Chapter 53 – The Chains of Truth

  Inside the Judiciary Hall—

  The air was heavy.

  Not with justice.

  With exhaustion.

  Old men behind gilded desks shuffled papers they didn’t need to read, asked questions they already had answers to.

  Cameras weren’t allowed.

  The audience was silence itself.

  Only one man spoke:

  Grim.

  And he barely whispered.

  "Did you intend to massacre an entire nation?"

  "...Yes."

  "Did you target civilians knowingly?"

  "...Yes."

  "Do you understand the gravity of your crimes?"

  "...Yes."

  Each yes drove a nail into his coffin.

  None of them were true.

  But none were lies either.

  In the corner, arms folded, gaze sharp—

  The security officer watched.

  Said nothing.

  But he saw it.

  Grim wasn’t defending himself.

  He was sentencing himself.

  Punishing himself for crimes that weren’t his,

  Because no one else would.

  The punishment escalated.

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  Stripped of citizenship.

  Stripped of rights.

  Stripped of name.

  No last meal.

  No last wish.

  No family.

  No friends.

  No belongings.

  Nothing to hold.

  Nothing to return to.

  Nothing to dream about.

  Grim signed away his own existence with the pen of silence.

  The security officer—

  No.

  Not just an officer.

  Mika Trenval.

  And Mika saw what most wouldn’t:

  Grim was killing himself…

  Without a blade.

  The hearing ended with a cold slam of the gavel.

  Like the execution had already begun.

  Back inside the van.

  Two passengers.

  The world outside—grey, distant, fading like a half-forgotten dream.

  Grim sat by the window, head bowed.

  The handcuffs heavier than any battlefield he’d crossed.

  Mika sat across from him, fidgeting.

  He cleared his throat.

  Said nothing.

  Cleared it again.

  Still nothing.

  Finally, in a move of cosmic bravery, he leaned forward, voice unsure:

  "Uh... y-you did good back there."

  A pause.

  "Y'know. Not snitching. Staying strong. Respect."

  Silence.

  Mika shifted.

  "Like, I mean... not good good. Just... admirable. You know? Not many could... uh... yeah."

  Grim turned his head slowly.

  Dead-eyed.

  Like breathing was a decision he hadn't finalized.

  Mika panicked.

  Heart sinking to his ankles.

  "I mean—you know—you’re not alone, right?" he stammered.

  "Maybe someday you’ll have people who understand.

  Or... uh... a pet? Hamsters are cool?"

  Grim looked at him.

  A long look.

  Not hate.

  Not blame.

  Just the pity of someone who'd outlived hope.

  And finally, he spoke.

  "Thanks," he said.

  "But I don't need it anymore."

  Not angry.

  Gentle.

  And somehow, that made it worse.

  Mika sat back,

  Crushed by the kindness of a man with nothing left.

  The van jolted.

  Mounted a ramp.

  Outside the window:

  The black belly of a military air carrier loomed.

  A coffin big enough for a nation.

  The vehicle rolled inside.

  The doors shut.

  And darkness took them.

  End of Chapter.