CHAPTER 62: JUDGMENT DAY

Marcus woke up in the same holding cell, but his thoughts were still in Valdris. Did I hit General Koroth? What happened after the shotgun blast? The bandaged hand from his makeshift weapon throbbed with phantom pain that couldn't possibly be real here.

His lawyer was banging on the cell bars. "Wake up, Marcus! I scheduled us a hearing with the judge today. We need to go over your testimony one more time."

Mr. Mason looked tired and smelled of cheap coffee and cheaper cologne. "Listen, kid, this should be straightforward. Judge Patricia Hernandez is fair but no-nonsense. The key is showing this was genuine academic research, not any kind of threat."

An hour later, Marcus found himself in a real courtroom for the first time in his life. The wood-paneled room felt imposing with its high ceiling and American flag. His friends from D&D were there. Emma sat in the front row with her nervous expression, adjusting her thick glasses every few seconds. His roommates Jake and Tyler were there too, both looking worried but trying to be supportive.

His parents sat rigid in the second row, his mother dabbing her eyes with a tissue while his father held her hand tightly.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Patricia Hernandez," called the bailiff.

Judge Hernandez was a woman in her fifties with graying brown hair pulled back in a practical bun. She had kind but sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything as she settled at the bench.

"You may be seated. We're here today for the arraignment of Marcus Chen. Mr. Chen, you're represented by Mr. Mason, is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Marcus replied, his voice cracking slightly.

The judge looked through some papers, then at Marcus. "Mr. Chen, you're charged with intention of possession materials intended for explosive devices and conducting dangerous experiments in university housing. These are serious charges, especially in today's security climate. Do you understand the nature of these charges?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr. District Attorney, please present your case."

The DA, a serious man in his forties, stood up. "Your Honor, while the defendant may claim this was for academic purposes, we must consider public safety. The defendant was researching explosive materials, purchasing chemicals, and conducting experiments in a university dormitory where hundreds of other students live. His internet search history shows extensive research into bomb-making techniques, including searches for 'medieval explosives,' 'gunpowder ratios,' and 'homemade detonators.'"

The DA continued, "In today's climate, we cannot take such activities lightly. Even if his intentions were benign, his actions created a clear and present danger to his fellow students."

Marcus felt his stomach drop. When laid out like that, it sounded terrible.

Judge Hernandez nodded thoughtfully. "Mr. Mason, your response?"

Mr. Mason stood, straightening his tie. "Your Honor, my client is an eighteen-year-old college freshman with no criminal record. This was research for a creative writing project. Specifically, a detailed fantasy role-playing game campaign. Mr. Chen is known among his peers as an extremely dedicated researcher who goes to extraordinary lengths to make his fictional worlds realistic."

"Can you provide evidence of this fictional project?" Judge Hernandez asked.

"Absolutely, Your Honor. We have testimony from his gaming group and extensive written materials found during the search that clearly show this was world-building for a fantasy setting."

Tyler stood up from the gallery, unable to contain himself. "Judge, uh, Your Honor? I'm his roommate. Marcus researches everything obsessively. Like, everything. One time he spent three weeks researching medieval soap-making because his character was supposed to be an inventor. We actually made soap in our bathroom sink. He's not dangerous. He's just really, really into making his games realistic."

"Mr. Nakamura, please sit down," Judge Hernandez said, but not unkindly. "You'll have a chance to speak in a moment."

The DA objected. "Your Honor, manufacturing soap is hardly comparable to researching explosive devices. Even in a dormitory bathroom, such activities present a clear safety hazard to other residents."

Judge Hernandez raised her hand. "I'd like to hear from the investigating officer first. Officer Muhammed?"

Officer Muhammed stood. "Yes, Your Honor. During our investigation, we conducted a thorough search of the defendant's belongings and dormitory room. We found extensive handwritten notes about a fantasy world called 'Valdris,' detailed character backgrounds, political systems, and what appears to be a very elaborate role-playing game campaign."

"What about the explosive materials research?" the judge asked.

"We found notes about bomb-making, yes, but they were mixed in with notes about medieval agriculture, political systems, magic spells, and fictional character development. It was... actually quite impressive world-building, Your Honor. Very detailed. The defendant had created an entire fictional economy, social structure, even languages."

Officer Muhammed paused, then continued. "I have three kids who are into this gaming stuff, Your Honor. What we found looked exactly like what my oldest son does for his games, just much more detailed. There were no actual materials, no plans for real-world application. It was all in the context of this fantasy world."

