The courtroom is a vast circular cylinder stretching upward like a finger pointing at the sky. Marble slabs have been cut to form a circular platform at the center, raised about a meter above the rest of the room, which remains empty and dark. Against the walls, there are stands—hundreds and hundreds of seats occupied by faces of every ethnicity, color, and age, all watching Felix with disdain. White pillars rise all around, and on each one, a seat is occupied by a man or woman dressed in electric-blue robes.

At the very center, on the largest and most imposing pillar, sits an old man with a terrifying presence. Engraved in large, copper-colored letters on the back of his chair, just above his half-bald head, is the Latin word IVSTITIA—justice.

Memories flood Felix’s mind like flashes, nervous impulses flickering behind his eyelids. He remembers the voices, the screams, the insults, the feeling of standing on the brink of death and not being able to care. He remembers that at some point, someone had started crying—a woman. She had been taken away almost immediately by a few guards, and from that moment on, the people in the stands had remained silent, lost in their own thoughts.

Felix recalls the heavy cuffs around his wrists, his knuckles raw with wounds and scabs, the irritating wheeze in his lungs that came with every breath, his swollen lips. He remembers a headache so intense that it kept him from fully understanding what was happening to him, and at the same time, a complete indifference to his own fate—as if life and death were one and the same.

He has only just stepped into that room, and already he feels weak, so weak that he doubts he can stay upright for much longer. He has just seen men hanging from a wall, their bodies rotting, and as if that weren’t enough, his mind is now fracturing under the weight of memories he didn’t even know he had.

“Calm down,” Hyunjin murmurs, barely audible.

Felix understands the reason for the warning only when he lowers his gaze and sees his own hands trembling violently.

Two guards step in front of them.

“Mr. Hwang, you must move to the stands,” they say.

“No way,” he replies, firm and unwavering.

“The platform is reserved only for those who are to be Judged.”

“Then let me be Judged,” he insists.

Felix understands nothing. That exchange of words could mean a thousand things, or nothing at all. He has stopped asking questions, stopped searching for answers. He only hopes that whatever is about to happen to him won’t hurt too much. Or, perhaps, that it will hurt so much it erases every other pain he’s feeling. No in-between.

It’s only then that Felix realizes Hyunjin’s father is no longer with them. When he notices his absence, he wonders how badly his mind must be functioning at that moment—how unreliable his perception must be. When did he leave? Why? Did he say something before he did?

Felix wonders if he’s dissociating from himself. If this is the first time, or if it’s been happening all along without him realizing—because in the cell, everything had felt so monotonous that it was impossible to notice. He wonders if that’s why his memory is so faulty. There are gaps in his perception. Chasms he cannot understand, but whose absence he can sense.

“Step up,” the guard orders, serious.

Hyunjin places a hand on Felix’s shoulder and gently pushes him toward the marble staircase. Felix tries to focus on simple things, so he counts the white steps. Eleven.

When they reach the platform, he notices how smooth and cold it is. He walks to the center of the room and, automatically, kneels on the ground. He doesn’t know why he did it, but he knows it’s what he’s supposed to do. His body remembers.

Hyunjin flinches but says nothing.

Felix doesn’t dare look up at the man seated on the highest pillar. He has the feeling that if he did, he would be struck down.

"Hwang Hyunjin," a deep, hoarse voice calls out. The judge.

In that vast courtroom, the voice reverberates terrifyingly, so deep it seems to tremble in the chest of those who hear it. Panic grips Felix, but he has no space to succumb to it. His ears, his entire perception, are razor-sharp.

"This is not your place. You are not on trial for any crime."

"Ivan died because of me," Hyunjin says immediately, his voice clear.

Murmurs of surprise rise instantly from the stands. The noise grows so loud that the judge has to raise his voice to command silence. Only then, when not even a whisper remains, does he respond.

"Boy, you are taking on a heavy burden. You realize that, don’t you?"

"Your Honor," Hyunjin says, "My absence destabilized the prisoner’s mind to such an extent that he became unbalanced. To blame him for Ivan’s death would be like blaming a child for playing with his father’s gun."

The judge clears his throat. "That is your argument."

