Their new boarding room feels like a grave. The air stuffy and heavy air, filled with musty odor from the humid wall and the remnants of student food. The dim afternoon sun rays break through the dirty window, illuminating the dust that circles in the air. The silence between them is real, only occasionally the sound of a car horn or laughter from the lower floor.
Anton cleaned the blood from his hand with a wet cloth. Riani sat cross legged on the floor, staring blankly at the wall, her body still trembled after shooting Doc. Bimo stood near the window, his eyes were fixed on the city horizon, but his mind was in a very, very far place.
He can still feel it. The presence of the ruler. It is no longer an active vortex of darkness, but more like a very large and very old eye that is now open and staring directly at him. A cold attention, full of curiosity, and hungry.
"Is he still ... there?" Riani asked, her voice was hoarse, as if reading Bimo's mind.
Bimo nodded, did not turn around. "He is watching. Like a child who sees ants, deciding whether to step on it or not."
"So what do we do? We just wait for him to attack?" Anton asked, his voice was full of despair.
"We are waiting for Mr. Daru," Bimo answered, his voice was flat. "We need knowledge. We need a plan."
That night passed slowly and full of anxiety. No one can sleep. Each sound from outside makes them jump. Bimo constantly scanning the city energy, looking for signs of a channel attack from the syndicate or, which is worse, than the ruler himself. But all he feels is emptiness. The syndicate seemed to fall apart without doc. Kesha has disappeared without a trace. That actually made him more vigilant.
The next morning, Bimo's cellphone vibrated. A message from Dr. Maya: "The patient is aware. Want to talk. Be careful."
They immediately departed. This time, they were more careful, wearing hats and glasses to disguise their faces. They entered the puskesmas through the back door, guided by Dr. Maya is anxious.
Pak Daru lay in a narrow hospital bed. He looked very old and fragile, his face was pale and filled with bruises. But his eyes, although tired, sharp and full of consciousness. An oxygen hose is attached to his nose.
"The three of you," he said, his voice was weak like hiss. "Tell me. Everything."
They took turns telling everything that happened: their wiretapping of DOC, battles in the laboratory, activation of spider webs, machine destruction, and doc's death in Riani's hands.
Pak Daru listened carefully, without interruption. When Riani reached the part she shot Doc, her old eyes closed, and she sighed sadly.
"You do what you have to do, my child," he finally, opened his eyes and looked at Riani. "He chose his own way. And he will kill us all without hesitation."
Then, he looked at Bimo. "And you ... you feel it now, right? His attention."
"Yes," Bimo answered. "Like a shadow hanging above my head. He wants me."
"Of course," said Mr. Daru. "With his anchors destroyed, he needs a new container. Something strong enough to accommodate his essence. You are a perfect target. More than perfect. If he can conquer and have a reincarnation of the god ... his strength will be unlimited."
"So what should we do?" Bimo asked. "We can't just wait."
"We have to attack first," Mr. Daru answered in a trembling voice. "We have to find a way to reach his world, or at least, reach a place where he is closest to our world."
"The door," Bimo murmured. "As we found at Monas."
"Right," said Mr. Daru. "But the door at Monas has been closed and sealed by the guard. We need another door. Or ... we need a way to open the door again."
"The crystals," Bimo said, removing the crystal that had been purified from his pocket. It's still throbbing with warm light.
"That is one key," said Mr. Daru. "But it might not be enough. Opening the door completely, enough to be passed, requires a very large power. The power that may only be owned by the ruler himself ... or by you, Bimo, if you can fully arouse Agni's memory and power."
"How to?" Bimo asked. He felt frustrated. Its strength has developed, but it still feels like playing with the surface.
"You have to accept it," said Mr. Daru. "Fully. You still treat your strength as something separated from you, as a tool. That is part of you. The soul of fire is not something that * Bimo has.
Bimo was silent, pondering those words.
"There is a place," continued Mr. Daru after coughing. "A place where the energy of this world is thin. A place where the ancestors are said to communicate with another world. Mount Salak. At its peak, there is an ancient flat stone. That might function as an amplifier. There, you can try to align yourself."
"Mount Salak?" Anton repeated, sounded in disbelief. "That's far. And the place is haunted. Many people missing stories there."
"Right because of that," answered Mr. Daru. "Darkness is attracted to places like that. But so is the light. That is a double-edged sword."
The plan is formed. They will bring Pak Daru from the Puskesmas too risky to stay longer. Dr. Maya, with extraordinary courage, agreed to help. He gave them a medical supply: painkillers, antibiotics, bandages. He even gave them a fake reference to a clinic in Bogor as a cover if someone asked.
Research with Mr. Daru who is still weak to Anton's car. The trip to Mount Salak takes several hours. Anton drove, while Bimo in the passenger seat continued to monitor the energy around them. Riani took care of Mr. Daru in the back seat.
When they approach the foot of the mountain, the atmosphere changes. The air becomes cooler and more quiet. The trees become thicker and darker. In Bimo's vision, the area is filled with shadows and silhouettes that move among the trees of natural spirits, ghosts that are lost, and something darker, more ferocious that lurks in the depths.
Research parking the car in a quiet place and continues the journey on foot. Anton supports Pak Daru, while Bimo leads and Riani keeps the back. Bimo uses a small flame in his hand as a torch, not only to illuminate the road but also to drive away invisible creatures that are too curious.
After climbing for hours, they finally arrived at the top. As Mr. Daru said, there was a large flat stone plain, like an ancient altar. The air here is thin and vibrates with strange energy. The sounds of other worlds sound like a whisper in the wind.
