CHAPTER 6 – The Encounter That Changed Everything | Part A

Author’s Note – Volume 2

Volume 1 was about discovery — about touching something you were never meant to find.Volume 2 begins when the world finally notices.

New Tomes will appear, and not all of them are interested in balance.New factions will move quietly, driven not by legends or prophecies, but by very human beliefs, fear, and desperation.

From here on, things don’t reset so easily.Choices linger. Power asks for payment. And some conflicts exist simply because they can’t be avoided.

Thank you for staying with the story.Let’s see how far this road is willing to go.

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Leaning against his motorcycle, Kaivan’s figure looked small beneath the fading light of dusk. His jacket fluttered in the breeze; his eyes, sharp yet weary, stared at the lake as if searching for meaning in its reflection. His fingers tightened around the handlebars—the last thing he could still hold onto in a world beginning to crack.

Silence blanketed the place.

Then, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness. Two beams of light sliced through the twilight, their glow rippling across the mirrored water. Kaivan lifted his gaze, squinting. His heartbeat fell into rhythm with the sound of the engine.

A faint smile crossed his lips. “Radit... Felicia...”

The motorcycles halted not far from him. Radit was the first to step off—quick, agile, like a bullet yet to be fired. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, a familiar habit from childhood.

Felicia followed. Her steps were graceful; her long black hair swayed like a living shadow. Her crimson eyes burned softly, calm yet tense—like a drawn bow waiting for release.

Kaivan greeted them with a slight nod. His small smile was enough to thaw the chill in the air. “Welcome,” he said quietly, sincerity hidden within the simplicity of his words. For a moment, the fractured world between them seemed to pause.

Radit smirked, hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders raised in his usual nonchalant way. “Sorry we’re late,” he said, though a faint trace of guilt lingered in his tone.

Felicia gave a subtle nod. Her voice was calm, sharp as glass. “We left something behind.”The evening wind brushed her hair as her eyes met Kaivan’s—not just greeting, but searching.

Kaivan exhaled softly and shook his head. “What matters is that you came.”His voice was steady like the lake before them, though his heart was far less still.

A short distance away, Ethan leaned against his bike, arms crossed, eyes quietly observing every movement. He said nothing—but his gaze was that of a wolf, measuring the field before the hunt.

Radit sensed the faint tension in the air. He spoke up, "Felicia said you lost something? Don’t tell me... the Tome Omnicent?" His tone sounded casual, but its edge was sharp.

His glance flicked toward Felicia, who merely shrugged. Yet her eyes shifted to Ethan—sharp, probing—as if dissecting every inch of him with her mind.

Felicia lifted her chin slightly. Her voice was cold.

"Who is he?"

Kaivan drew in a long breath. His answer was direct.

"Ethan. He’s the one who took my bike. My money, phone... and the Tome Omnicent."

A heavy silence hung between them, like evening mist refusing to be scattered by the light. Radit frowned. Felicia stayed quiet, her stare sharpening further, as though trying to read Ethan’s thoughts.

Ethan knew he was being judged. He sighed, slipped his hands into his jacket pockets, and gave a crooked smile—an attempt at defense that felt forced.

"Heh, that was in the past," he said, trying to sound relaxed. "Besides, it was my friends’ job. I just... went along. Now, I actually want to help you guys."

His gaze, a little uneasy, met Kaivan’s calm eyes—steady, but not yet trusting.

Radit leaned closer to Felicia and whispered, "You really think we can trust him?"

Kaivan inhaled deeply, then looked straight at Ethan. "Can we trust you, Ethan?"

Ethan straightened. "Of course you can."

Kaivan turned immediately to Radit and Felicia. "You heard him. So, I’ll believe him."

Radit scratched his head, caught between annoyance and admiration. "I can’t tell, Kaivan... are you stupid or a genius?"

Felicia shook her head slightly. Kaivan’s answer was too simple—too risky. Yet after a pause, she nodded, her tone firm. "All right. I’ll trust whatever Kaivan says."

