"State your name for the record."
Silence.
The courtroom held its breath.
Behind reinforced glass, a sea of eyes stared—press, grieving families, politicians wrapped in cold suits and colder hearts. Some watched with hatred. Others with morbid curiosity. No one with mercy.
The boy in the steel chair looked far too ordinary to carry the weight of the world's wrath. Shackled hands. Empty eyes.
A university student, once.
A symbol of betrayal, now.
The judge leaned forward, voice as sharp as a blade.
"Name."
After a pause, he spoke—quiet, cracked.
"Haruki Saitō."
Whispers spread through the gallery.
Haruki: the one who once meant sunlight.
Now cast as the shadow of a nation.
The judge continued, reading from a screen that glowed like a funeral flame:
"Haruki Saitō—you stand accused of violating the National Crisis Protection Protocol, committing treason against the Japanese government, sabotaging classified medical operations, and unlawfully removing government property—Subject A-09, otherwise known as Ayla Hanami."
"Do you deny these charges?"
Haruki didn't look up. He stared at the floor as if he'd already fallen through it.
"No."
Shock rippled through the chamber. Somewhere, someone cursed. Another wept.
The judge pressed on.
"Do you admit to abducting Subject A-09 and destroying the final viable source of Crimson Flu antibodies?"
Haruki slowly raised his head. His eyes finally met the judge's.
Tired. Hollow. Fierce beneath the ash.
"She was never your property," he said.
"She was a person."
The silence cracked—then shattered.
"Monster!"
"She could've saved us all!"
"He chose her over billions!"
Fists hit the glass. Cameras flashed. The gavel slammed like thunder.
"ORDER! ORDER!"
But Haruki was done speaking. He had already been judged by a world that couldn't understand what she meant to him.
They called him a villain. A thief. A murderer.
But in the end…
He would still choose her.
Even if it meant being their devil forever.