Lay Pak Daru on the stone. The old man looks exhausted but alert.
"Now, Bimo," he hissed. "Sit. And diving. Don't fight. Let it flow."
Bimo sat cross -legged in the middle of the flat stone. He closed his eyes, put the throbbing crystal on his lap. He took a deep breath and released all his defense. He stopped trying to control the fire. He just ... let him exist.
He drowned.
He is not at the top of the mountain anymore. He stood in a large plateau that burned. The sky is red and orange, interspersed with black gray. In front of him, stood a figure made of pure fire. That is Agni. But this time, his face was no longer without characteristics. It has Bimo's face, but with eyes containing centuries.
Finally, Agni's voice echoed in her head, but now it feels like her own voice. You come.
"I don't know how," Bimo said (or is that Agni?).
*You don't need to know. You just need to be*. Remember.*
A wave of memory that does not belong to his mind. He saw the birth of the stars. He saw an epic battle against the power of primordial darkness. He sees himself, life after life, as a human with divine sparks, struggles against evil in all its forms. He saw how he, as Agni, deliberately broke his essence and established it into the human soul to hide it from his enemies, waiting for the right time to rise again.
He understands everything. The goal. Sacrifice. Strength.
He opened his eyes.
He was still sitting on a flat stone at the top of Mount Salak. But everything looks different. He can see every flow of energy in the air, every spirit in the forest, every thread of destiny connected to the city below. It no longer burdensome; It feels natural, like extending its own senses.
The fire lights up around him, but does not burn the stone or his clothes. That is a part of him, like the second skin. The color is pure white, with a blue depth in the point that previously did not exist.
He stood up. Anton and Riani looked at him in amazement and a little scared. Even Mr. Daru was impressed.
"Bimo?" Call Riani, hesitant.
"Yes," Bimo answered, and his voice sounded the same, but there was a resonance in it, a deep force that made the air tremble. "But also ... more than that."
He reached out his hand, not to call the fire, but to touch the red line that connects himself and Riani, a thread of trust and friendship that shines brightly. He touched it, and a burst of warm and pleasant energy flowed through the thread, making Riani gasp because of feelings of happiness and sudden strength.
Then, he felt it. The ruler. His lurking attention suddenly became a sharp and desire focus. He could feel his great desire, his hunger was not satisfied.
And he can also feel something else. A weakness. A gap.
"There is a way," Bimo said, his eyes sparkled with ancient knowledge. "He cannot cross fully because the world still has his own protection - Jaring destiny, human free will. But he can stick out ... an extension. A tentacle of his essence. That's what he always tries to do with anchors."
"Then how do we fight it?" asked Mr. Daru.
"We don't fight it here," Bimo answered. "We forced him to stretch the tentacles. We fish. And when he does it, we grip it, and we use it to withdraw us into his world."
"That's crazy!" Anton's protest. "It's like letting a shark bite you so you can pull it to the boat!"
"Right," Bimo said with a faint smile that was not like him. "But you forgot. I'm no longer a small fish in the sea. I am a killer whale."
The crazy plan began to form. They need a place with neutral energy, far from people, where battles will not hurt anyone. They need bait. And they need a way to open the door for a long time to withdraw them through the ruler's tentacles.
Run down from the mountain in the same way as they go up, but now with a new sense of destination. Bimo no longer scan anxiously; He leads with calm confidence.
Meak did not return to Jakarta. It's too risky. Instead, they went to a quiet small villa in the peak area owned by the Anton family. The place is far from the crowd and has a large open field behind the perfect battlefield.
For the next two days, they prepared themselves. Bimo practiced controlling his new strength, learning to not only manipulate fire but also manipulated the red line itself, although carefully. Riani restored her strength, practicing creating larger and more complicated illusions. Anton collects inventory: food, generator, and all kinds of strange equipment requested by Mr. Daru from a particular list of metals, quartz crystals, and even rooster blood.
Pak Daru, although still weak, directed everything from his bed on the veranda. He taught them ancient rituals, patterns that must be drawn on the ground, spells that must be absorbed.
"We will create a cage," he explained to Bimo. "A spiritual trap. You will stand in the middle. You will lower your shield. You will emit your essence like a flare. It will force him to react. He will not be able to refuse."
"And when the tentacles appear?" Bimo asked.
"You have to grip him. It will feel like gripping lightning or trying to hold lava. It will hurt. But you have to hold it. Then, with your strength and crystal strength, you have to open the door in the air, right around the tentacles, and pull us all through it."
"Sounds easy," joked Bimo, but his eyes were serious.
The night of the implementation arrived. The full moon shines brightly in the sky, illuminating the grass field behind the villa. They have drawn grass patterns with chalk and holy salt a concentric circle with strange symbols. Bimo stood in the middle. Crystals that have been purified hanging on his neck, throbbing in tune with his heartbeat.
Riani and Anton stood on the edge of the circle, ready with their equipment. Pak Daru sat in a wheelchair on the veranda, watching anxiously.
"Ready?" Pak Daru shouted, his voice was weak but clear in the silence of the night.
Bimo nodded. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and began to lower all his defense. He let his internal aura of the Divine fire which is his soul shining brightly.
For ordinary people, nothing is seen. But for anyone who has spiritual vision, it is like lighting a giant lighthouse in the middle of the dark. Bimo shines with a dazzling light, a pure bright spot in the universe.The air above it starts to vibrate. The bright sky suddenly became dark, not by clouds, but by something that absorbs light. A black dot forms right above the head of Bimo, like a hole in a reality cloth.