Essay seed — from the Shiva Purana Volume 1 ingest. Not drafted; this is the argument and the spine.
Three sisters walk into a hall. Four famous teachers come in. Everyone stands.
Something holds the sisters down. Not pride, not rudeness — a force outside them pins them to their seats, and the text says so plainly. They sit there, surprised, as startled by their own bodies as anyone watching.
Then they are cursed for not standing, and the curse says the punishment reflects "the power of your own deeds."
The man cursing them has been impaired by the same force. The text says that too, in the next sentence.
1. It happens nine times. Not a scene — a machine. Three goddesses, a demon's father, the god of desire, a mountain twice, a mother, and the creator of the universe himself, each disabled by the same named force and then billed for what the disability produced. See Disabled by Māyā, Then Held Liable.
2. The text supplies the acquittal and convicts anyway. Kāma's case is the cleanest: the god's concentration breaks before Kāma acts; Śiva gropes the woman and names the transgression as his own; the arrow is fired and explicitly declared to have failed — and then Kāma is incinerated, faster than a plea can be spoken. Every exonerating fact is on the page, in order. See The Arrow That Failed and the Archer Who Burned.
3. Thirty chapters later, the same offence gets a pardon. Brahmā, under the identical impairment, disgraces himself at the wedding and Śiva moves to kill him — until Viṣṇu and the assembled gods deliver a page of praise containing no defence at all. He lives. The variable is not guilt. It is whether anyone was in the room with a stake in the proceedings continuing. See Brahmā at the Wedding.
4. And the exonerated man agrees. Restored at last, granted a boon he could spend on anything, Kāma spends it asking pardon "for that crime that I had committed earlier" — and the gods console him with "a man enjoys the consequences of what he has himself done." See Kāma Comes Back and Apologises.
A system can run total determinism and full liability at the same time, in the same paragraph, and never notice — and the people inside it will supply the confession that closes the gap.
The interesting part isn't the injustice. It's that the machinery survives contact with its own contradiction because nobody assembles the evidence, and because the person best placed to assemble it is the one who most needs to believe the verdict. Being restored by your accuser is a faster route to agreement than any amount of pressure.