Chapter 2 – After the Dream, the Deal Begins | Part A

Kaivan slipped off his jacket and hooked it onto the chair near the door. His breath was heavy, his body weighed down by an unseen burden. Yet his eyes remained fixed on the book. After a moment of silence, he stepped closer, pulled out the chair, and sat before the desk. His thin fingers brushed against the leather cover, feeling its rough texture.

Carefully, he opened the first page. A chill swept across his face, as though the room itself exhaled. The light flickered for a moment, a subtle signal that something extraordinary was about to begin. The letters on the page glowed faintly, casting strange shadows across the room.

“What’s your purpose in bringing me this far?” Kaivan whispered, his voice hoarse. His eyes scanned the page, catching on every detail, every curve of the letters. “And what’s going to happen next?” His tone carried a storm of inner conflict—a mix of curiosity and fear of what might come.

The silence deepened. Only the soft sound of the night wind slipping through the cracks of the window filled the air. Then, slowly, the letters within the Tome Omnicent began to move:

“I’m helping you so that you won’t become apathetic. One of the steps—you must learn to know them.”

Kaivan froze. His face tensed, brows furrowed. “Them?” he muttered under his breath. “Radit… and Zinnia?” But no further answer came. The letters settled back into their original form, as if they had already said enough.

Leaning back in his chair, Kaivan stared at the stained ceiling above. His thoughts raced, unraveling the meaning behind the cryptic words. “Is this… a test?” he asked himself, though deep down, he knew the answer wouldn’t be so simple.

With a long exhale, he looked back down at the book. Summoning newfound courage, he turned to the next page. This time, the ink shifted like liquid, forming words that were far more specific:

“Seek out several old Nokia phones, models from 2008 or earlier.”

Kaivan blinked at the words, bewildered. “Old Nokias?” His voice carried a bitter chuckle. He stared at the page skeptically, yet some instinct told him these instructions held a deeper purpose. Pulling his jacket back on, he stepped out into the night.

His footsteps carried him to an antique market near Cikapundung, lit only by the dim glow of aging lamps. The narrow alleys brimmed with forgotten relics, each object a fragment of someone else’s past. Kaivan’s eyes scanned every stall, searching for the clue the book had whispered.

At last, in a secluded corner, he found a small table cluttered with outdated electronics. Scattered among them were the Nokias—scratched, worn, and far from pristine. Kaivan picked them up one by one, his fingers running across their faded plastic, feeling the coarseness of time.

After paying three hundred thousand rupiah, he carried six phones back home. He laid them out on his desk, right beside the Tome Omnicent. With the simple tools he had, he began dismantling the devices one after another, his eyes fixed on every detail.

As he opened the first phone, he glanced back at the Tome, following its guidance. Adding a touch of chemicals as instructed, he uncovered something entirely unexpected. Inside was a scattering of tiny golden grains, shimmering under the lamplight.

Kaivan’s breath caught. “This… this is incredible,” he murmured. Never in his wildest imagination would he have thought such ordinary objects could conceal something so precious.

---

Kaivan had a bigger idea brewing. He unlocked his phone, the faint glow of the screen casting pale light across his face. His old contact list appeared, each name carrying the weight of buried memories—Dandi, Rani, Tania—bitter echoes he had long tried to silence. Yet two names stood out: Radit and Zinnia. New names. Names that carried hope, the promise of a fresh beginning.

"...Kaivan? You’re calling out of the blue. What’s up?" Radit’s voice rang with energy, even as the distant murmur of a television buzzed in the background.

Kaivan let a faint smile touch his lips, knowing Radit couldn’t see it. "Radit, I’ve got a business idea. Something big. Something that could bring us a fortune. Interested?"

On the other end, Radit sprang up from his bed, tossing aside his lazy sprawl. Propping himself against the wall, a wide grin spread across his face. His worn denim jacket hung from the chair beside him, forgotten. "A business, huh? Sounds interesting. Alright then. When and where do we meet?"

