Raka sat silently in the middle of the vast grassland, confused and frozen in place.
A gentle breeze passed through the field, carrying the unfamiliar scent of wet soil mixed with the fragrance of wildflowers he had never smelled before. The sky above him was an unusual shade of light purple, filled with peace and silence. Two moons hung high overhead, one bright silver and the other dark copper as if watching over the world below.
Their light slowly spread across the land, creating long, mysterious shadows over the endless grassland.
Raka lowered his head and touched the grass around him. The ground felt soft and slightly warmer than the earth he knew. It was not like the soil in Jakarta.
This land felt alive.
There was a faint vibration beneath his fingertips. It was almost impossible to notice, yet Raka could clearly sense that something here was different.
"Where am I?" he muttered, his voice low and trembling.
He checked the notebook still clutched in his hand. The paper was wrinkled, and its edges were slightly torn, but his grandfather's handwriting remained clear.
The words echoed in his mind once again, even though he had never truly believed their meaning before.
"Beneath the shadow of the Buddha statue, the door between worlds will open when the ancestral heritage is summoned by a pure heart..."
Raka gripped the paper more tightly.
When he was young, his grandfather often spoke about strange things other worlds, ancient powers hidden inside temples, and heirlooms that could speak to those capable of listening.
Back then, Raka had only laughed and treated those stories as nothing more than fairy tales. But now, he was standing in a place he could not explain.
A place he had never imagined. Suddenly, he heard rustling from behind a nearby bush. Raka straightened his body and turned around. Several figures emerged from the bushes, making his blood run cold.
Four small creatures with grayish-green skin and glowing red eyes slowly approached him. Their ears were pointed, and their claws were long and sharp. They hissed softly while exchanging glances filled with hostile intent.
"Goblins..." Raka whispered.
His body went stiff.
This was the first time he had ever encountered creatures like them. His grandfather had once told him stories about goblins, but Raka had never imagined that he would meet one in person.
His heart began to pound.
One of the goblins suddenly leaped toward him with incredible speed.
Raka barely managed to dodge through instinct alone. However, he was not fast enough to avoid the sharp claws flying toward him. Just before the claws reached his skin, a golden light suddenly burst from the notebook in his hand.
A powerful vortex of wind formed around him, lifting his body into the air. The goblins stumbled backward in shock. The light was so intense that it seemed to burn everything nearby. Slowly, a figure began to take shape within the golden glow.
It resembled a man wearing a batik-patterned robe. His expression was calm and peaceful, yet there was an undeniable sense of power surrounding him.
"Remain calm, heir," the man's voice echoed, deep and authoritative. "You are not yet ready to face them. But the time will come, and you will be guided by the heritage that has long been buried."
Raka stared at him, his mouth slightly open.
"Who are you?" he asked.
His voice sounded weak and confused.
The man only gave a faint smile.
"I am not someone you know. But your task is what matters. This world is calling you, Muhammad Raka. You are not here by coincidence."
The man's eyes briefly shifted toward the notebook.
"The ancestral heirloom has called you back."
With those final words, the figure slowly disappeared, as if swallowed by the wind and golden light. Raka fell heavily to the ground.
"Ugh!"
He gasped for breath and stared at the notebook in his hand. His vision blurred as he tried to process what had just happened.
"Another world... I'm... no longer at Borobudur," he muttered.
After struggling to stand, he looked around. The vast grassland stretched endlessly before him. In the distance, he saw a large city surrounded by stone walls. Tall towers rose above it, their sharp roofs resembling buffalo horns. A purple light shone from the center of the city, like a beacon calling out to him.
Raka began walking slowly.
He felt as though something was calling him a hidden force pulling him toward the distant city.
But as he walked farther, another memory suddenly surfaced.
His grandfather.
Raka remembered being taken to Prambanan Temple when he was still a child. They had sat beneath the shadow of a statue of Shiva while his grandfather spoke with complete certainty.
"Every stone here has a story, Raka. And every story is alive, waiting to be heard."
Raka smiled faintly as he recalled those words.
Back then, he had thought they were merely old tales embellished by his grandfather's imagination.
But now, everything felt different. His steps stopped when he heard another set of footsteps. More creatures emerged from behind the bushes.
These beings were much larger than the goblins.
Their faces looked almost human, but something about them was still unusual. Their skin was pale blue, and their ears were long, almost resembling the elves from folklore.
They wore intricately designed robes decorated with patterns that reminded Raka of Balinese songket.
They spoke in a language he could not understand. Yet somehow, their voices seemed to touch his mind.
One of them suddenly turned toward Raka.
Their eyes glowed softly.
Then, a voice echoed inside his head.
"His blood has awakened."
Raka froze.
"The heir of Nusantara has arrived."
He could not move. He could only stare at them in confusion.
What were they talking about?
Who did they mean by "heir"?
And what connection did any of this have to him?
Before he could gather his thoughts, the creatures began moving toward him.
Raka's heart pounded.
He knew he had to act quickly, but at the same time, a strange sense of calm surrounded him.
Something inside him seemed to say that this was a destiny he had to face.
This world...
Perhaps it had been waiting for him for a very long time.