The world did not argue with Hiroto anymore.
It demonstrated.
They saw the sign before they heard the screams.
A wooden post stood at the crossroads ahead, freshly planted, wrapped with white cloth marked in black ink. The symbol was unfamiliar but its intent was unmistakable.
"This is new," Masanori said quietly.
Goro's hand rested on his sword. "That's not a warning. That's a declaration."
Yui swallowed. "Of what?"
Hiroto stepped closer, reading the inscription etched into the wood.
AUTHORIZED STABILIZATION ZONE
UNDER PROVISIONAL WARDENSHIP
Hiroto's chest tightened.
"They didn't wait," he said.
The village beyond the post was silent.
Too silent.
Homes stood intact. Roads were clean. Wards hummed faintly at the edges of perception smooth, efficient, precise.
Order.
A man in formal robes stood at the village center, surrounded by attendants and armed escorts. His posture was relaxed. Confident.
He smiled when he saw Hiroto.
"You came," the man said pleasantly. "Good. I was hoping."
Masanori's voice was sharp. "Identify yourself."
The man bowed slightly. "I am Lord Akegawa. Appointed Stabilization Authority under joint Council and Temple mandate."
Hiroto felt the shadow recoil not in fear, but in disgust.
"You replaced the Wardens," Hiroto said.
Akegawa chuckled. "No. I improved them."
Akegawa gestured toward the village.
"No distortions," he said. "No instability. No suffering."
Villagers emerged slowly, faces calm, eyes dull.
Yui whispered, horrified, "They look… empty."
"They are safe," Akegawa corrected gently. "They no longer fear the land. Or choice."
Goro snarled. "You took their will."
"I relieved them of burden," Akegawa replied. "Just as Wardens once did only now with oversight."
Hiroto stepped forward. "At what cost?"
Akegawa's smile sharpened. "At yours."
Authority Made Flesh
Akegawa raised his hand.
The air locked.
Not crushed.
Defined.
Hiroto felt it instantly structures, decisions, boundaries snapping into place around him. Not shadow-based. Not divine.
Administrative.
"This zone operates under my parameters," Akegawa said calmly. "Your variance is not permitted."
The shadow strained but did not break free.
Yui cried out. "Hiroto!"
Hiroto raised a hand, steadying her.
"So this is your answer," Hiroto said. "When the world becomes uncertain… you remove choice."
Akegawa nodded. "Choice is inefficient."
A villager stepped forward a young woman.
Akegawa gestured. "Show them."
The woman closed her eyes.
The land responded instantly distortion smoothing, stone realigning, air settling.
Perfect.
Controlled.
Masanori whispered, "She's bound."
"Yes," Hiroto said. "She's a conduit."
Akegawa smiled proudly. "No wandering variables. No negotiations. Just results."
The shadow trembled not with rage.
With grief.
"You're proving my point," Hiroto said quietly.
Akegawa raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"
"Yes," Hiroto continued. "You couldn't tolerate uncertainty. So you built a cage and called it peace."
Akegawa's voice hardened slightly. "And you let villages burn."
Silence fell.
Yui flinched.
"That was unnecessary," Akegawa said. "All of it. You could have prevented this."
Hiroto met his gaze. "At the cost of becoming you."
Akegawa sighed. "I hoped you'd understand."
He snapped his fingers.
The zone tightened.
Hiroto felt pressure crush inward not physically, but conceptually. His options narrowed. Paths closed.
The shadow resisted but carefully.
This was not a fight it could win by force.
Hiroto breathed slowly.
Then he did something unexpected.
He stepped aside.
Not physically.
Philosophically.
He stopped trying to act as himself.
The shadow loosened.
The zone faltered.
Akegawa frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Not being central," Hiroto replied.
The villagers shifted uneasily.
The wards flickered.
Yui felt it first. "Something's wrong."
Akegawa barked, "Hold alignment!"
But the system hesitated.
Because it was built around one authority.
And that authority had just been ignored.
Hiroto turned to the villagers.
"You don't need me," he said. "And you don't need him."
The young woman conduit gasped, clutching her chest.
"I…I can't feel the boundary," she whispered.
Akegawa's composure cracked. "Reassert control!"
But control required belief.
And belief was slipping.
The zone destabilized not violently, but unevenly.
Akegawa staggered.
"You're sabotaging stability," he hissed.
"No," Hiroto said softly. "I'm showing its cost."
The wards collapsed inward.
Not exploding.
Releasing.
The villagers cried out confusion flooding back, fear returning with it.
Akegawa fell to his knees, gasping.
"You would doom them to chaos," he spat.
Hiroto knelt across from him.
"No," Hiroto said. "I doom them to responsibility."
The zone dissolved completely.
The land did not scream.
It hesitated.
Then breathed.
The villagers looked around terrified, alive, uncertain.
Yui helped the conduit woman stand.
"She's free," Yui whispered.
Masanori stared at Hiroto. "You didn't fight him."
"I didn't need to," Hiroto replied. "He was fighting the world."
As they left the village, Hiroto felt it clearly.
Akegawa was not unique.
He was a prototype.
The Council would not stop here.
They would refine this.
Improve it.
Multiply it.
Goro said grimly, "They'll build more like him."
"Yes," Hiroto replied.
"And next time?" Goro asked.
Hiroto looked ahead, shadow heavy at his side.
"Next time," he said, "they won't make the mistake of letting me walk away."
Far beyond the land, the Sovereign adjusted its model.
Authority could be centralized.
Variance could be suppressed.
But suppression required constant energy.
And humans… were inefficient enforcers.
The Sovereign did not intervene.
It waited.
As night fell, Hiroto stood alone, staring at the stars.
The world had chosen its counterexample.
And he had just shown why it was worse.
But the cost had been revealed:
From now on, every solution offered against him
would be cleaner, crueler, and harder to undo.