JUDGEMENT OF THE WILD

It was an ordinary morning in the city of Thalamis if you could call towering behemoths walking alongside humans ordinary. Neon lights reflected off the scales of a dragon-like creature perusing a food stall. A half-beast child chased a hovering ball while her mother a centaur shouted at her to stay within the protective barrier.

The year was 3083.

"Fucking waste of air…"

San muttered under his breath as he brushed past a crowd outside the courthouse. His black suit, a bit wrinkled from last night's escapade, hung loosely over his lean frame. His black hair fell messily over his sharp eyes, giving him the look of someone perpetually at war with the world—and maybe with himself. He clenched his fists as he walked, knuckles whitening from the force of suppressed rage.

"San Vasquez, Esquire," the automated door announced as it scanned his badge.

The courtroom was packed. On one side, a human plaintiff his skin was pale, eyes hollow stood their shaking. His arm was wrapped in bandages, his face contorted in fear as he stole glances at the creature across from him. The defendant was a werebeast, its eyes golden and slitted, fangs poking out as it grinned lazily.

San didn't hesitate.

"Your Honor, this isn't a trial it's a farce." His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. He dropped his case file on the desk with a thud. "A werebeast mauls a man in broad fucking daylight, and we're here debating whether it was 'instinctual'? That's the legal equivalent of wiping your ass with the Constitution."

"Mr. Vasquez!"

"Let me guess. The defense will argue 'Awakener Privilege.' Again." He sneered, pacing with a feral intensity. "These bastards get their powers, and what happens? Laws play catch-up, and bodies pile up."

The judge narrowed his eyes. "Mind your language, counselor."

"Respectfully," San said, not sounding respectful at all, "this thing ripped a man's arm off because it got 'startled.' If that's not negligence, I'll fucking retire."

The courtroom erupted in gasps, but San barely noticed. His mind drifted back

—To flames. To blood. To the screaming.

He was seven. His parents had argued that day. His father, a law professor, believed the government needed stronger regulations on awakeners. His mother, a social worker, agreed. But words were dangerous when the newly empowered roamed freely, drunk on their newfound strength.

San had heard the blast before he saw it. His house was reduced to rubble in seconds. Fire scorched his skin, the scent of burnt flesh and ash choking his lungs. He remembered his mother throwing herself over him, shielding his body with hers.

And then.....nothing.

The next memory was a cold government building. A faceless bureaucrat patting his head and offering him a stale candy as his siblings were carted away. The welfare system swallowed them whole. He never saw them again.

"Counselor!"

San blinked. He was back in the present, fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms.

"Right." He exhaled, regaining his composure. "In conclusion, Your Honor, let's stop pretending awakeners don't need accountability. It's not instinct; it's privilege. And I'm done letting these monsters hide behind it."

He turned toward the jury, his dark eyes burning. "My parents died because there were no laws. My siblings disappeared into the system because no one gave a damn. Don't let that happen again."

The judge cleared his throat. "Verdict pending deliberation."

San smirked as he packed his briefcase. Another battle fought. Another crack in the wall of injustice.

As he stepped outside, the sun was setting, casting a blood-red glow over the city. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, the bitterness settling in his lungs.

"This world's a goddamn mess," he muttered, flicking ash onto the ground. "But I'll burn it down before I let anyone else get fucked over."