Kaivan smiled faintly. His voice was hoarse, slicing through the silence."We have a new goal now. I need to meet someone—his name is Raphael. He’s here… in Purwakarta."

He looked westward, where the last light of sunset streaked across the sky."It’s Saturday. That means we have tomorrow to prepare."

Felicia’s crimson eyes glimmered softly, filled with unwavering determination. A thin smile curved her lips—beautiful, yet sharp. "I’m here to help."

Radit, standing beside her, rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly. “We’re still high schoolers,” he muttered under his breath, as if talking to himself. “But what we’re doing… feels like something adults would. When you think about it, this is insane.” His gaze turned to Kaivan, searching for some kind of answer.

Kaivan looked at him steadily, then raised the Tome Omnicent. “Trust me… your names are written here.”

Radit hesitated, then slowly nodded. Kaivan’s calm conviction was too strong to dismiss.

Ethan, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, his eyes falling on Felicia. “Kaivan, taking Radit makes sense. But… a girl? You know this could get dangerous, right?”

Felicia stopped fixing her hair. Her crimson eyes locked onto Ethan’s, sharp and unflinching. She stepped forward, calm but deliberate. “Danger?” her voice was low, yet every word cut like a blade. “You should think carefully before you talk about danger… especially to someone like me.”

She stopped right in front of him—tall, firm, and fearless. Kaivan and Radit exchanged a glance. They knew who Felicia was. Not just a friend. A shield. A weapon.

Kaivan stepped in, his tone flat but resolute. “Felicia will be fine. You’ll understand why I brought her soon.”

At that very moment, new words appeared on the pages of the Tome—like a whisper threading through Kaivan’s chest: “Find Raphael and help him escape from J.A.T.”

Kaivan’s face stiffened. The command wasn’t just an instruction—it was a sign of something far greater waiting ahead.

Radit, sitting nearby, noticed the change in Kaivan’s expression. His voice was quiet but firm. “All right… let’s head back,” he said, as if pulling them away from the edge of something they weren’t ready to face.

Ethan nodded slightly. His eyes lingered on Kaivan’s face before he spoke, “See you next time.” There was hesitation in his voice, a trace of regret for coming this far—because deep down, he knew this wasn’t just a teenage adventure.

But before Radit could move, Felicia stopped him. She raised one hand, forcing him to halt mid-step. Her gaze locked on Kaivan, steady and unyielding. “But we have to find Raphael, right?” Her voice pierced through the night air, carrying a conviction that allowed no retreat.

Radit exhaled heavily. “Haaah… Gangsters I can deal with. But terrorists, realy? J.A.T.… they’re not a joke. This is insane.” His eyes narrowed, haunted by memories he clearly wanted to forget.

In the middle of that unease, Kaivan lowered his head. He reopened the Tome Omnicent, whispering almost to himself, “Will we all make it out alive?”

For a moment, the page remained blank. Then, slowly, words formed—like fate whispering back: “Of course. As long as you follow my guidance, everyone will survive.”

Kaivan read it aloud, his voice echoing softly—a fragile bridge between hope and fear. Felicia gave a small nod, her eyes calm and bright. “Then it’s settled. We’re going.”

Night swallowed the last trace of dusk as the three—Kaivan, Felicia, and Ethan—left the lake behind.

Along the quiet roads of Purwakarta, they found an old wooden inn. Dim lights and warm air greeted their weary bodies. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was enough—to sleep, to breathe, to gather their courage once more.

Before tomorrow came… and whatever awaited them with it.

As the night deepened, Felicia quietly rose from her chair. She combed her long hair with her fingers, then dabbed a faint tint onto her lips—an ordinary gesture that carried an effortless grace.

“I’m going out for a bit. Need to grab something to eat,” she said softly, slipping on a thin jacket.

