Judge leaned back in his chair, quill in hand, feeling like a director about to shape the fate of his characters. He stared down at the parchment, which had definitely seen better days. Sure, there were ether-powered machines, time loops, and dark forces swirling around him, but none of that compared to the delicate art of scriptwriting.
Lucifer approaches his prey, not with bloodlust or the intent to kill, Judge wrote, the words coming to him smoothly.
Suddenly, a vision flashed before his eyes, like a theater screen projected straight into his brain. Judge blinked, a bit taken aback by the weirdness of it all—he could see the vision playing out in his mind while still being fully aware of his surroundings. It was like he had two brains working at once.