Relief washed over Kaivan. After setting a time and place, he ended the call and dialed Zinnia. As the line rang, his pulse quickened. He knew Zinnia wasn’t the kind of person who let people in easily, but deep down, he was certain she would play a vital role in what was to come. The ringtone dragged on, until at last, a calm yet inquisitive voice answered.

“Kaivan? What is it?” Zinnia’s tone was steady, though laced with a subtle curiosity. In her modest room, she sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against her bed. The warm glow of her desk lamp softened the edges of the tidy space.

Kaivan cleared his throat, steadying the slight tremor in his voice. “I want to discuss a major business plan. It’s important. Would you be interested?”

Zinnia raised an eyebrow, biting the end of her pen before replying. “A major plan, you say? You’ve piqued my interest. Alright then, when do we meet?”

Evening settled over the city, painting the sky in hues of soft orange. A small café on the corner of the street glowed warmly under the hanging lights that came alive with dusk. Radit arrived first, his steps firm as the wooden door creaked open behind him.

He dropped into a chair with easy confidence, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Folding his arms across his chest, his eyes fixed on Kaivan, sharp with curiosity.

“So, what are you scheming this time?” His voice carried a teasing weight, lips tugged into a sly grin.

Kaivan didn’t answer immediately. A subtle smile played at his lips as he set aside the book he’d been reading on the table. Though his gaze was gentle, there was an unshakable conviction behind it.

“Wait just a moment,” he murmured, voice calm, almost like a soothing whisper. “I want everyone here before we begin.”

The door chime rang. Zinnia entered gracefully, her simple jeans highlighting her figure without drawing attention. Each step she took was measured, filled with quiet confidence. Her eyes landed on Kaivan, but quickly shifted to Radit. Her brow arched, her expression turning sharp.

“And who’s this thug?” she asked coolly, slipping into the seat beside Kaivan with composed poise. The way she set her hand on the table spoke volumes of her self-assurance.

Radit scoffed, a low chuckle brimming with mockery. “And who’s this rude woman?” he shot back casually, though his eyes betrayed his irritation. “Why do you look like you’re passing judgment on me?” His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the tabletop, baiting her reaction.

Kaivan sighed deeply, raising his left hand slowly—as if pressing down on the air itself to prevent it from shattering. “Both of you are part of this plan. I need you… so please, save this tension for later.”

His gaze swept over Radit and Zinnia—two fierce souls pulling in different directions, yet tethered at his side. Watching them clash, Kaivan felt something stir within him. Not anger. Not frustration. But a warmth that had lain buried for so long.

Zinnia turned her face toward the window, letting the fading light brush against her cheek. She breathed out softly, tucking strands of violet hair behind her ear. Across the table, Radit’s shoulders eased as he leaned back, his posture loosening, no longer braced for a fight. A fragile silence bloomed between them—not out of distance, but out of something new. An understanding.

And in that moment—in the quiet space between words and presence—Kaivan felt it. The chains that had bound his hands for years, rusted links that forced him to walk with his head down, led by fate with no voice and no choice… they began to crack. Not broken by rage, nor shattered by hatred, but unraveled by something gentler, yet infinitely stronger: their presence.

Drowned in silence, he drifted with no anchor…

He never knew when the chains first began to coil around him. Perhaps it was the day he was wounded for the first time—the jeers and losses layering themselves in his heart one after another. He grew up with voices that imprisoned him: “You’re not good enough.” “You’re just a burden.” “Stay quiet.” And over time, he believed them. He lived like a shadow—present, yet never whole.

But this evening was different.

When Zinnia tapped the table with her finger and Radit let out a rough sigh, his scowl softening, Kaivan felt… alive. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was being seen—not as a tool, not as a victim, but as someone who had a voice. He looked at his hands. The chains… they were gone. What he felt wasn’t cold steel dragging him down anymore, but flesh and blood. Freedom.

The chains are broken now…

He didn’t say it aloud, but his heart knew. The scars were still there, but they no longer held him down. The trauma hadn’t fully healed, but it no longer dictated his every step. And suddenly, the world felt a little wider, a little warmer.

Kaivan reached for the bag beside his chair, placing it carefully on the table. From within, he drew out a bundle of notes, diagrams, and a few battered old phones. He set the phones down in the center of the table, right between Radit and Zinnia.