Ethan, sitting near the door with one leg propped on his chair, glanced at her anxiously. “You sure you don’t want company? It’s pretty late.”

Felicia smiled—cool and composed. “I’ll be fine.”

Her footsteps faded into the night. Amid the chill wind and dim neon lights, she found a small roadside eatery. The aroma of fried rice and soup mingled with the clatter of dishes and murmurs of conversation. Felicia chose a corner seat beneath a crooked yellow lamp. Her shadow flickered across the table—serene, yet alert.

Her eyes swept around the room—the door, the kitchen, every corner that didn’t feel quite right. There was something in the quiet that held her breath still.

Then came footsteps—steady, deliberate.

A man approached, his face dimly lit by the hanging lamp.

“Good evening,” he greeted in a calm, even tone. “Mind if I sit here?”

Felicia didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze traveled over him—from his hair to the movement of his jaw. She read his posture, listened to his tone, sensed his intent.

A faint smile touched her lips. “Go ahead,” she said softly but cautiously, nodding toward the chair across from her.

The man sat down. His eyes were sharp, piercing. His hands folded on the table, his body leaning slightly forward.

Between the wooden table and the dim light, two intentions collided—and Felicia knew this was no ordinary meal.

The man leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking, the air tightening in the space between. His gaze was cold, calculating. Felicia realized she was being assessed—not as a woman, but as a threat.

“Alone?” he asked, his tone smooth but cutting.

Felicia didn’t reply right away. Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen—useless. Only an old cook, busy chopping vegetables. She exhaled slowly and met the man’s gaze again.

A faint smile curved his lips, like a fisherman savoring the tension of his line.

“Forgive me—I haven’t introduced myself. Raphael.” He extended his hand. Calm. Controlled. Every movement precise.

Felicia took it, her gesture slow and deliberate. Her fingers touched his—not limp, but not forceful either. Just enough to say: I know who you are, and I’m not afraid.

Raphael’s skin was rough, his grip firm. Felicia held his gaze, returning the pressure steadily. A silent duel played out in their handshake.

“Felicia,” she answered softly. Her gentle tone carried an unspoken strength that needed no volume.

When their hands parted, the air grew heavy—as if the silence itself had caught fire.

Felicia spoke again, her tone light though her eyes remained vigilant. “Where are you from?”

Raphael smiled faintly, almost like a shadow. “From this city as well. But where we come from doesn’t matter as much as where we’re going, Felicia.”

The words lingered—an unspoken challenge hanging between them. Felicia realized something then: this man wasn’t just a stranger. He was a riddle. And maybe, the key.

Felicia shifted slightly in her seat, positioning herself for movement if things turned hostile. She didn’t know whether Raphael was a threat or an ally—but one thing was certain: this meeting was no coincidence. And she had to be ready for whatever came next.

Inside the dimly lit room, the soft glow of a fading lamp cast gentle shadows on the wooden walls. The ticking of a clock blended with the faint whisper of wind seeping through the window cracks. Ethan and Radit stood by the doorway—restless, yet composed. Ethan narrowed his eyes, while Radit simply looked down.

“We’re stepping out for a bit. Need some air… maybe a smoke. You coming?” Ethan asked, voice flat.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor with the Tome Omnicent resting on his lap, Kaivan lifted his gaze. His eyes gleamed with quiet focus. “I’ll stay. Be careful.”

They nodded, then left.

Kaivan opened the Tome. On the blank page, faint lines of ink began to surface, forming words: Go to Felicia, outside the inn. You will meet Raphael.

His heart skipped a beat. That name again—Raphael. No time to hesitate. He watched as the letters slowly faded, exhaled a long breath, and shut the book with resolve. Grabbing his jacket, he rose to his feet and stepped into the night.

---

At a small roadside diner, Felicia sat quietly, her fingers tapping lightly against a half-empty glass of tea. She wasn’t really drinking—just thinking. Across from her sat a man whose posture was calm, but whose eyes carried the sharpness of a blade.

