Chapter Three


“Hail Justitia.”

The sound of a thousand men and a thousand women rising in unison rippled through the cavernous room. Together as one they held their hands before them, their palms facing the sky as they held the hand of the man or woman beside them. Row upon row stood together in solidarity, the last in each row resting their forlorn hand on the shoulder of the brother or sister standing before them until every individual had joined together to become one long chain linked together by faith and clarity.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be pacified.”

The great doors opened slowly to reveal the long procession of veiled people. Behind the silky film, they were all blindfolded in the likeness of Justitia, and their gold halos glittered in the morning sun as they slowly snaked down the aisle.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall be fulfilled.”

Upon reaching the altar, one by one, they positioned themselves before the congregation. Kneeling, they bowed their heads as each head was cleansed with frankincense and myrrh

“Blessed are the devoted, for they are the children of Justitia.”

A silver mask appeared. Dressed in white from head to toe, they were erased of any detail – of gender, of race, of history, future, present, of all distinguishing detail so as to better serve their people. Save for the lotus engraved on the forehead of the beautiful mask, there was nothing – absolutely no humanity to be found in the cold splendor of the unmoving visage.

“Blessed are the selfless for theirs is the love, forgiveness, and wealth of the people.”

The veiled tilted their heads back, their headdresses catching the light of the windows. Raising their faces towards the mask, they smiled with relief and innocence and pure, unadulterated trust. It was time.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today,” rang the voice, “to witness the deliverance of these 12 men and women.”

Excitement rippled through the audience as they patiently waited with faint smiles for the ceremony to begin.

“My children.” The mask eyed the kneeling row. “Have you accepted Justitia as your savior and come to believe that Her Way is the Way of Righteousness and Goodness?”
“We have.”
“Is it your desire today to make that belief public by being purified?”
“It is.”
“And thirdly, do you seek forgiveness for your transgressions and wish to repent for your sins against Her Way?”
“We do.”
“Then it is my honor and privilege to purify you in the name of Justitia, our forebears, and the Republic. Hail Justitia!”
“Hail!” cried out the transgressors.
“Hail!” cheered the spectators.


And as the forgiven slumped to the ground, glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling and crimson flowers blooming on their chests, you could just pick out the euphoric expression of a middle-aged woman, thick frame, black hair with brown eyes, olive skin; approximately 64 inches in height among the purified and saved.


One Comment Add yours

  1. Sean says:

    Well that was disconcerting. Religious services can often look like this I think if you look at them from the outside with the chanting and whatnot. In a sense really, this doesn’t come across all that different from something like a Catholic mass or the like though that’s one of the few I can speak of. A curious being to worship though as I would not normally viewed Lady Justice as a first choice, but then for this society I suppose it does fit. Justice is associated with order after all, which is a virtue I’m sure this government believes it espouses with how it’s been described thus far.

    Dressing as her is certainly an odd practice and that Silver Masked individual who I presume is the equivalent to the priest just sounds creepy. I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure what’s going on at the end though. This is clearly some common ritual used for those considered sinners or those who would mess with the way things are and among them is the woman who lost her son. She seems to have changed her tune through what I presume is some form whether it be drugs, brainwashing, or something else. Are they dying at the end though? Is crimson flowers blooming a way of saying that something has happened and they’re now bleeding from their chests (I feel I’ve seen that sort of reference before I believe) or are there actual flowers on them? I’m leaning towards dead given the mention of them slumping but I’m unclear on how exactly they are dying.

    Anyway, this provides another look into how the world operates that’s nice to see.

    Thank you 🙂


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