"It is."

"But it remains just a theory. Your belief. Your conviction. It may not reflect reality."

"Your Honor, I—"

"The defendant is already serving a sentence for committing three murders," the judge declares.

Felix feels as if a blade has just been driven into his skull, prying it open with brute force.

Three murders?

What the fuck is he talking about?

He hasn’t killed anyone.
No one.

"The circumstances—"

"Do the circumstances, Hyunjin, make his crimes any less severe?"

"Your Honor, the prisoner has lived a miserable life since adolescence. His parents—"

"I know his story. I know more about him than the prisoner himself currently does."

The judge pauses, then continues, his tone grave.

"Before we begin his trial, I ask you to retract your previous statements and remove yourself from the Judgment, Hyunjin. Do not take on a guilt that is not yours. Do not burden yourself with a weight you cannot bear. Think of your mother, your father. Think of your life. Think of what you would be risking if you were to be found guilty—even in part—of what happened to Ivan Kozlov."

Hyunjin falls silent.

Felix blinks, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it echoes in his ears. He's not a genius, never has been. But even so, he starts to get an idea of what's going on and what Hyunjin's stance might mean. He's not a hero, he won't stand up shouting at Hyunjin to stop — and if he doesn't, it's only because he realizes it's the right thing. Hyunjin is guilty of Ivan's death, but not for leaving him in his hands, but for keeping him prisoner for months until he lost his mind and eventually handed him over to the hands of a psychotic mob.
"I want to be judged."
Again, whispers.
It's like sticking your head in a beehive every time. Those whispers sound like the incessant buzz of busy bees. Felix wants to press his hands against his ears, but the judge quiets them, calling them to order.
"Well then. Step aside, Hyunjin, at least for now."
Hyunjin hesitates for a moment, but eventually walks to the edge of the platform. He stands behind Felix.
"Prisoner 4317, stand up," the judge says.
Felix takes a split second too long to realize the judge is referring to him. With difficulty, he pushes himself up from the ground. He feels so tired he could collapse any second — it's mental exhaustion, more than physical. A weariness that eats away at him from the inside.
"Say your name."
Felix catches the air between his lips, letting it vibrate in his vocal cords. "My name is Felix."
"Your full name."
"Lee Felix Yongbok."
"Lee Felix Yongbok. Do you know why you're here today?"
Felix wants to laugh. He only exhales sarcastically but keeps his head bowed. "Apparently, because I'm charged with three murders."
"Apparently? Would you like to plead innocent before this court?"
Felix slowly shakes his head. "I wonder if this court knows I was drugged, beaten, molested, and abused for months. I wonder if this court knows I have no idea how many memories I have or how many are missing. How can I claim to be innocent or guilty?"

"Don't you remember killing?"
"I remember killing Ivan," Felix says. "He was trying to rape me, and I killed him."
Again, that buzz. Someone shouts something, but the insult is swallowed by the echo, devoured and turned into a growl that fades into the air.
"Do you only remember Ivan?"
Felix nods.
"Yes. I only remember Ivan."
"So, as far as you know, you didn't kill anyone else?"
"No, Your Honor."
The judge remains silent for several moments.
"So, you plead innocent."
Felix shrugs. "I plead innocent, Your Honor, yes. Will that change anything? Can I go home now?" he asks sarcastically, finally raising his face, unafraid of the consequences this might have. Pale, emaciated, thin as a reed, he looks at the man as if they are equals, as if he doesn't sit three meters higher, as if his job isn't to condemn him.
No one steps up to hit him. Felix is almost surprised. He continues staring the judge in the eye. His bushy eyebrows furrow. He doesn't believe a word Felix is saying, it's clear. Moreover, he feels no pity for him, nor for his condition. Felix imagines he won’t get out of this unscathed. He imagines that he really has no one on his side at the moment — except for Hyunjin.
"Bring in the first witness."
The platform shakes violently under Felix’s feet, making him flinch in fear. It begins to rotate slowly, stopping in front of a recess Felix hadn’t noticed until then, because it had been in the dark. Now the lights come on, blinding him for a moment.
A man. Felix tries to focus on this mysterious first witness, but his eyes take a while to adjust to the sudden and bright light. However, when they finally make out his features, everything takes on a different meaning. A bitter taste fills his mouth. Suddenly, for the first time, he almost thinks he truly deserves this. He almost thinks he deserves everything that’s happened to him up until now. It's as if the puzzle is complete — and maybe it isn't, but for him, it’s enough. He already understands.
"Have you ever seen this man, prisoner 4317?"