Raphael.

His smile was faint, genuine even, yet there was something beneath it—a subtle edge, like a knife hidden beneath silk. Felicia knew this wasn’t a casual meeting. It was the beginning of something much larger.

“Do you come to places like this often?” she asked, voice light, as if this were nothing more than polite conversation.

Raphael raised a brow before smiling slightly. “Sometimes. Quiet places help me think.” He rolled his sleeves to his elbows—a simple motion, but deliberate. “And you?”

Felicia was just about to reply when hurried footsteps echoed near the entrance. Her body tensed instantly, instincts flaring. Raphael noticed it too, though his expression didn’t change. They both turned at the same moment.

Kaivan stood in the doorway, his breathing faintly uneven. His eyes met Felicia’s, and in that brief moment, an unspoken message passed between them. Felicia flicked her gaze toward Raphael. Kaivan understood immediately.

Without hesitation, he walked over, masking his tension behind a gentle, practiced smile. “Hey, love. Did you already order?” he asked softly, like a man used to sharing quiet dinners with his partner.

Felicia blinked in surprise but caught on quickly. “Y-yeah, I did, love,” she replied, her tone wavering just slightly. She forced a shy smile, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip, playing along with the act.

Raphael watched them, his smile thinning but never fading. “Oh?” he murmured, leaning back in his chair. “So, you’re a couple. Interesting.”

In the dim corner of the diner, Kaivan pulled out a chair with slow confidence. The sound of wood scraping against the floor mingled with the soft hum of surrounding chatter. Sitting beside Felicia, his posture was calm yet commanding—impossible to ignore. His gaze met Raphael’s with quiet steadiness.

Then, with a smooth but deliberate motion, Kaivan extended his hand. His eyes locked onto Raphael’s—unwavering, fearless.

“Kaivan,” he said, his voice even, but firm beneath the calm. “Felicia’s fiancé. And you are?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied Kaivan with unsettling focus. His dark eyes took in everything—the way Kaivan sat, the subtle movement of his hands, the faint control in his tone. After a long, heavy pause, Raphael finally reached out and shook his hand. His grip was strong—not out of courtesy, but as a quiet warning.

“Raphael,” he replied flatly. His tone wasn’t aggressive, but sharp enough to suggest he wasn’t someone easily trusted. He released the handshake slowly, his gaze never leaving Kaivan’s.

Felicia brushed her hair aside, a small motion that barely concealed her unease. The air around the table thickened, tension weaving itself between the two men—like chess players reading each other’s next move.

Leaning back casually, Raphael’s eyes remained sharp. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Kaivan smiled faintly. “No. Just passing through.”

Their voices stayed light, but the silence beneath them told a different story. Raphael drummed his fingers against the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern—the kind that belonged to someone deep in thought. His gaze flickered toward Felicia, gauging her reaction without a word.

---

The conversation was more than small talk. Kaivan spoke carefully, every word like a step on a blade’s edge. Raphael, equally skilled, responded with the calm of a predator. Neither wanted to make the first move.

Outside, the night grew deeper. Ethan and Radit walked down the empty sidewalk, their shadows stretching long beneath the dim streetlights.

Suddenly, Radit stopped. His hand shot out, grabbing Ethan’s arm.

“Look over there,” he whispered.

In the distance stood an old building, faintly illuminated by moonlight. Cracks ran along its walls like open wounds. Several figures slipped inside—each dressed in a stark white robe, unnaturally bright against the darkness.

Radit narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right.

“This isn’t just some random place,” he murmured. The tension in his voice was like a drawn bowstring, ready to snap.

Ethan’s gaze sharpened, analyzing every movement of the men in white. “Could be a ritual,” he muttered—calm, but wary.

“Should we check it out?” Radit asked softly, unease threading his tone.

Ethan nodded once. They moved forward cautiously, blending into the shadows. Each breath was measured. Each step swallowed by silence.

