"Name?"
In the not-so-large courtroom, the judge seated at the highest bench was questioning the criminal below. His voice had a metallic quality to it.
That was because the judge wore a golden mask forged in the likeness of the Three Gods. At first glance, one might have mistaken him for a follower of the Living Tribunal.
Yet behind the judge stood statues of the Three Gods, their sharply sculpted faces gazing coldly and mercilessly down upon the mortals at their feet.
Three-god combinations were the most common form of minor demon-god groups in the Marvel Universe. The Vishanti, Trinity of Ashes, and Anti-Trinity were all trios. After all, a triangle was the most stable structure.
Usually, when such little groups dealt with outsiders, one person played the good cop, one played the bad cop, and the last acted as the impartial mediator. It was all part of the routine.
But TVA's Three Gods apparently had not grasped that essence. One look at their statues' faces made that clear. One looked like he was thinking, "You owe me money." The second looked like, "My horse died." The third looked like, "I've been constipated for a year."
Other than not baring their teeth, the expressions on those statues were more severe than the last. The employees had to stare at those faces every day; not developing depression was proof that they had strong mental resilience.
But the person on trial below had no intention of showing the judge any respect. The long-haired man dressed in a very rock-and-roll style twisted his neck and answered with scorn:
"You don't even know who I am? I'm your daddy! Hahahaha."
Though trapped behind bars and dressed in an orange-red prison uniform, he acted as arrogantly as if he had returned home.
The judge on