The courtroom was thick with tension, the air saturated with the weight of unspoken truths waiting to be unraveled. The prosecutor stood poised, her sharp gaze flickering between the judge and the three accused men: Rudi, Bima, and Arief. Their once-confident postures had eroded under the mounting pressure of undeniable evidence.
Kenzo leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as his truth-seeing ability allowed him to witness more than the court's surface. The tangled web of corruption woven by these men was coming undone, strand by strand.
Audrey exhaled slowly, her heightened perception absorbing every microexpression on the accused's faces. They were sweating—not from the heat, but from the sheer panic creeping into their bones.
"Your Honor," the prosecutor continued, holding up a thick folder, "the following testimonies will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the accused not only abused their power but were also directly involved in orchestrating systematic violence against innocent civilians."
The gavel struck. "Proceed."
The doors creaked open as the first witness stepped in—a middle-aged man with a permanent limp. He clutched a cane tightly, his hands trembling. His eyes darted nervously around the room before landing on the three accused men, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"Please state your name for the record," the prosecutor prompted gently.
"Ahmad Raharjo," the man answered, his voice hoarse but firm. "I was a victim of police brutality under Inspector Rudi and Commissioner Bima's direct orders."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom.
"Please, tell the court what happened."
Ahmad took a deep breath, then began. "Three years ago, I was arrested under false charges. I was just a street vendor, trying to make a living. But one night, a group of officers raided my stall, accusing me of selling illegal goods. They beat me until my ribs cracked. I saw Rudi standing there, watching, approving. He didn't stop them. Instead, he laughed. He called me 'a nobody who needed to be put in his place.'"
Bima scoffed loudly, but the judge silenced him with a glare.
"Mr. Raharjo, do you have any proof of this incident?"
Ahmad nodded. "Yes. Hospital records, witness accounts. And..." His hands trembled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered old phone. "A recording."
The prosecutor took the device and played the audio. The room fell into stunned silence as the chilling sounds of pained screams echoed through the speakers, followed by a cold, unmistakable voice:
"Make sure he never walks properly again."
The court erupted into chaos. Journalists scribbled furiously, cameras flashed, and the judge had to slam the gavel multiple times to restore order.
Kenzo smirked. The cracks in Bima and Rudi's defense had just begun to widen.
---
As the trial proceeded, more survivors stepped forward. A young woman named Lestari, a former university student, recounted how she had been abducted during a protest against police corruption. She had been tortured and left for dead in a ditch—only to miraculously survive and flee abroad. Now, she was back to ensure justice was served.
Damian clenched his fists. His enhanced strength made it difficult to sit still as he listened to the horrifying stories. Every fiber of his being wanted to tear these men apart, to make them feel the suffering they had inflicted. But he knew their vengeance had to be delivered the right way.
Hana sat beside him, her face unreadable. But inside, her mind reeled. Memory manipulation wasn't just her ability—it was her curse. As she listened, she could feel the pain of each victim as if she had lived through it herself. It would be so easy to erase their trauma, to let them forget. But was that truly justice?
The prosecutor took a step forward. "Your Honor, these are not isolated incidents. This is a pattern—a systemic abuse of power that has ruined countless lives. And if I may, I'd like to introduce the final piece of evidence."
A large screen descended. A video began to play, showing bank transactions, offshore accounts, and confidential reports—evidence of bribes, extortions, and backdoor dealings that tied Rudi, Bima, and Arief to some of the most heinous crimes in the city.
Kenzo's lips curled into a knowing smile. His truth-seeing ability had helped uncover much of this, working in the shadows alongside investigative journalists who had risked their lives to expose the corruption.
Rudi's face turned red. Bima's hands clenched the table. Arief muttered something under his breath.
"These transactions," the prosecutor continued, "show not only embezzlement but direct involvement in the trafficking networks that have plagued this country for years. You funded it, you protected it, and you profited from it."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Audrey watched the accused men intently. Her perception was razor-sharp, cutting through their attempts to mask their fear.
Rudi was seething, but his rage was empty—it was the anger of a man who had lost control.
Bima tried to maintain a blank face, but his fingers twitched. He was unraveling, piece by piece.
Arief had gone pale, his lips quivering. He knew this was the end.
