Tristan planted his own bow into the dirt, holding his hand out as he took hold of the strands of snow-white light that swam through the air like fish in the sea, "This is the will of those who came before. Those who served the Divine in the past, present, and future. Allow them to judge your actions, my friend."
"Judge me? Judge…me?" The Champion of Light's voice crawled from the ear-filling hum of the radiant pillar, beginning to strengthen with a twisting distortion, "I am the will of the Divine! You, nor nobody else beneath the heavens may judge me!"
The screeching spiel came naturally from the once stoic figure, whose silhouette flailed amidst the burning light that rained down upon his back.
Tristan watched with clear pain in his eyes, taking no pleasure in the act as he flicked his fingers across his bow once more, "Forgive me, Nero. I administer my own judgment, as one of the Four Heavenly Paladins: burn away your violence in the World Order."