“I found these at a secondhand market,” he explained, tapping one of the phones lightly. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Inside, there are components we can extract. We can melt them down and obtain gold from these discarded phones.”

Zinnia frowned, leaning forward to examine the phone more closely. Her slender fingers brushed over the worn screen. “And how exactly does this give us a big profit?” she asked, suspicion sharpening her tone.

Radit leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. A skeptical look shadowed his face. “You’re sure there’s really gold in these things?” His voice carried a mocking edge.

Kaivan nodded calmly, his expression steady. Reaching into his bag again, he pulled out a small plastic pouch filled with golden flecks that glittered faintly under the café lights. “Of course there is,” he said as he placed it on the table. “This is what I extracted from the same process before.”

Radit’s eyes narrowed as he studied the shimmering grains, scrutinizing them as though to peel away any deception. “You’re telling me this is real gold—not brass, not scrap metal?”

“If we can refine the process efficiently, and if we have the right tools, this could turn into a very profitable venture,” Kaivan replied, his tone calm yet deliberate.

Radit gave a slow nod, though traces of doubt still lingered in his expression. He reached out, lifting the pouch in his hand and inspecting it closer. “If this really is gold, then I’m in. But I’ll still need more solid proof.”

That was when Zinnia, who had been listening in silence until now, finally spoke. Her voice cut into the air, carrying weight. She leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest. “And how exactly do we sell the gold afterward? Won’t the process be complicated?” Her tone balanced skepticism with a growing curiosity.

Kaivan met her gaze evenly, offering a measured nod. He let out a slow breath, pressing his back against the chair as if anchoring himself. “That’s part of the challenge,” he admitted, his voice low but firm. “But I’ve done my research. There are plenty of small-time buyers. Shops that set up beside jewelry stores with signs that say ‘We buy gold at a high price.’ They accept bars, flakes, even scrap. If we’re smart, we can move it without raising suspicion.”

Radit, sitting directly across from Kaivan, tilted his chair back slightly, his hand rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “Tempting,” he muttered, before lifting his gaze to meet Kaivan’s with sharper intensity. “But how do we secure a steady supply of old phones—cheap and in bulk?”

The question felt like a gauntlet thrown across the table, daring Kaivan to prove his resolve. He leaned forward, his voice carrying a firmer weight now, no longer trembling.

“I’ve already thought of that,” he said, the unshakable conviction in his tone filling the air between them.

“In Bandung, on Jalan Sukabumi No. 30, the City Council building often disposes of electronic waste. And in Majalengka, PT TLI handles hazardous waste processing. Those places could be our main sources. All we need is the right connection,” Kaivan explained.

Zinnia tilted her head slightly, her hair swaying with the movement. Her eyes glimmered with a growing curiosity. “And how exactly do you know all this?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with suspicion.

Kaivan responded only with a faint smile, his gaze shifting briefly toward the window. He knew the truth—that this information came from the Tome Omnicent—was a Pandora’s box he wasn’t ready to open. “I have a contact who works there,” he answered simply, just enough to quell their curiosity for now.

Radit, who had been restless for some time, finally straightened in his seat. He slapped his hand against the table, rattling the coffee cup before him. “Alright then,” he said, his tone more energized.

Zinnia leaned forward, bracing both hands on the table to show her seriousness. “Kaivan, this isn’t some small plan. We’ll need a vehicle—a big one at that. Do you have a solution?”

“I’ll find someone with a car we can work with,” Kaivan replied firmly. “Plenty of kids our age have cars. I’m sure we can convince some to join us, even if only temporarily.”

His confidence seeped into his words, and slowly, Zinnia and Radit began to feel that same conviction.

When Kaivan returned home, as always, his mother greeted him with a warm smile and eyes filled with affection. Her face bore gentle lines carved by the struggles of life, but it only deepened her strength. Since his father’s passing, she had been the only one always there for him—working tirelessly to raise him alone, to provide both protection and an education.

“How was your day, Kaivan? Where have you been?” she asked kindly, setting a cup of warm tea on the table. Her voice was like a soothing melody, cutting through the chaos of the outside world.