“I don’t like this feeling…” Radit breathed.

Ethan didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the building ahead—its silhouette jagged and ghostly among the trees. The cracks in its walls looked like scars that refused to heal.

Above them, the clouds hung low, dimming what little light the moon offered. Only a flickering streetlamp gave shape to the suffocating dark.

“They went in without a sound,” Radit whispered, eyes tracing the figures that vanished into the black doorway.

Ethan folded his arms. “Think they noticed us?”

“If they did, they’d have reacted. But this… it’s too quiet. Too precise,” Radit muttered, his gaze fixed on the door now closed tight.

They crept closer, the trees around them serving as cover. Their hearts beat steady—but heavy.

Across town, in the dim corner of a small restaurant, Kaivan sat opposite Raphael. Their eyes locked, words reduced to mere shadows of what they truly meant—a clash of wills, of truths. Each waited for the other to speak first.

Kaivan leaned forward slightly, fingers interlaced. “Raphael,” he said calmly, though each word carried a subtle edge. “What do you do? And… those men in white robes?”

Raphael adjusted his sleeve, a faint smile forming. “I’m learning to be sincere in life,” he said, his voice smooth—too smooth, like a prayer polished by deceit.

Kaivan’s stare didn’t waver. Felicia, beside him, bit her lip. Something about this didn’t feel right.

“Sincerity doesn’t need a uniform or a teacher,” Kaivan replied softly. “Only a conscious heart.”

Raphael’s smile faded. His gaze hardened. “Without guidance, you’ll lose your way. Better to follow me.”

Felicia’s hand tightened around Kaivan’s arm—a silent warning. Kaivan inhaled slowly, then answered, voice calm but firm, “Maybe I’ll think about it. But for now, we should go.”

He stood, taking Felicia’s hand. Raphael didn’t stop them, only spoke quietly, “I’ll be at the park tomorrow morning. If you’re ready.”

They stepped out into the night, walking quickly but without haste. Kaivan’s grip remained firm. At the end of the empty alley, Felicia exhaled at last—the tension slowly slipping from her shoulders.

Meanwhile, under the cloak of darkness, Radit and Ethan crawled closer to the old building. Radit signaled. Ethan nodded. The towering structure loomed above them, silent and secretive. They advanced—soundless, alert.

Then, a hoarse voice echoed from within the building, rough and heavy like a curse.

“If they all believe… we can blow up several places at once.”

Radit froze. His eyes met Ethan’s—terror flickering sharp and sudden. Ethan raised his hand, motioning for silence. Both pressed low to the ground, their bodies merging with the shadows.

“Exactly. Teenagers with family problems are easier to turn into suicide bombers,” another voice replied—cold, certain, and terrifyingly calm.

The words struck them like a hammer. Radit bit his lip, his chest tightening as if bound by an invisible rope. Ethan held his breath, eyes fixed on the dim window of the building.

“We need to get out,” Ethan whispered, his voice barely holding steady. He reached out, tugging gently on Radit’s arm.

They began to retreat—slowly, carefully, their footsteps almost soundless. But just as they were about to clear the bushes, a pair of eyes caught them. A man standing by the building glanced their way for a split second—unconcerned, then turned back to what he was doing.

Ethan exhaled quietly, relief flickering across his face, but he still nudged Radit to keep moving. They crouched low, dashing through the corridor of shadows. The pale moonlight followed them, a silent witness to their escape.

“Ethan… what we heard back there—was that really… a suicide plot?” Radit’s voice trembled, disbelief and fear tangled together.

Ethan stopped. His jaw tightened, his eyes cutting through the darkness. “Yeah. They’re not just extremists. They’re an organization… and Raphael might be one of them.”

He clenched his fist. “We have to warn Kaivan. Now.”

They quickened their pace but kept silent. Every shadow felt like a watching eye, every whisper of wind carried an unseen threat. The quiet street stretched longer than usual—as if time itself tried to keep them from reaching safety.

