"Seven! Do not take another step!"
The voice thundered through the comms, but my ears no longer belonged to me. The world around me shifted colors; the pristine white mist turned into a visceral, suffocating crimson. I could smell it—a thick scent of blood emanating from the very crater of Mahameru, mingled with the foul stench of rotting incense.
"Mbah... Mbah, I... I can't breathe..." I gasped, clutching my head with both hands. Behind my eyelids, I saw flashes of a white room—cold, clinical, and echoing with the sound of a heartbeat being crushed.
"Do not look back, Seven! Stay focused!" Mbah Gembong yelled, his palm striking my back with a force that sent a jolt of energy through my spine. It felt as if a cold shock had reset my brain. "Trust your instincts! Focus on your napas (breath)! Don't let them in!"
BZZZT—!
My vision fragmented like a broken screen. I was no longer on the slopes of Semeru. I was standing in a white room—clean, sterile, and filled with the hum of buzzing machines. Saptapala's clandestine lab. There were no trees, no mist, no moss. Only cold metal.
Before me, a man with silver hair stood with his back to me. His stature was imposing—Commander Arka. In front of him, seven glass tubes were arranged in a row. Inside one of them... I saw myself. Or rather, my body.
My first body was riddled with surgical scars, wired into a machine that pumped black fluid into my bone marrow. I wasn't unconscious; my eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling with a hollow, dead gaze.
"Subject 07 is responding to the stimulus, Commander. The Dirga DNA isn't just merging; it's colonizing his entire nervous system," a technician whispered.
"Good. Keep the dosage at maximum. We don't need a brother; we need a vessel. He must wake up as a weapon. His humanity is a defect we can no longer afford."
BAM!
The vision shattered. I was back on the mountainside. Mbah Gembong stood before me, his face grim. "Wake up! Saptapala's ghosts are trying to drag you back to their cage!"
"Seven, engage!" A voice commanded from behind the trees.
Movement—fast and lethal. From the shadows emerged three figures in Saptapala tactical gear. Strike Team 01. They moved with a fluidity that was almost unnatural, their pulses hidden by energy-dampening suits.
"Subject 07 has reached a critical stage of illegal synchronization. Termination authorized," one of them spoke—a flat, mechanical voice. It was Kaka, my former training partner. The person who used to challenge me in the simulators was now pointing a rail-rifle at my head.
I stood up slowly, the blood on my hands beginning to dry. The heat in my wrist was no longer pain; it was a hungry roar.
"Re-calibration?" I muttered, the word sounding like a curse. I could see the energy lines now. The world looked sharp, golden, and terrifying. "Is that what you call it, Arka? Erasing the brother to make a slave?"
"Seven, do not listen to the hermit's delusions," Arka's voice crackled through the comms. "You are unstable. Return for re-calibration, or we will end you where you stand."
"Go ahead," I growled. My voice was no longer my own; it was deeper, layered with the snarl of a predator. "See if Saptapala's steel can stop what's waking up inside me."
The rail-rifle fired. THWIP!
I didn't move my feet; I shifted my weight. The bullet grazed my tactical vest, but I was already in a low Harimau stance. My hand slammed into the earth, and a shockwave of reddish-orange energy erupted, cracking the ground.
I surged forward. Kaka tried to reload, but I was faster. I struck his chest with an open-palm hit—the Harimau strike. The force didn't just push him; it shattered the composite plates of his armor like glass.
"For Dirga," I whispered as he was hurled into the darkness of the ravine.
The other two operatives fired simultaneously. I felt a sharp sting in my shoulder as a bullet pierced through, but I didn't stop. The golden glow in my eyes intensified. I was a vessel now. An active, vengeful vessel.
"Mbah, I... I can't stop it," I choked out, as the Rajah on my hand began to glow so brightly it charred the air around me.
Mbah Gembong looked toward the summit. "Then don't stop. Let the mountain decide."
From the crater above, a massive silhouette made of black smoke and ash began to descend. The Harbinger. The Wiyangga that guarded the peak had sensed the breach.
"Subject 07 has reached the summit zone. Initiate Protocol: Dead Resonance," Arka's voice echoed one last time before the comms went dead.
I looked at the black smoke descending upon us, then at the glowing Rajah on my arm. My humanity was officially over. The hunt for the truth had just begun.
ANTARALA GLOSSARY [Chapter 5]
Strike Team 01: Saptapala's elite hunters. They are Satria's former comrades, modified for maximum efficiency and zero empathy.
Gas Kaliwendo: A volcanic gas anomaly distorted by Wiyangga energy. It induces vivid hallucinations based on the victim's deepest traumas.
The Harbinger (Wiyangga Tipe-S): A high-level entity formed from accumulated negative energy. It acts as the "Guardian" of the crater, preventing anyone from reaching the Pillars.
Dead Resonance: A Saptapala protocol to remotely self-destruct or forcibly shut down a Vessel's nervous system if they go rogue.