Kaivan smiled faintly, sinking into the sofa with a relieved sigh. “I just met with Radit and Zinnia, Mom. We talked about a business plan we want to start.” His tone carried a brightness that was impossible to hide, his eyes sparkling with fresh determination.

His mother’s gaze softened with pride, though behind the smile lingered concern. She knew the path her son had chosen would be filled with trials. “You’re still in school, and already thinking of business? What kind of plan is it?”

Leaning back against the sofa, Kaivan let his eyes wander to the ceiling. “We’re trying to start a business dismantling old phones and selling the components.” He paused, then admitted quietly, “But… I still feel like something’s missing. I need to figure out how to make it grow faster.”

Placing a hand gently on his shoulder, his mother’s warmth radiated through her touch. “Whatever you do, make sure you’re careful. The world is full of surprises, Kaivan. And sometimes, those surprises aren’t kind.”

After talking for a while, Kaivan stepped out onto the balcony. Above him stretched the night sky, stars twinkling like scattered diamonds across a dark tapestry. A soft wind brushed his hair as he sat in a wicker chair, staring at the heavens.

Resting on his lap was the Tome Omnicent, the book that had been the source of all his answers. Its crystalline pages shimmered faintly, glowing with an otherworldly message:

“Once you reach 650 million rupiah, stop dismantling phones and move on. Purchase Bitcoin starting February 10th, 2010.”

Kaivan’s eyes widened, scanning the glowing lines in disbelief. “What is this supposed to mean…?” His voice trembled with uncertainty, barely above a whisper.

Then, suddenly, the Tome Omnicent spoke again, its voice both gentle and echoing, like the whisper of a midnight breeze—comforting, yet haunting. “I can help you retain this knowledge in perfect detail, by expanding your brain’s capacity.”

Kaivan froze. His heartbeat quickened. The offer sounded like a lifeline, yet it pulsed with danger. Swallowing hard, he gave the faintest of nods.

The moment his consent was given, horror followed. An indescribable pain exploded in his head, as though millions of needles pierced every nerve at once. The information he thought would flow in like water instead crashed into him like a tsunami, overwhelming every barrier of his mind, tearing down the walls of his sanity.

Kaivan screamed without a voice, his throat locked tight. A faint cracking sound echoed inside his skull, like glass beginning to shatter. Blood trickled from his nose and eyes—a chilling testament to the destruction raging within his mind. Each word, each symbol that appeared on the pages of the Omnicent Tome became an unbearable torment. Every letter seemed to sear into his consciousness, feeding an agony that felt endless.

The Tome, however, remained cold and merciless. “Ordinarily, a human undergoing this would die instantly, their brain bursting apart,” whispered the book, its tone devoid of any shred of pity, as though death itself were trivial.

Kaivan writhed violently. His body convulsed as though struck by thousands of volts of electricity, joints straining as if they would tear free from their sockets. His screams warped into a ragged, inhuman shriek, veins bulging grotesquely at his temples and throat as if ready to burst. Thick, dark-red streams poured from his eyes, carving grotesque trails down his pale face, now etched with lines of unbearable tension.

The harder he thrashed, the more his muscles and bones seemed to rip apart from within. His spine arched unnaturally, trembling under the crescendo of pain in his skull. Blood seeped from his ears, signaling that his body was nearing its breaking point. His wide, bloodshot eyes lost their color, as though life itself was being dragged from him. His mind was no longer his own—it was a battlefield consumed by chaos, every nerve and muscle rebelling against the torment.

At last, Kaivan could no longer withstand it. Gasping raggedly, he surrendered to the excruciating pain. The world around him faded into darkness. Beneath the dim glow of the moon, his body collapsed limply onto the cold balcony floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

In that instant, an entity emerged from the Omnicent Tome—a figure bathed in radiant white light, yet its eyes gleamed with abyssal darkness. It stood graceful, yet terrifying. The purity of its glow clashed violently with the pride radiating from its gaze.

The being’s eyes studied Kaivan’s limp form with fascination. “His body did not break. His organs and brain remain intact, even though I raised his capacity to twenty percent… not ten, as before,” it murmured, its voice cold yet tinged with genuine wonder, as though astonished that Kaivan still endured.