"Thank you, Officer. I'd like to hear from the character witnesses now."

Emma stood up nervously. "Your Honor? I'm Emma Rodriguez. I run the Dungeons & Dragons club that Marcus joined. He came to us wanting to create this incredibly detailed medieval fantasy campaign. He had this inventor character who fought dark wizards using technology instead of magic. He spent hours researching everything to make it realistic. Not just weapons, but economics, agriculture, social systems. He's not some crazy person with a bomb. He's just a really dedicated game master who maybe got a little too into his research."

Tyler was called next. "Your Honor, I'm Tyler Nakamura, Marcus's roommate. This is totally normal for him. He researches everything obsessively. When he made that soap I mentioned, he watched like fifty YouTube videos about different techniques. When he was working on farming stuff for his game, he checked out every book the library had about agriculture. That's just how his brain works. He has to understand everything completely."

Jake was the last to speak. "Your Honor, I'm Jake Martinez, also his friend. I'm pre-med, so I understand research. Marcus approaches everything like it's a thesis project. When he gets interested in something, he dives deep. He calls his parents every week, he's never even been to a party that got too loud. The idea that he'd hurt anyone is just... it's not who he is."

Judge Hernandez looked through more papers, then at Marcus. "Mr. Chen, I'd like you to explain to me, in your own words, what you were researching and why."

Marcus stood up slowly. "Your Honor, I was creating a fantasy world for a role-playing game. I wanted it to be as realistic as possible, so I researched everything. How medieval societies worked, what they ate, how they made things. My main character was supposed to be an inventor fighting against a dark wizard, so I researched historical explosives and early chemistry."

He paused, then continued. "I know how it looks, and I understand why it scared people. I didn't think about how my search history would appear to others. I was just so focused on making my fictional world believable that I didn't consider the real-world implications of my research."

"Do you understand how your actions could be interpreted, especially in today's security climate?" Judge Hernandez asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. Completely. I was naive about how this would look to others. I should have been more careful about how I conducted my research and where I did it."

Judge Hernandez was quiet for a long moment, reviewing her notes. Finally, she looked up.

"Mr. Chen, I've reviewed all the evidence and listened to the testimony. While your research methods showed poor judgment, I find no evidence of intent to harm others or to create actual explosive devices. The materials found clearly support the claim that this was research for a fictional project."

Marcus felt his knees go weak with relief.

"However," the judge continued, "this case serves as an important reminder that in our current security environment, certain types of research. Even for benign purposes. Can reasonably be interpreted as threatening. You're an intelligent young man, Mr. Chen, and you need to understand that your actions have consequences beyond your personal intentions."

She paused, then rendered her decision. "Given your clean record, the testimony of your peers, and the evidence that this was indeed research for a fictional project, I'm releasing you with a formal warning. However, any similar behavior in the future will not be treated so leniently. The court also recommends that you work with your university to establish proper protocols for conducting sensitive research, even for creative projects."

Marcus felt tears of relief in his eyes. His parents rushed forward, his mother crying and hugging him tight while his father gripped his shoulder.

But as they were leaving the courthouse, a middle-aged man in a cheap suit with a serious expression approached them.

"Mr. Chen? I'm Dean Morrison from Student Affairs at UIC. I need to speak with you and your parents."

Marcus's heart sank. He'd been so focused on the criminal charges that he'd almost forgotten about the university consequences.

"Given the circumstances and the negative attention this incident has brought to the university," Dean Morrison continued, "we're offering you a choice. You can voluntarily withdraw from the university, or we will proceed with formal disciplinary hearings that will likely result in expulsion."

Marcus's parents started to protest, but Marcus held up his hand. After everything he'd been through. The arrest, the trial, the weight of responsibility he carried in Valdris. This almost felt like relief.

"I'll withdraw," he said quietly.

"Marcus, no!" his mother cried.

"It's okay, Mom. Maybe college isn't for me right now. I need to figure some things out."

His father looked at him with concern and disappointment. "Son, are you sure? We can fight this. We can appeal."

"I'm sure, Dad. This is the right choice."

As they walked out of the building, Marcus felt the weight of two worlds on his shoulders. In one world, he was a college dropout who'd thrown away his future over what everyone thought was a game. In the other, he might have just helped save a kingdom.

He still didn't know which was worse. Or which was more real.