CHAPTER 58: TWO KINDS OF CELLS

Marcus woke on a thin mattress that smelled like disinfectant. For a second, he couldn't tell which world he was in. The clean white walls and fluorescent lights said real world, but his mind kept processing what had happened in Valdris.

Alice's betrayal. The spores. Prison.

Then reality crashed down. He was in jail here too. Police custody. Real world consequences for real world actions.

At least this cell beat the medieval dungeon he'd woken up in last time. No rats, no moldy straw, no mysterious stains on the walls. The officers here even smiled sometimes.

"Morning, kid."

Marcus looked up to see a police officer approaching with a sandwich and a cup of coffee. The man tried to look stern but couldn't pull it off.

"Take this. Sorry for the wait. We'll be taking your statement after your lawyer gets here."

"Thanks, officer," Marcus said, accepting the food. His stomach rumbled. When had he last eaten? He remembered the bitter soup they'd served in Valdris, but that meal belonged to a different body, a different stomach.

The officer. His name tag said "Muhammed". Pulled up a chair. "You threw off yesterday's shock pretty quick. I looked you up, and it's your first arrest." He leaned back. "I'm Officer Muhammed, by the way. Some people might find it ironic that I'm the primary officer on your arrest, you know what I mean?"

He laughed at his own joke. Marcus wasn't sure he got it.

"What made you search for all those things online? Were you angry at someone? About failing classes?"

Marcus opened his mouth to explain. "No, it was for the game-"

"Don't say anything!"

The voice came from the hallway. A man in a cheap suit with a big tie and too much cologne burst through the door. "We deny everything he said without me being present!"

Officer Muhammed rolled his eyes. "Oh boy. Your parents called the first search result on Google, didn't they? Good luck, kid." He stood and adjusted his belt. "He didn't say anything important. We can start the real interview after he finishes breakfast."

The lawyer looked maybe thirty, with slicked-back hair and nervous energy. He sat across from Marcus and pulled out a yellow legal pad.

"Look kid, deny everything, say nothing, okay? Follow my wording and you'll walk. I guarantee that."

"But I didn't do anything," Marcus protested. "I searched stuff for a GAME."

Officer Muhammed poked his head back in. "So you didn't buy any ingredients for bombs?"

"I didn't," Marcus said firmly. Not in this world, he thought.

"See?" the lawyer said triumphantly. "Clear denial. We're good."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of questions. Officer Muhammed and his partner took turns asking about Marcus's internet searches, his purchase history, his social media posts. Each time Marcus tried to explain about the D&D campaign he was planning, his lawyer would interrupt.

"We deny that."

"You can't ask it like that."

"Leading the witness."

Marcus felt like he was watching his life through a window. His parents kept calling the lawyer. He could hear the phone ringing every hour. His mom was worried sick.

The weird thing was, sitting in this clean, well-lit cell, Marcus felt relaxed compared to the medieval dungeon. At least here nobody was planning to execute him for treason. Probably.

"Your parents are driving down tomorrow," Officer Muhammed said during one of their breaks. "They sound worried."

Marcus nodded. He could imagine the conversation. His mom crying, his dad trying to stay calm while calling every lawyer in Illinois.

Meanwhile, in another world, his family there was wondering why he and Tom had gone missing. Or maybe they were in danger because of Marcus. Sara was mixing explosive powders in a warehouse, completely alone.

Two worlds. Two different kinds of trouble.

His lawyer kept reassuring him. "First offense. No materials purchased. Research for creative purposes. We'll get this dismissed, no problem."

But Marcus wasn't worried about the legal stuff. He was worried about the gap between worlds.

In Valdris, people were counting on him. Tom was being tortured for information. Master Thymon might be dying in a cell somewhere. Sara was risking her life to complete work he'd started.

And here he sat, eating institutional sandwiches and answering questions about his Google search history.

"One more question," Officer Muhammed said as evening approached. "This D&D campaign you keep mentioning. You got any notes about it? Character sheets? Campaign materials?"

Marcus's lawyer started to object, but Marcus held up a hand. "Yeah. In my dorm room. My roommates know about it too."

For the first time, Officer Muhammed looked interested. "What's the campaign about?"

"A guy who gets transported to a fantasy world where there's this evil wizard taking over everything. He has to use modern knowledge to help the good guys fight back."

Officer Muhammed and his partner exchanged looks.

"Kid," Muhammed said slowly, "that's a cool concept for a game."

His lawyer looked confused. "Is this helping our case or hurting it?"

"Helping," Muhammed said. "Shows creative thinking, not criminal intent." He made a note in his file. "We'll want to talk to those roommates."

As night fell, Marcus lay back on his narrow bunk and stared at the ceiling. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Somewhere down the hall, another prisoner was watching TV.

Tomorrow his parents would arrive. There would be more questions, more lawyers, more explanations. Eventually, this would get sorted out.

But in Valdris, tomorrow might bring executions. Or war. Or the complete collapse of everything he'd been trying to build.

Marcus closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. In a few hours, he'd find out if Tom was still alive.

For now, all he could do was wait.