The Judge let out a small laugh and allowed himself to sit up. When Ron saw how tall he was, a part of him wondered how he could ever become a real judge. Must be American.
"Hello there, would the two of you like to come a bit close? I'm having a bit of a slow day and want to have some more fun with this one, so it better be good." His fist of which Ron could easily fit his head into was pressed against his chin as his eyes wandered back and forth from the two. He wasn't scared. Even though the man in ash could in all likelihood obliterate him in an instant.
Ron gazed into the eyes of the Judge. He felt the experience was closest to that of watching the nuclear bomb detonate. Of course, he only saw it on the telly as they did so. He was older then, but he was younger now.
"Well, I would love to go first. Ask all your questions."
The man in the ash suit was so confident in his own abilities that he barely registered the Judge's eyes that were looking straight through him. Both he and Ron knew he was too hollow to have a story worth telling. That was for sure.
"How complex is you?"
The wandering eyes of the Judge went from the man to Ron. Even though they were complete opposites, Ron believed that he and the Judge were kin in their thought of this person being nothing but a terribly boring person.
He went on and on about his times of destroying and reshaping galaxies as much as he wanted to. That was true. But the Judge was compelled to acknowledge how there was such shallowness to the man's claim.
"So, I am a conqueror dear sir. But just know, this trial goes on because I simply allow it."
"First point to Ron." The Judge prepared the next part of the trial. This was going to be a sweep for the good. The bad was probably finding a way to fix this horrible situation. The Traveler had found someone he believed to be able to stably hold his own in almost every situation. "Now, let's go with upbringing. What got you to where you're at?" He pointed to Ron. The man's mind wandered. He was never rich or happy, but he helped those where he could.
"I was born in the Western Isles. My parents were poor. My father could only ever make do with being a lighthouse keeper. My mother had most of the time been educating me and telling me stories. When father finally got paid, he would buy groceries and have them delivered to us."
"Cool, but I just showed up one day."
The Judge shot a glare at the man before looking back at Ron in a greedy fascination. Almost like he was looking through the windows at a bakery to see the bread and other such goods. He wanted his story. He desired the man to confess to him.
Ron could've lied. He found out in an old lifetime that he was magnificent at it. But good men don't lie. They speak only the truth. How he could speak to this creature's content was like giving a jar of honey to bears. He consumed every bit of it and when things finally wrapped up his story, the Judge had a grin on his face that spoke one word, lucky.
Ron didn't consider himself lucky, nobody thought he was lucky. But for the first time in his life, he was at a point where he was able to call himself such a thing. This Judge was feeling some mixture of mercy and a desire to equalize the games. In order to cause a more entertaining and drawn-out tournament. Even if he had to tip the scales the way the wind was already blowing.
"I think that you should sit down son. Now for this fine young man, who are you exactly?"
"Young man? Do you have any idea how old I am? I've brought worlds to their knees plenty of times over and have made people who would dwarf your cry. Do you understand that?"
The Judge rolled his eyes at the ash covered man. The sound of his heartfelt laughter filled the courtroom of which he knew they were being observed inwardly. He did enjoy the smell of this creature but everything else about him was utterly unbearable. Even though he spoke the truth, this random creature was simply a one note instrument. The verdict had come to be, it was decided to destroy the one in the ash covered outfit.
Without wasting a second, the Judge waved his hand and the courtroom vanished into thin air. For a second, Ron wished to have this man alive. But he reminded himself that such a thing was a silly idea.
The sand shifted into a vortex and the white boots the man wore were slowly sinking into it. As he screamed and used every bit of his power to try to save himself, he found that the higher the sand got. When the sand rose to his empty eyes, they closed and for the first time in his life, a tear shed from them. The tear turned a square inch of sand a dark shade of brown before that too was consumed by the vortex.
"You can go along now."
The Judge was smiling at him. The smile wasn't one that can be seen as joy that good has triumphed over evil, but because of the fact that he saw something swallowed and digested before his very eyes.