Crowned by Code - Chapter 2: A Prisoner's Past ~ (4/8) A Prisoner’s Guilt

The trial that followed was a spectacle, with the media branding him a cyber-terrorist and the courts showing no leniency. Every detail of the Crypt’s operation was dissected and weaponized against him. In Athenon’s corporate towers, the Crypt heist was seen as a reckless assault on stability. Business leaders decried it as an attack on Erevania’s economic foundation, a breach that could have shattered investor confidence in AI-driven governance. Meanwhile, in Cyrene’s underground networks, the same heist was hailed as an act of defiance—a strike against the system that had ignored them for too long.

But prosecutors painted him as a cold-hearted criminal, and victims of the redistribution—ordinary citizens caught in the crossfire—gave tearful testimonies. One such victim was an elderly man who had lost his entire pension, his voice trembling as he described the devastation wrought by the Crypt’s actions.

“You claimed to fight for justice,” the man had said, his words cutting through Darius like a knife. “But justice doesn’t come at the expense of innocent lives.”

For Darius, the most harrowing moment was Lena’s testimony. She had been a single mother who’d saved for years to open a bakery, only to have her account drained during the Crypt’s redistribution efforts. Her tearful recounting of her shattered dreams left the courtroom silent, her pain a stark reminder of the unintended consequences of his actions.

“You said you were helping people like me,” she’d cried. “But all you did was take away what little we had left.”

He had no rebuttal then, and he had none now. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his failure to live up to his ideals.

Lena’s tearful testimony became the cornerstone of his guilt, but it was far from the only burden he carried. Darius often replayed the trial in his mind, dissecting every moment and wondering if he could have said or done something to make amends. But the damage had been done. His name had become synonymous with betrayal in the eyes of the public, a symbol of reckless rebellion rather than the change he had envisioned.

He spent endless nights in his cell, consumed by questions. Could he have approached things differently? Could he have wielded his skills in a way that didn’t leave so much destruction in its wake? The answers eluded him, and the silence of his confinement offered no solace.

The walls of his cell became a gallery of memories, each one sharper than the last. There were moments of triumph, of camaraderie with the Crypt, but they were overshadowed by the faces of those he had hurt. Darius often imagined conversations with them, futile attempts at apology that always ended with the same haunting silence. It was this mental torment that hardened his resolve: if he ever had the chance to make things right, he would seize it, no matter the cost.

Athena’s selection of him as Erevania’s leader brought a new layer to his introspection. Why had she chosen him? Was it because of his guilt, his willingness to face his own failures? Or did she see something in him that he could no longer see in himself? These questions lingered, fueling a cautious hope that perhaps redemption was not beyond reach.