The judge finally spoke. "Given the overwhelming evidence presented today, this court has no choice but to move forward with the charges of corruption, abuse of power, and crimes against humanity."
The courtroom erupted again. Gasps, cheers, and whispered conversations filled the space.
Rudi shot up from his chair. "This is a setup! I am a servant of the law!" His voice cracked with desperation. "This—this is all fake! You have no right to judge me!"
Audrey tilted her head slightly. "You judge yourself, Rudi. And you have already been found guilty."
For the first time, true terror flashed in his eyes.
Hana let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Damian grinned, stretching his fingers as if anticipating a fight that would never come. Kenzo remained still, his mind already calculating their next move.
This was only the beginning for them.
---
As they exited the courthouse, the sun was setting, casting long shadows on the pavement. The four of them stood together, watching as reporters swarmed the scene.
"We did it," Hana murmured.
"Not yet," Kenzo said, eyes still dark with thought. "This is one battle. The war isn't over."
Damian smirked. "Then let's make sure we win the next one."
Audrey turned to them, her gaze unwavering. "We will."
They walked away from the chaos, their presence unnoticed by the world.
But the world would soon know their names. And justice would be served—one way or another.
The gavel's sharp crack echoed through the courtroom, silencing the murmurs that had been growing with every revelation. The air was thick with tension, a mixture of anticipation and unease. All eyes were on the judge, an elderly man with weary eyes that had seen too much injustice over the years. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before addressing the court.
"After reviewing the overwhelming evidence presented, this court has reached a verdict," the judge began, his voice firm yet heavy with the weight of responsibility. "Rudi Hartonto, Bima Santoso, and Arief Kusuma, you have been found guilty of corruption, abuse of power, and crimes against humanity."
A collective gasp filled the room, quickly followed by a cacophony of voices. Reporters scribbled furiously, cameras flashed, and the gallery buzzed with whispers of disbelief and satisfaction.
Kenzo leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes never leaving Rudi. The once-arrogant officer sat frozen, his hands gripping the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. Kenzo could see beyond the surface—Rudi wasn't just angry. He was afraid.
"For the crimes committed against innocent civilians, for the abuse of power, and for the countless lives you have destroyed," the judge continued, "this court sentences you, Rudi Hartanto to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole."
A stunned silence followed. Then chaos.
Rudi shot to his feet. "No! This is a farce! A setup! I am a protector of the law! You can't do this to me!" His voice cracked, desperation bleeding into his words.
Audrey, seated among the spectators, watched him with cold detachment. Her perception allowed her to see the exact moment Rudi realized the truth—there was no escaping this. No power, no bribe, no connection could save him now.
The judge ignored Rudi's outburst and continued. "Bima Santoso, for your direct involvement in orchestrating police brutality, obstruction of justice, and human rights violations, you are sentenced to fifty years in prison."
Bima flinched, but unlike Rudi, he remained seated. His face was carefully composed, but his fingers trembled slightly against the polished wood of the table. Audrey knew he was already calculating—thinking of favors he could still call in, possible loopholes to exploit. But she also saw something else: resignation.
"Arief Kusuma, for your role in aiding and abetting these crimes, you are sentenced to twenty-five years in prison."
Arief exhaled shakily, his face pale and drawn. He looked down, not even attempting to argue. He knew there was no point.
The gavel came down one final time. "This court is adjourned."
The courtroom erupted. Some people cheered, others argued, and journalists pushed forward, desperate for statements. The guards moved in quickly, surrounding the convicted men. Rudi thrashed against them, snarling.
"This isn't over! You think you've won?! I have people! Connections! You won't get away with this!"
Damian smirked from his place near the back. "Man, they always say that."
Hana exhaled, rubbing her temples. "And yet, here he is, screaming like a cornered rat."
Kenzo's expression remained unreadable. "He's afraid. He knows this isn't just about prison."
Audrey nodded in agreement. "Everything he built is crumbling. His name, his wealth, his legacy—it's all being erased."
As they stood to leave, Kenzo caught sight of a group of survivors in the gallery. Ahmad Raharjo was among them, his eyes wet with emotion. Lestari stood beside him, her hands clenched into fists. The weight of justice, long overdue, had finally arrived.