Meanwhile, on the road toward the inn, Kaivan and Felicia walked side by side. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the night. Felicia’s grip was tight, almost desperate—as if that small warmth was the only thing holding her together.

Kaivan noticed her trembling hand. He turned slightly, studying Felicia’s face—it looked more fragile than he remembered. Then, in a soft and trembling voice, she asked:

“Kaivan… does this mean we’re engaged now?”

Kaivan stopped. The question hung between them, heavier than the silence around them. He met her gaze and replied with a faint smile—gentle, but distant.

“It was just an act, Felicia. You can let go now.”

Felicia didn’t answer right away. Her fingers slowly slipped away from his, surrendering to the creeping cold. Her smile was stiff, fragile. “Oh… just pretend, huh,” she murmured, barely audible.

They began walking again—but no longer side by side. There was a space between them now. A quiet distance, born from a truth too honest to deny.

When they arrived at the inn, Radit and Ethan rushed straight to Kaivan. Their faces were tense, breaths uneven.

“We found their base,” Radit said quickly. His eyes burned—not with panic, but with the weight of a truth too cruel to keep silent.

Kaivan crossed his arms, standing firm. “How can you be sure?”

Ethan stepped forward. “We followed a group of teens into an abandoned building. Inside… we heard their plan. It’s huge—too big to ignore. They’re recruiting troubled kids… to turn them into suicide bombers.”

Silence. The world seemed to hold its breath.

Felicia’s hand tightened around Kaivan’s arm. Radit stared at the floor, jaw clenched. Kaivan lowered his gaze, anger flickering beneath his calm expression.

“I know what we have to do.”

He opened the Tome of Omnicent.

The pages glowed softly, ancient letters shimmering like whispers of fate. Lines of text appeared, moving and reshaping into commands that could not be disobeyed.

Felicia stepped closer. Ethan and Radit stood behind Kaivan. Together, they read in silence—gathering courage, forming resolve. Beneath every word, they understood: this wasn’t just a mission.

It was their first act of resistance. And failure wasn’t an option.

Kaivan lifted his eyes from the Tome, its light reflecting in his pupils. “There’s a path we must follow,” he said quietly, voice steady yet sharp. “The book doesn’t lie. We just have to walk its course.”

Felicia nodded. Beneath her calm expression lay the realization that this went beyond strategy. It was a test—of trust, friendship, and faith.

The pages turned on their own, forming sentences that pulsed with meaning: Infiltrate their ranks. Do not be swayed. Convince them to abandon the cause of terror. The words lit a fire in Kaivan’s chest.

“So we’re pretending to be terrorists now?” Ethan asked flatly, his tone skeptical. His eyes narrowed at Kaivan, who was still bathed in the Tome’s glow.

Kaivan didn’t answer immediately. He reached for a karambit and a thin chain he’d brought from Cimahi, linking them together with deliberate, focused movements. “We’re not joining them,” he said, low and firm. “We’re infiltrating.”

The conviction in his voice was contagious.

Radit leaned against the wall, eyes distant. “We’re just four high school kids,” he muttered. “And our enemies… they know how to kill without leaving a trace. We don’t even know what they’re after.”

Felicia stepped closer to the window, her silhouette outlined by the dim glow of the streetlights. “But we know they’re wrong. We know their teachings are twisted.” Her eyes were sharp, cutting through the fog of doubt. “They won’t be able to manipulate us easily.”

She turned toward Kaivan, searching for an answer in his silent face.

Kaivan said nothing. He set the chained karambit on the floor and took a deep breath. His mind spun rapidly—this wasn’t just infiltration anymore. It was a battle without any promise of survival.

Silence settled over the room.

Then, the television flickered on by itself, casting cold light across their faces. A breaking news report appeared. A reporter stood in front of an international building, rows of flags swaying behind her.

Something far greater was already in motion.