Beneath the suffocating silence of the night, Kaivan lay motionless, his body sprawled in the unseen war between life and death. His breaths came shallow, nearly imperceptible, while blood slowly seeped from his nose and ears, staining the floor in crimson despair. He resembled a puppet whose strings had been cut. By his side, the Omnicent Tome lay silent.

The entity lingered, its form glowing faintly with a pale, cold light that seemed to weigh down the very air. Its outline remained indistinct—nothing more than a hazy silhouette drifting above the ground. A whisper slithered through the stillness.

“Ah… exhausting. My energy is spent. I must conserve what remains.”

The words carried a chilling satisfaction, as if savoring some grotesque triumph. Slowly, the blood pooling around Kaivan was drawn back into his body, merging with the pale light. The figure then faded away, leaving only suffocating silence in its wake.

---

Time slipped by like an unending nightmare. The suffocating darkness had been replaced by the sterile silence of a hospital. In a ward filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic, Kaivan’s body lay motionless on the medical bed. Machines around him beeped in steady, monotonous rhythms—an ever-present reminder of the fragile thread between life and death. Yet, something extraordinary stirred.

Slowly, his body began to move. His eyelids, sealed tight as though locked in an endless dream, trembled faintly.

Across the room, Radit stood with his arms crossed, his tall frame taut with worry. His gaze never left Kaivan. Nearby, Zinnia sat in a chair, her slender fingers clutching the edge of her skirt in restless tension. Her eyes shimmered with tears, but the instant she saw Kaivan’s eyelids flutter open, hope lit her expression like dawn breaking after a storm.

Zinnia’s voice trembled, caught between relief and fear. “Kaivan… you’re awake!”She rose to her feet in an instant, steps brisk yet careful as she closed the distance to his bedside. Her eyes, shimmering with both joy and worry, never left his face.

Kaivan slowly lifted his hand, brows knitting as if wrestling with something invisible inside him. There was a strangeness lingering in his body, a sensation he couldn’t quite explain. Without sparing Zinnia or Radit a glance, he reached for the IV line and began pulling it free.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Why are you pulling that out?!” Radit barked, his tone sharp as he strode forward, hand half‑raised to stop him. His broad shoulders stiffened, his body torn between action and hesitation.

Kaivan gave no answer at first. He only met Radit’s eyes with a calm, icy gaze. Finally, he spoke, his voice low yet unshakably certain. “I’m fine. My body… it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Kaivan, please…” Zinnia’s hand closed gently around his arm, her words fragile, almost a whisper. “You just woke up. You can’t push yourself like this.”

“I feel incredible. My head… it’s clearer than ever.” His eyes glimmered with a new, unsettling strength, leaving Zinnia and Radit exchanging uneasy glances, shaken by what they saw.

With a deliberate motion, Kaivan threw aside the blanket and swung his legs down. His first step was firm, unhesitating. The frailty that had bound him was gone—he stood tall, unwavering, as if no trace of weakness had ever existed. Crossing the room, he pulled open the curtains, flooding the ward with the soft radiance of morning sunlight.

“So… what day is it?” he asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on the world outside.

Zinnia swallowed hard, her voice hushed but steady. “Today is June 1st, 2009. It’s been nearly two weeks since…” Her words faltered, choked by the weight of emotion.

Kaivan inhaled deeply, the morning air filling his lungs as if it were the first true breath he’d taken in years. The seconds slipped past like a quiet breeze, yet within his mind, something vast was stirring. He turned then, meeting their eyes with a look so resolute it sent a shiver down their spines.

“We’ve already lost enough time,” he said firmly. “Now, I have to continue what was started.”

---

After a moment of stillness, Kaivan decided it was time to return to the life that had once been put on hold. He stepped out of the hospital with steady strides, leaving behind the white walls that had felt like a cage around his freedom.

Once home, Kaivan went straight to his room and faced the Tome Omnicent — the book that had been both his guide and the source of deep suffering. His gaze was sharp, filled with questions still unanswered.

