under her feet, punching the air to twist distance.

Xue Yiran vanished—reappeared directly above the Executor.

"Snow-Fanged Chainstrike!"

Her blade cracked the divine barrier, leaving a gash that bled starlight.

Su came next, dragging two sequence sigils behind her like serpents, launching them forward with a warcry.

"Red Spiral — Severance Art!"

A vortex of heat erupted, slamming into the throne's chest.

Even the throne flinched.

Camellya wasn't done. She warped into his blind spot, delivering a Crush of Entropic Veins to his back.

"That one's for my pride, you celestial freak!"

He roared, backhanding her mid-air—

—until a shadowed Jin slammed his palm into the Executor's chest.

"Black Emperor's Judgement: Reverse Manifest."

For a moment, the Executor saw himself—not as a god, but as a hollow man.

It staggered him.

But not enough.

He threw everyone back with a wave of divine law: Exclusion Pulse.

Camellya hit a wall. Su tumbled. Xue landed in a crouch, panting.

Only Jin stood again.

But the strain showed.

Silver lines crawled up his neck. The Mirror behind him cracked.

"He's… he's still not falling," Su whispered.

"He's stronger than the whole damn Tribunal," Camellya cursed. "Jin's mirror is keeping us alive, not winning."

"Then we burn it all," Xue said coldly. "And make our own law."

Jin whispered beneath his breath.

"I can feel it."

"The Mirror… it won't hold much longer."

"But maybe… if I take him into the final shard—"

The Mirror behind him flashed—revealing a final realm.

One no one should touch.

The Ash Court.

Even the Executor paused.

"That place is forbidden."

"Exactly."

"Come into my throne, you bastard."

Jin leapt.

The Executor followed.

And the Mirror of the Unruled shattered into a thousand pieces of broken fate.

Silence.

Not the kind that waits.

The kind that watches.

The Mirror shattered behind them—its remnants drifting like glass constellations in the void. And in its place rose the Ash Court, a landscape of cracked marble, burned banners, and thrones made of kneeling silhouettes turned to stone.

Here, time breathed. Space trembled.

And law was optional.

The Divine Executor stepped forward.

His divine light dimmed here. His voice less resonant.

"This place should not be."

"Neither should I," Jin said.

The Black Emperor sigils on his arms now glowed like firebrands. His presence in the Ash Court multiplied—dozens of faint Jin MUs walked the ruins beside him, all past possibilities discarded by his regression.

One looked bloodthirsty. Another broken. One was smiling—eerily.

Only this Jin walked alone, focused.

"You rule order," Jin said.

"This court rules ruin."

The Executor raised his arm. Commandment Blades materialized in the air—twelve of them, each inscribed with a divine law.

They moved like guillotines.

"Then die for your heresy."

Executor: "Heaven's Decree – Chain of the First Sin!"

Flaming chains whipped through the Ash Court, anchoring themselves into the shadows and trying to bind Jin.

Jin whispered.

"Sequence: Ash Sovereign—Rejection Bloom."

A single black flower bloomed in his palm.

And reality rejected the chains—they unraveled mid-air like fabric struck by rot.

The Executor stumbled.

"You dare create your own Sequences?!"

"No," Jin said.

"I inherit what was denied."

Jin's hands wove strange sigils, not from this world—splinters of abandoned sub-paths, fused through the Mirror's authority.

"Mark of the Unjudged."

"Brand of the Final Loop."

"Curse of the Unremembered."

The Executor was struck by three simultaneous distortions.

His voice warped. His commands twisted. He staggered.

"This... is illegal… by all definitions—!"

"That's the point," Jin said, stepping in.

His palm glowed.

"Black Emperor's Verdict: Shatter Sovereign."

He struck the throne. The impact cracked reality.

The floor beneath them collapsed—and they both fell deeper into the Ash Court.

They landed in a dead cathedral made of hollow praise. Statues of false gods lined the walls, their mouths open, screaming eternally.

The Executor stood again—but now dripping blood.

Not red.

But white.

"If I fall here, I take you with me."

He raised a forbidden glyph—one even Jin flinched at.

"Final Judgment: Collapse of Order."

A supernova of divine backlash built around him.

"You'll unmake this world," Jin said.

"Better unmade than ruled by trash."

The sigil detonated.

But Jin had already moved.

He activated the one gift Camellya had passed to him. Something forbidden. Something he swore never to use again.

"Sacrifice Sigil: Give Memory."

His own memories were torn from him—hope, pain, joy, despair—fueling a singular construct.

"Ash Court Final Technique—Coronation of the Forsaken."

The sky bowed.

A twisted crown of flame and shadow appeared behind Jin.

His eyes turned black with golden rings.

"Executor," he said, "be dethroned."

The explosion of power crushed the divine glyph in the Executor's hand.

The world bent.

Twisted.

And inverted.

The Divine Executor shattered from the inside, screaming not in agony—but in realization.

"You… were never meant to lose."

Jin stepped over the dust.

"No."

"But I was meant to suffer."

"Now you understand."

The Ash Court faded.

And the Tribunal ruins returned.

Jin emerged from the collapsing dimension, cracked and bloodied, but alive.

The Mirror was gone.

The cost was immense.

But the war was not over.

Xue, Camellya, Su, and Shen rushed to him as he collapsed to one knee.

"You did it," Camellya whispered.

"No," Jin rasped.

"I started it."

And so the weakening flames of his memories were blown out like a candle in the storms of the great heavens.