Curse the Mainframe! 90 Judgemen

Dominique's knees collided harshly with the floor, causing an audible thump as he slumped down. The sound was so out of place, yet at the same time, expected. Dominique himself seemed completely unperturbed, certainly.

Still, his face was emotionless – as it always had been outside of the battlefield.

There was no one else in the hall except for the various elders, and the sect master.

After dragging him here bodily, Laney left, but not before she gave him another subtle glance.

Dominique ignored her.

The wood was cool to the touch, and Dominique allowed himself to slump down on it, not feeling any motivation to keep up any appearances.

Not that he had in the first place, anyway, but he was even less inclined to do it now.
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He was still bound – hands behind his back. Though, it wasn't like it really mattered. If he wanted to, he was still able to break out, but he held no illusions about getting away alive. Any one of these old fogeys would be able to take him down within a blink.

Seated on a pretentious throne, a few steps higher than the rest of the room, the sect master frowned. Below, there were two lines of various elders that framed the throne in a semi-circle.

The throne was a gaudy, pretentious-looking thing, but they were unable or willing to get rid of it since it had been preserved since founding father of the sect brought it in.

Surprisingly, the design of the throne did indeed add to the natural authority and majesty that the sect master carried about him. The man looked at ease as he sat in the seat, unbothered by how he appeared to the rest of the room.

The Heavenly Ascension Sect Master, Dorian Falren, looked down at the bound figure of his disciple slumped unceremoniously onto the ground.

He tapped a finger on the arm rest of the throne, thinking.

No one else spoke, but Dorian was sure that he could feel them glaring at Dominque even from where he stood.

"Dominique," Dorian said at last, breaking the silence.

Dominique tilted his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Still, he didn't make a sound.

"Explain yourself," he demanded, his voice cold.

There was a strange tension in the air as the elders stared at Dominique's unbecoming figure. It was as if they were waiting for him to slip up before they struck, like the mantis stalking the cicada.

Dominique looked at them emotionlessly, unbothered by the apparent power play that was being carried out in front of his eyes. He had seen so many of these throughout his years that he could no longer be bothered – if he had ever bothered in the first place.

The temperature in the room dropped a little when he showed no signs of answering the question.

One of the elders couldn't hold back anymore, glaring harder at Dominique, the eyesore.

"Answer the sect master, Dominique! When you are spoken to, you will respond!"

Dominique's eyes moved slowly to the elder in question, bored. "Why should I?"

"You insolent-!"

"Enough."

Just one word from Dorian was enough to quell the words of the elder that had gotten himself all worked up. The elder choked on the words that were about to leave his mouth, taking a step back sullenly.

"I will not repeat myself, Dominique."

Dominique wanted to sigh but refrained from doing so, annoyed. "I went out for some fun," he rasped, his lips curling into a smile at the memory. His eyes glinted with a faint hint of the fanaticism that he had shown so freely in the Rothschild's mansion.

The temperature in the room dropped lower at his words as some of the elders started radiating a killing intent.

They looked at the bloody smile on the Sin's face, feeling disgusted at the implications that he'd went out for a massacre for reasons only for his own entertainment.

Just as the elder's rage hit a peak, the bound man opened his mouth to speak again. "Don't worry. I didn't kill too many. Just enough for what I want."

"You-" the same elder growled out, choking on his words. He could not fully voice his disgust at the atrocities that were implied in the man's tone.

"Polren, enough."

Polren choked back the words that wanted to leave his mouth, holding his tongue only because it was the sect master's direct orders.

The elder, had witnessed the Sin's mission once first-hand, and never had he been so utterly disgusted.

The mission had been a massacre from start to end, allowing him to witness too many atrocities that had been carried out in the name of the mission.

The worst part was that so many of those needless deaths could have been avoided had the Sin just curbed himself slightly. There had been no need for so many of those –

Polren took a breath before he lost any more of his temper. Everything Dominique did went against his deeply rooted moral code. He'd spoken time and time again. They should have long expelled or put down Dominique, but the sect master never agreed.

Polren was the elder in charge of the disciplinary hall, but his decisions were always overthrown whenever they concerned the bound man in front of him.

Though Polren understood why this was so, that did not make it any easier to stomach. He was sure that his authority had suffered because of the sect master's overruling of his decisions, and that just couldn't be allowed any further.

The smirk that remained on Dominique's face irked various elders, but they were silent. They were waiting to see what the sect master did to discipline the Sin.

Time and time again, the sect master had been able to provide reason and explanation for giving the Sin only a slap on the wrist before he was once again let loose – this time, from the mouth of the horse instead, Dominique had admitted that he had blatantly broken the sect rules just for fun.

Not only that, he had admitted that he had killed various people, most likely innocent, just to satiate his desire and lust of violence.

The man was the personification of all the negative traits in Sins, never once failing to live up to expectations.

Dominique was an uncertain variable that the sect could not afford. Though there were a few other Sins in the clan, they were controllable – mainly due to the sigil – but Dominique was never dealt with any harsh punishments that would cause him to reign in his future actions.

Dorian was silent – and that was almost as much as give away as speaking out.

He had made concession time and time again, but Dominique never seemed to appreciate it. Had he been too lax on him? Was that why he always dared to act out, despite the threat of the sigil in his left eye?

Dorian knew that Dominique would not be able to escape punishment today.

He should have seen it coming. Dominique had to face the consequences for his own actions. He could not blatantly flaunt the sect rules like this – no matter how much he wanted to.

Polren glanced at Dorian, receiving his nod.

He stepped forward, where the Sin didn't even bother to dignify his presence with a glance.

"Dominique Falren, your punishment is as follows – three years of solitary seclusion. One hundred lashes from the disciplinary whip. Tightening of the sigil's restrictions. You will be judged again after a month of seclusion to determine if you will require further discipline."

The judgement was delivered in a sterile tone, giving away none of the disgust that Polren felt for the sin.

This was about as harsh as it got for a Sin – for any other Societype, it was only ever half as harsh. Just being a Sin was enough for the punishment to double. It was a flawed system, but it seemed to work, so there was never any cause to change it.

Of course, this was barring execution. Dorian didn't think that he would be able to handle watching his son's death in front of his very eyes – which was why he suspected that Polren did not order it. The elder would not chance having his decision overruled yet again.

But still, the sect master made no move to contest the discipline. Dominique had indeed been getting a little heavy handed in his actions, but he had never so openly flaunted it like this before.

"Dismissed," Dorian said, his eyes following Dominique as he was bodily dragged out of the hall, the grin on the Sin's face growing as he licked his lips, uncaring that he was about to be punished.

As his father, and his master – he had failed in teaching him.

Chapter end

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