“What have you done to me?” Kaivan asked, his voice no longer lost in confusion but firm, demanding clarity.

The pages of the Tome Omnicent stirred as if responding with quiet grace.

“I only helped you enhance your brain’s capacity, so knowledge could settle within you more easily.”

Kaivan felt a strange vibration inside, as though every word he heard could now slip neatly into place in his mind. Information that once felt alien was suddenly clear, perfectly arranged. “So, what’s my next step?” he asked.

“Find a man named Frans,” the book whispered. “Help him approach a girl — and bring scissors.”

Kaivan paused, turning over the peculiar instructions. They made no sense, yet he knew that every direction from the Tome carried meaning hidden behind its veil of mystery.

As his new life unfolded, Kaivan felt the Tome’s mysterious energy ever present. This time, its guidance led him toward a man named Frans, someone entangled in a complicated love story.

Kaivan walked along a narrow path toward the bustling city park. His footsteps were quiet amid the lively hum of people passing by. Under the rising sunlight, his eyes swept the surroundings until they caught sight of a man at the end of the path, clutching a small bouquet.

Carefully, Kaivan approached Frans, making sure not to startle him. With a soft voice, he began, “Hey, what are you doing out here?” His tone was friendly, yet tinged with genuine curiosity.

Frans turned, startled, a flicker of caution in his gaze. “Who are you? Why are you asking me that?” His voice was firm, though a thread of unease wove through it.

Smiling lightly, Kaivan replied, “I like seeing people in love. So… who’s the lucky girl?”

Frans blinked, taken aback by the question. Something in Kaivan’s expression reassured him that this young man meant no harm. At last, Frans spoke. “That girl over there — her name’s Tira.” He nodded toward a young woman chatting with her friends. “I’m about to tell her how I feel, so maybe… we can start dating.”

Kaivan opened the Tome Omnicent he always carried. Its enchanted pages turned on their own, stopping at a single passage that revealed an unexpected set of instructions:

“Wait at one twelve, in front of the building. Snip the thin rope holding the paint bucket, then let Frans guide Tira forward, until their eyes meet.”

Closing the book calmly, Kaivan looked at Frans with quiet resolve. “Hold on. Don’t do it yet. Let’s wait half an hour — until things settle down.”

Frans frowned, confusion written across his face. “Why not now? More people means it’s more serious, right?” There was doubt in his tone, but also tension.

Kaivan’s smile was gentle, meant to soothe him. “You want this to be a moment Tira won’t forget — not just a dramatic display in front of a crowd. Trust me, magic happens in stillness.”

Frans shifted his gaze back and forth between Tira and Kaivan. Conflict flickered in his eyes—the urge to act colliding with a fragile trust slowly forming toward this mysterious young man. Finally, he let out a long sigh and nodded. “Alright. We’ll wait, just as you said.”

The two of them settled onto a bench hidden behind a cluster of shrubs, with a clear view of Tira. The square grew quieter as time passed. The crowd that had gathered earlier began to drift away, leaving the place calm under the soft breeze.

Kaivan glanced at his watch. “It’s time. Follow me.” He rose with deliberate steps, Frans trailing close behind, calmer now. They headed toward the building mentioned in the book’s instructions. There, Kaivan spotted the rope tied around a large bucket of paint,

exactly as described. With swift precision, he pulled out the scissors and snipped the cord, loosening its hold.

Turning to Frans, Kaivan’s eyes sharpened. “Now go. Call Tira, but don’t speak right away. Let her come to you.”

Frans hesitated but obeyed, striding toward Tira with quiet determination. He called her name softly, yet with unmistakable intent. “Tira.”

The midday sun blanketed the city in a gentle warmth, casting long shadows across the pavement where Frans and Kaivan stood. The atmosphere was serene, but inside Frans’ chest, nerves roared like a storm. In the distance, Tira—the girl who had always been at the center of his thoughts—walked leisurely toward them. Her loose hair shimmered in the sunlight.

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from above. “Heads up below!” a construction worker shouted. Frans and Kaivan instinctively looked up. A heavy bucket of paint swung precariously at the end of a fraying rope.