Kenzo turned to his team. "This isn't the end. The system is still rotten. There are more like him out there."
Audrey met his gaze, her expression resolute. "Then we'll bring them all down."
Damian stretched, rolling his shoulders. "As long as I get to break a few more doors down, I'm in."
Hana smirked. "You and your love for destruction."
"Hey, someone's gotta do the fun part."
As they stepped out of the courthouse, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city. It was a new chapter—not just for them, but for everyone who had suffered under Rudi's reign.
Justice had been served.
But the war was far from over.
The cold, suffocating air of the prison cell clung to Rudi like a second skin. The once-powerful commissioner now sat hunched over on the small metal bench, his hands clasped together in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking. His cell, though larger than most, still felt unbearably small. The walls, stained with age and neglect, closed in around him. Outside, distant shouts echoed through the corridors, a reminder that he was no longer above the law. No longer untouchable.
His mind raced as he replayed the verdict over and over again.
"For the crimes committed against innocent civilians, for the abuse of power, and for the countless lives you have destroyed," the judge continued, "this court sentences you, Rudi Hartanto to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole."
The gavel's final strike had echoed in his ears like a death knell.
Now, all that remained was silence. And the crushing weight of his disgrace.
A metallic clang broke through his thoughts as a guard unlocked the door. Rudi didn't lift his head at first, assuming it was another routine check-in. But then he heard a voice—soft, yet laced with an unmistakable edge of resentment.
"Rudi."
His head snapped up, eyes widening as he saw his wife, Nadya, standing just beyond the bars. Beside her, their son, Adrian, clutched her hand, his small frame stiff with tension.
Rudi scrambled to his feet, his heart lurching in his chest. "Nadya... Adrian... you came."
Nadya's eyes, once filled with admiration for the man she had married, now held nothing but cold detachment. She stood tall, her face composed, but there was a storm raging beneath her calm exterior.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice devoid of warmth.
Rudi swallowed hard and stepped closer to the bars. "Nadya, listen to me. This is all a misunderstanding. I was set up! I—"
"Enough," she cut him off sharply. "I sat through that trial, Rudi. I listened to everything. I heard the testimonies, saw the evidence. Do you think I'm blind? Do you think our son is deaf?"
Adrian flinched at the mention of his name but remained silent, his grip tightening around his mother's fingers.
Rudi's desperation deepened. "Nadya, please... I did what I had to do. For us! For our future!"
Nadya let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "For us? You call destroying innocent lives something you did for us? Tell me, Rudi, when you ordered those people to be beaten, tortured—murdered—did you ever think about us? About Adrian?"
Rudi opened his mouth, but no words came. He couldn't lie. Not now. Not in front of her. Not in front of Adrian.
Nadya took a deep breath before continuing, her voice steady but firm. "I came here to tell you this in person. I'm filing for divorce."
It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Rudi reeled back, his fingers gripping the cold steel bars. "No... Nadya, you can't. You can't do this! You're my wife! We have a family!"
"No, Rudi," she corrected, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "We had a family. But you destroyed it. I refuse to let Adrian grow up in the shadow of your crimes. He deserves better."
Adrian shifted uncomfortably, his small voice finally breaking through the tension. "Mom… can we go now?"
Nadya nodded before turning back to Rudi one last time. "I won't let your corruption touch our son. I'm changing our last names. From now on, Adrian is no longer a Hartanto. And neither am I."
Rudi's breath hitched. He reached out instinctively, but his fingers grasped nothing but empty air. "Nadya, please—!"
She stepped back, her decision final. "Goodbye, Rudi."
Without another word, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. Adrian hesitated for the briefest of moments, his gaze meeting his father's one last time. There was no hatred in his young eyes—only disappointment. And that, somehow, hurt Rudi more than anything else.
Then he, too, turned and followed his mother, disappearing down the hall.
Rudi stood frozen, the echoes of their footsteps fading into silence. He felt hollow. Stripped bare. Everything he had built, everything he had fought for—it was all gone.
And now, all he had left were the cold, unyielding walls of his prison.
As he sank back onto the bench, his mind spiraled into darkness. The weight of his crimes, his betrayal, his loss—it was suffocating.
For the first time in his life, Rudi was truly alone.