The demonstration was not a parade or ritual. Ulfric meant it to be unavoidable: a public display in the Bureau's central courtyard. The Council would be informed, the High Judge might appear, and agents would be forced to witness whatever Siheon had become.
Siheon didn't want spectacle. He wanted answers. He accepted because he had to know the world's reaction without the muffling of rumors.
Ulfric put him in the center of a rune-etched circle and motioned for silence. Seraphina stood near, her fingers white around the hilt.
"Show them," Ulfric said softly.
Siheon closed his eyes, inhaled. The systems hummed like distant instruments.
〈CELESTIAL SYSTEM: Perform controlled reveal. Calibrate light frequency to non-lethal.〉
〈ABYSSAL SYSTEM: Make it breathtaking. Break a window. Maybe two.〉
He let the Duality Surge breathe through him. First, a halo of gold washed his shoulders; then, like tide and undertow, a counterwave of black poured outward, curling at the edges like smoke. The courtyard gasped. Light and shadow braided, not canceling but complimenting—something that made angels step back and demons in mirror worlds tilt their heads.
Ulfric watched with a mix of deadly pride and fear.
Siheon felt it—the prophecy humming like a scab; the choices waiting like knives. He stepped forward and used the shard he'd practiced. He touched the stone with a fingertip of dual flame.
The rune under his foot changed color—gold to black to a steady violet neither heaven nor hell used. It held. The crowd leaned in.
And from the Council tiers, a single figure rose—an arbiter perhaps, or a judge, or someone older than creed.
He walked down the stairs, bare feet touching the marble like a rumor.
He stopped before Siheon and looked into his eyes.
"You hold the balance improperly," the old man said.
Siheon felt the systems converge—holding, steadying, ready.
The old man smiled, and for a second it was terrible and kind at once.
"Prove it."
Siheon inhaled. The two systems sang—one lullaby, one war song. He stepped forward to answer the old man and, with both hands raised, chose not heaven or hell but something else. The courtyard held its breath as light and shadow fused into a single, blazing column.
The column shot upward—toward the sky, toward whatever watched—and everything went white.
When sight returned, Siheon was gone