Felix feels his eyes well up with tears. His throat immediately tightens into a painful knot, and he can't even breathe, let alone speak. He needs a moment before he can respond.
"Yes," he says, faintly. It's a blessing the courtroom is built this way, because even if a pin dropped on the floor, it would be heard.
"Who is he? Tell us."
Felix clenches his eyes shut.
The drugs.
His father.
The car.
The sex.
Cassidy.
The accident.
The bicycle.
The boy.
"He’s Timothy’s father."
"And who is Timothy?" the judge insists.
Felix presses his hands onto his knees as he lowers his head toward the floor. It's too much. Too much. He can't handle this. Not now. Not after everything he's been through. Not after all the pain. He's not strong enough to face this too. He can't do it. He wishes he could die right now to end it all.
"Answer. Who is Timothy?"
Felix trembles like a leaf. He doesn't have the courage to look at the man in front of him. How could he?
"He’s the boy I killed."
"So, you remember. You remember that you didn’t just kill Ivan. A moment ago, you pleaded innocent to all charges, and now you admit to having killed at least one other person. How do you justify that?"
Bastard, Felix thinks. How could he possibly link all this horror to an accident from years ago? Maybe he should've figured it out anyway, Timothy. But the judge spoke of another person Felix is supposed to have killed. Even by scouring through the memories of his life, day by day, he can't find a memory related to this so-called third murder. He can't. He can't do it.
"Prisoner 4317, answer the question."
Felix rubs his wrist against his cheek.
"I've already been tried for Timothy Rodson’s case."
"What was the sentence, back then?"
"Guilty."
"So, the court found you guilty of murder, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And how did you pay for your crime?"
Felix squints his eyes.
"I didn’t."
"You didn’t pay for the murder of Timothy Rodson?"
"No."

The judge remains silent for a few moments. Then he clears his throat and says: "Prisoner 4317. Earlier, you claimed not to remember much of your life, to the point where you couldn't even say with certainty whether or not you had committed murders. You have no reason to lie, because we already know everything there is to know about you: therefore, I believe you. I believe you because what has happened to you is the result of a series of procedures aimed at breaking your psyche. This condition was imposed on you as a punitive process. Everything that has happened to you up until this moment has been part of that process. In collaboration with the Collectors, the goal of the Assembly is to make the world a better place, a world where God's judgment reaches where the law has failed. However, since your period of atonement has come to an end, also due to the escalation of events you initiated, the time has prematurely come for you to face your wrongs, so that you may not only suffer but also understand the consequence of your actions, the reason why you are here, and why you will be judged today. Therefore, I ask you to listen, for nothing I am about to say will be repeated. Answer 'yes' if you understand what I have just told you."

Felix is no longer inside himself. He is somewhere, outside his body. He watches himself as others watch him from the stands. He sees himself for what he is: a miserable skeleton bent by the suffering he himself has poured into the world. He wonders if the person he sees is deserving of what has happened to him. Then he thinks of the life of that poor child who died simply because he had decided to get high before driving the car he had just stolen from his father. He thinks of the trial where his lawyers managed to keep him out of prison with the help of social workers who had analyzed the dire conditions his parents were living in. He thinks of the ridiculous community service he had to do to repay society for the death of a child — picking up trash by the sidewalk for eight months. None of what happened had been fair. The child’s family had never received justice. Felix has no idea what it means to be a father, but he wonders: if a drug addict had taken his child’s life, wouldn't he want to see him rot in a cell? Succumb to the same drugs that had led to the death of an innocent? See him humiliated and broken? See him beaten, tortured, abused? Yet, it still wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough. But it would still be something.
"Yes," Felix murmurs.
And the judge begins to speak.

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