The Prodigan Woman Ch 8: A Five Years Sentence! (Patreon)

Molly's eyes slowly fluttered open, greeted by the sight of a cracked roof. Rising from her bed, she confronted the cold reality of steel bars encasing her in a cell.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she rubbed her temples, grappling with the memories that lingered in the recesses of her mind.

"Today's the day," she murmured to herself, reflecting on the fateful day that marked her entrance into this prison. The weight of past actions pressed on her as she braced for whatever awaited her beyond those unforgiving bars.

***

Molly, hands cuffed and donned in an orange jumpsuit, sat in the back of a Prodigan Police vehicle, an unwelcome passenger on her journey to the inevitable. Two days in a detention cell had led her to this moment — her trial day.

In the wake of her downfall, all her micro cities confiscated and the people she once deemed her subjects set free, Molly couldn't shake the bitterness that clung to her thoughts.

"Ski..." she growled, the name tasting bitter on her tongue. Yet, a twisted satisfaction filled her as she envisioned the obliteration she had unleashed upon Ski and Luminastra.

The vehicle came to a halt, disrupting Molly's dark reverie. Peering out of the window, she confronted the looming structure that would determine her destiny — the court where she would be judged.

The Court of Royinn stood as a symbol of authority, ready to pass judgment on Molly's actions. As she stepped out of the vehicle, the weight of consequences bore down on her shoulders, an unwelcome reminder of the former goddess now reduced to facing the justice she had long evaded.

"I wonder if my fate is sealed already," she mused.

A Prodigan officer grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her out of the car.

"Come on, don't make me wait," he growled. "It's time for you to receive your sentence."

"Oh, joy," Molly sneered, her face scrunched in an unpleasant grimace.

Molly had no desire to face the judgment awaiting her and yet she had no intention of appearing weak before her enemies.

As she walked through the massive entrance doors of the court, her eyes took in the grandeur and scale of the building. Her gaze wandered, drawn by the architecture, until she found herself facing a statue of a young woman.

Molly's heart skipped a beat as she stared at the statue. The figure's face and body were identical to the one she had seen in many textbooks. The woman who held the name Royinn, the Prodigan Goddess of Justice and truth.

Molly stood, mesmerized, studying the details of the sculpture. Her mind drifted, lost in a world of memories.

The sound of the doors slamming shut, echoing through the building, snapped Molly out of her daze. The officers escorting her pulled her along, their destination the courtroom.

The heavy doors opened, allowing Molly's entrance. She stepped inside, her eyes taking in the scene. The room was crowded with Prodigan citizens and a handful of reporters, all there to witness her sentencing.

Molly could feel the pressure bearing down on her as she sat in the defendant's chair. She felt the intensity of their stares and the anticipation that hung in the air.

The trial began.

As the presiding officer spoke, Molly's gaze shifted, focusing on the audience, her attention drawn by a young man sitting close to the front. She didn't recognize him, but the way he looked at her made her feel uneasy.

His eyes were sharp and piercing. His gaze held a certain intensity, as if he was searching for something.

As their eyes met, his gaze became intense, and Molly couldn't help but feel that he was somehow familiar.

"Shall we begin." The judge said as he sat down.

Molly, her attention fixed on the man, listened to the judge.

"Molly, you are hereby charged with the following crimes," the judge began. "One, the crime of keeping Brobdingnagian, Gulliverian, Lilliputian, and even one Microputian civilization in your house. Two, First and second degree murder of whole entire civilizations. And finally, three, the crime of having a god complex and wanting to be treated as a goddess by other people. Do you plead guilty or not guilty to these charges?"

Molly remained silent, not daring to say a word.

"Silence?" the judge said. "If you have nothing to say, then the court will pass judgment."

The judge cleared his throat and raised his voice, his tone carrying the weight of his words.

"Molly, in accordance with Prodigan law, I hereby declare you guilty."

"What!" Molly exclaimed.

"You are hereby sentenced to 5 years in Prison. Take her away!" the judge declared.

The officers approached Molly.

"No! No!" Molly screamed, struggling against the officers. "How could you do this to me?!" She yelled out. "You would punish me for some insignificant specks!"

She kicked and thrashed, trying to break free from the restraints.

"Specks?" The man asked standing up from his seat, tears in his eyes.

Molly stopped, her eyes locking with the man.

"Specks." He repeated.

Molly glared at the man, her eyes burning with rage.

"That's what they were to you?" The man asked. "You're a monster!"

"And what would you know?!" Molly roared, her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched.

The man shook his head.

"What would I know?" he muttered. "You slaughters my Brobdingnagian Wife!" he yelled.

The words stung like a knife, piercing Molly's heart.

"My Wife and countless others." The man said. "You deserve death! You deserve worse than death! You don't even deserve to be here, you deserve to be forgotten!" The man yelled.

"Order! Order in the court!" the judge declared, banging his gavel.

The man ignored the judge, his gaze fixed on Molly.

"You will suffer," he vowed, his voice tinged with anguish and hatred.

***

The clanging sound of her cell door reverberated, and Molly snapped back to the present. Two officers stood there, one holding handcuffs.

"Today's the day, Ms. Adams," one of them declared.

"Yes, I know," Molly replied, extending her hands. She watched as the officer secured the handcuffs around her wrists.

"Today's the day," Molly contemplated internally. "The day I might be able to get out of jail." As she was escorted out of her cell, a flicker of hope danced within her thoughts, tempered by the uncertainty of what awaited her in the austere halls of justice.