“Oh no,” Frans muttered, panic flashing across his face. His gaze darted toward Tira, still strolling casually, unaware of the danger.

The rope snapped. The bucket plummeted with frightening speed, aimed straight at her. In an instant, Frans’ nervousness evaporated. He tossed his bouquet into the air with surprising grace, his stride swift yet controlled. As the flowers floated above, he lunged toward Tira.

“Tira! Watch out!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the air.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close with all his strength. Their bodies collided, but Frans positioned himself to shield her. Just as the bucket crashed into the ground behind them with a resounding thud, he twisted to absorb the impact. Tira collapsed into his embrace.

Dust swirled around them, heightening the drama of the moment. Bystanders froze, some covering their mouths in astonishment, amplifying the intimacy of an already charged scene. Frans held Tira tightly, his heartbeat racing. Their eyes met—so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek.

“Tira, are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse with a tumult of emotions. He searched her face for any sign of injury.

She didn’t answer immediately. A blush spread across her cheeks, and her eyes softened, as if realizing the intensity of what had just happened. “I… I’m fine,” she whispered, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

From afar, Kaivan approached with unhurried steps. He stooped to pick up the fallen bouquet, brushing off the dust, and handed it to Frans. “Here—your flowers,” he said with a subtle smile, his gaze meaningful, urging Frans to take the next step.

Frans nodded, steadying himself. His eyes gleamed with sincerity as he looked at Tira. “I’m sorry, Tira. I wanted to confess my feelings in a better way, not like this.” He gripped the bouquet tightly before offering it to her. “But… I can’t wait any longer. Tira, will you be my girlfriend?”

His words hung in the air, stretching a silence that felt eternal. Tira, still cradled in his arms, gazed into his eyes. A flicker of hesitation passed over her face, then a tender smile bloomed.

“I will, Frans,” she said softly, almost a whisper. Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes shone with genuine affection. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Frans blinked, elation flooding him. He could hardly believe the dream he had kept secret for so long was finally real. Tira slowly pulled away, excusing herself to return to her friends waiting nearby.

Kaivan patted his shoulder with an easy camaraderie. “You did it, huh?” he said with a light laugh.

Still buoyed by joy, Frans laughed aloud. “You’re amazing, man! Without your help, I’d never have had the courage.”

Kaivan smiled warmly. “Ah, don’t exaggerate. I just gave you a little nudge. But hey, I’m starting a business—how about joining me? I’m looking for a partner to work on refurbishing old phones.”

Frans laughed harder, his nerves completely gone. “That sounds awesome! Let’s give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe this is the start of something big.”

---

A few hours later, Kaivan sat alone by the edge of a small river. The afternoon breeze rustled his hair, carrying the scent of cool water and wild grass. In his hands, he held Omnicent—the enigmatic tome that pulsed faintly as if alive. Suddenly, a soft yet firm voice whispered from within its pages.

Kaivan frowned, straining to catch the words. “Head north, three days from now.”

“North? Not to PT TLI?” he muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitting together. His gaze locked onto the book as inky lines began to stir across its parchment, slowly sketching an intricate map that unfolded like a living thing.

“Incredible…” Kaivan breathed, awestruck. But a new concern tugged at him. “How am I supposed to get there? I don’t even have a vehicle.”

As though answering his doubt, Omnicent shimmered and another phrase etched itself across the page: Return home at once.

When Kaivan arrived back at the house, a surprise awaited him. His mother stood smiling in the garage beside a brand-new motorbike. “Kaivan, you just got out of the hospital. From now on, use this, okay? It’ll save you the trouble if you need to go far.”

Kaivan slid the key into the ignition. The engine hummed softly, a rhythm that promised the beginning of a new journey. A faint smile curved his lips as he whispered to himself, “This is the start of everything.” His words nearly vanished beneath the gentle purr of the motor.

As he rode through the fading light, Kaivan’s thoughts wandered to the events that had led him here. The grief and betrayals he once carried were now little more than distant shadows, slowly replaced by a quiet determination taking root within him. He understood, at last, that every small step forward was guiding him toward something far greater than himself.