“Seven days until the Asian–African Conference…”

Radit changed the channel with a grumble. “Seriously? No good anime this late?”

Ethan immediately cut in. “Radit—go back to the news.”

The image returned: barricades, heavy weapons, and world leaders scheduled to gather in Bandung. The reporter spoke quickly, as if racing against time. “...The conference will be held over two days in the city of Bandung…”

Kaivan froze. His eyes sharpened, thoughts clicking together like gears locking into place.

“They’re targeting that conference,” he whispered.

Radit straightened. “You mean—they’re planning to hit world leaders?”

Felicia clenched her fists. “This isn’t just about kids being recruited. They’re trying to spark chaos on a global scale.”

Ethan exhaled a thin trail of smoke, his face grim but his eyes darkly alive. “If we stay quiet, we’re helping them kill.”

Radit shook his head, but his voice carried a growing resolve. “We’re just high school students… but who else knows the truth if not us?”

Kaivan nodded. “If we tell the police, they’ll never believe us.”

He looked at each of them, one by one, then spoke in a tone that cut through the silence. “We infiltrate their group. Convince them to stop. And if that fails… we end it from the inside.”

Ethan lowered his head, his cigarette almost burned out. “How, exactly?”

Felicia turned from the window, her hair swaying softly, but her gaze pierced straight through Kaivan. “Raphael. He once asked you to join them, didn’t he? That ‘path of sincerity’ thing…”

The room went still. Kaivan didn’t answer, but the tension in the air said enough. And from that silence, their dangerous plan began to take shape—slowly, but surely.

Ethan stood abruptly, breath caught in his throat, eyes wide with disbelief. His fists tightened as though holding back something explosive.

“Wait…” His voice rose, breaking the quiet. “You’ve already met Raphael? Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do?” His tone wavered between fear and suspicion.

Kaivan met his gaze steadily. “Yes,” he said at last—flat, calm, unwavering.

He looked down, fingers tracing the metal of his chained karambit, as if searching his own thoughts within its cold surface.

“He’s gone too far. That ideology has him completely bound. We need proof—and a path from the Tome Omnicent. Without it, he won’t listen.”

Felicia moved closer, soundless as a shadow. Her eyes fixed on Kaivan, filled with faith—and something dangerously close to devotion.

Radit and Ethan exchanged glances. Radit’s jaw tightened. Ethan drew in a slow breath, then exhaled, as if gathering the last of his courage.

Kaivan opened the Tome Omnicent. Its pages glowed with a soft, silver light. The room fell silent. Even the lamps dimmed, as if yielding to something sacred.

He closed his eyes and asked quietly in his heart:

“Where can I find Raphael?”

Silence sealed the air. Seconds froze. Then, a silver radiance bled from the pages—flowing like liquid ink suspended in air. It formed shapes, shifting until a three-dimensional map shimmered before him, whispering directions without sound.

Kaivan’s eyes traced every glowing point—each one a place Raphael had once visited. His gaze hardened, memorizing every path, every possibility. With one smooth motion, he closed the book. The light faded, returning the room to shadow.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said calmly, “we move. Watch him. Find an opening.”

Felicia nodded. Radit clenched his fists. Ethan stayed silent, but his eyes said everything—they were ready.

Dawn came soft and pale. The scent of wet earth drifted on the breeze. The park was nearly empty, save for a lone figure in a white robe, sitting still on a wooden bench, his back to them. Leaves rustled gently, warning them to tread carefully.

Kaivan halted. His heartbeat quickened. Beside him, Felicia stood rigid, her crimson eyes scanning every shadow. Behind them, Ethan and Radit crouched low, their breathing steady but sharp with alertness.

A thin mist still veiled the park as Kaivan stepped forward. Each stride pressed softly against damp grass and brittle leaves, creating a rhythm that pulsed with the earth’s quiet breath. Felicia followed, her shoulders squared, her eyes sharp as glass.