The courtroom was packed.
Media outlets from home and abroad filled the gallery. Students sat cross-legged outside the building since dawn. Public figures dotted the back row—including a retired supreme court judge and a veteran human rights activist.
The chief judge entered. Three knocks of the gavel.
"The trial of Ratna Ayuningtyas is now in session."
Ratna stood at the defendant's bench, wearing a white headscarf. Her hands were still cuffed—but her face was calm. Beside her sat Ari—his eyes no longer bright from exhaustion, yet still sharp.
The prosecutor stepped forward.
"Your Honors, we intend to prove that the defendant committed fraud through a fabricated social aid—"
Ari rose before the sentence was finished.
"Your Honors, I object. We present video evidence and authenticated data logs from the night of the arrest, showing that my client was framed and that key evidence was manipulated."
The judge nodded. "You may proceed."
The courtroom screen lit up. The video began.
Silence.
The footage showed Ratna being dragged without a warrant, her laptop seized unlawfully, and crucial 'evidence' being planted once her device was in custody.
All files were timestamped and digitally verified.
A tear rolled down the cheek of a reporter in the front row.
When the video ended, silence remained.
Then—applause erupted outside.Followed by a tidal wave online.The trial's live broadcast had drawn millions.
Ratna lowered her head.Ari touched her arm. "There's still another chapter," he whispered.
The judge knocked the gavel again.
"In light of irrefutable evidence, this court declares a dismissal of all criminal charges against the defendant Ratna Ayuningtyas and orders an immediate ethics investigation into the investigators and prosecutors involved."
The courtroom exploded.
Ratna cried quietly.
And Ari… smiled, for the first time in a long time.
After the final gavel strike, the courtroom felt like a silent celebration.
Ratna, her eyes still glassy, turned to the panel of judges.
"May I speak?" she asked.
The judge nodded.
Ratna stood. She took a deep breath.
"My name is Ratna. And yes—I'm poor. But I never asked for pity.I never asked for cameras or hashtags.All I wanted… was for the law to work as it should."
She looked directly at the prosecutor.He lowered his head, unable to meet her gaze.
"I don't know who ordered all this. But I do know—if one man hadn't believed I wasn't a criminal,I'd have been erased long ago," she continued, now looking at Ari.
"If they silence even him…then who else will speak for people like us?"
The room fell into stillness again.
Outside the courthouse, dozens of reporters surrounded Ari and Sekar.
"Mr. Ari, will you press charges against the prosecution?"
"Are you forming a political party?"
"Is it true there was foreign intelligence involved?"
Ari answered plainly, "I'm not a politician. I just want the law to return to where it belongs."
But from afar, someone was watching.
An older man in a gray suit, with a national emblem pin on his lapel. He spoke into a phone while keeping his eyes on Ari.
"If we can't crush him…recruit him."
That night, Ari received a strange invitation:
"Private meeting. Exclusive location.To discuss the future of national justice.For your eyes only.Strictly confidential."
Sekar read it. "Are you going?"
Ari paused. Then answered,
"If revolutions begin in basements…sometimes we have to step into marble halls—just to see who really sits above the law."