CHAPTER 6 – The Encounter That Changed Everything | Part B

Morning sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering across the dew like broken glass. Beneath the great oak, Raphael sat unmoving. His posture was straight, his gaze distant—like a man conversing with something unseen.

Kaivan emerged from the brush, slim but resolute, his stare cutting through the air. Three shadows followed close behind. They came not to fight, but to kindle the first spark of change. The world itself seemed to hold its breath, awaiting what would come next.

Raphael lifted his head slowly. When his eyes met Kaivan’s, he smiled faintly—an expression that wavered between warmth and menace. Yet that smile vanished the moment he saw Felicia and the others. His gaze grew sharp, judging, dissecting.

“Kaivan,” he said evenly. “You and your fiancée again. But this time, you brought company?”

Kaivan stopped three meters away—a safe distance, steady and unyielding. “They’re my friends,” he replied, glancing at Felicia. “You met her yesterday, didn’t you?”

Felicia stepped forward half a pace, offering a polite nod. Her smile was soft, but her eyes gleamed like hidden blades. Every move was measured, her stance quietly ready.

“And these are Ethan and Radit,” Kaivan continued.

Ethan gave a short nod, eyes sweeping the surroundings. Radit looked relaxed, though his fingers fidgeted subtly—his body language whispering readiness.

“Psst, so Kaivan and Felicia are engaged?” Ethan murmured under his breath.Radit half-covered his mouth. “News to me, man…”They didn’t realize—it was only a façade. A ploy.

Raphael’s gaze lingered on each of them, piercing and deliberate. He paused on Ethan, then on Radit—curious, yet inscrutable.

“Friends, huh?” he muttered. His arms crossed, his head dipping slightly. “This path isn’t for everyone. Only those who truly understand.”

Kaivan didn’t flinch. His eyes locked with Raphael’s, his voice calm and firm. “We’re ready. We seek the truth of life.”

The morning breeze brushed through his hair. Tension thickened the air. Felicia inched closer, aligning her stance, her weight shifting subtly. One wrong move—and she’d strike.

Finally, Raphael stood, adjusting his worn robe. “Very well,” he said, voice low but with a faint undercurrent. “Follow me. You’ll meet the others.”

They followed a narrow path that grew quieter with every step. The light dimmed beneath the thick canopy, and the once warm park turned into a maze of shadows. Felicia walked just behind Kaivan, her eyes scanning every corner. Ethan and Radit trailed close, their steps light but tense.

Raphael led them without hesitation. His posture was firm, his stride steady—as if guiding them not just toward a place, but toward the edge between faith and ruin.

The old building loomed ahead, its walls covered in moss, its cracked windows veiled in age. The door creaked under Raphael’s touch, the sound slicing through the silence like a quiet warning: a line had just been crossed.

“Same place as yesterday,” Radit whispered to Ethan.

Ethan only nodded, his face drawn tight. They stepped inside. Damp air clung to their skin; the stench of rotting wood and dust filled their lungs. An oil lamp hung from the ceiling, its trembling flame painting the room in flickering gold and shadow. The silence was heavy—alive, somehow.

A group of men sat cross-legged on a worn carpet, dressed in plain white tunics. Some looked calm, others wary. When Kaivan and the others entered, tension rippled through the air.

Raphael moved to the center. “New recruits. They came to learn our teachings. Welcome them as brothers.”

No one spoke. The flame flickered, and the shadows seemed to lean in, studying every move.

From the far corner, an old man with a white beard stared sharply. His voice was deep, steady. “Are you truly prepared? This path is not for those who hesitate.”

Kaivan stepped forward, meeting his gaze. “We are,” he said firmly. “We came to understand, not to watch from the outside.”

The old man’s eyes searched his face—probing, measuring. Silence followed. Then, a slow nod, like a silent verdict. “This road is steep. There is no room for doubt.”

Felicia gently touched Kaivan’s back, her silent way of saying I’m here. Ethan and Radit exchanged a look; their wariness didn’t fade, but conviction had begun to take root.

In the thick silence, Kaivan drew out the Tome of Omnicent. A soft glow spread from its pages, painting the cracked walls and faces around them in pale light. The ink moved like liquid stars, whispering in forgotten tongues.

Felicia leaned closer. “What do you see?”

Kaivan read for a moment, then closed the book carefully. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured, eyes distant—already haunted by what he saw.

He signaled Ethan and Radit with a subtle tilt of his head—enough to say stay alert. They nodded, understanding without words.

Kaivan tucked the Tome back into his jacket. But before they could move, a man with sharp eyes and a blank face called out, “You. Follow me.”

The iron door groaned open, the sound heavy as grief. Beyond it stretched a narrow corridor, dimly lit by flickering bulbs. The air was thick and damp. Kaivan stepped forward first, silent but steady. Felicia, Ethan, and Radit followed. Their footsteps echoed—a quiet drumbeat of defiance.

“Your bags,” barked a guard built like a wall, his voice as cold as the steel door. His eyes were knives.

With no choice, they handed everything over. When Kaivan let go of the bag carrying the Tome, it felt like giving up a part of himself.

Radit leaned in, whispering, “The Tome—”

Kaivan replied softly, “I know where it is. Wait for the right moment.”

A voice called from deeper inside. They were told to follow. Their steps traced a path through a stone hallway that swallowed sound. The walls felt alive, watching. The people they passed didn’t just look—they judged.

At the end was a wide room. Rows of old chairs lined the walls, and the members of the organization stood in a circle, enclosing them. A man in his forties, his face carved from stone, stepped forward.

“State your names. Your origin. And your purpose.”

Kaivan stood tall. His gaze didn’t waver. “Kaivan, from Bandung. I seek understanding—a truth the ordinary world cannot give.”

The man said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then his eyes turned to Felicia, who sat gracefully but tense, her shoulders drawn tight like a string ready to snap.

“Felicia,” she said calmly, her voice as soft as dew upon a blade. “I stand by Kaivan. And I want to understand what he believes.”

Ethan and Radit followed, choosing their words with care, mirroring the composure of Kaivan and Felicia. Each sentence was measured, each breath deliberate—for in a place like this, even a word could become a bullet.

After a long, tense round of questioning, the leader finally raised his hand and pointed toward Felicia. “You. Come with me. The rest of you, stay here.”

Felicia glanced at Kaivan. His small nod was a lifeline in the middle of that tightening silence. Without hesitation, she turned and followed, though the air in the narrow corridor felt heavier with every step.

Radit bit his lip. “Why are they splitting us up?”

“One of their higher-ups seems interested in her,” Kaivan murmured, his tone steady but cold. “We stay calm. No sudden moves. Don’t give them a reason to doubt us.”

Felicia walked down the dim corridor, its faint light flickering against the damp walls. The air was thick, whispering secrets she couldn’t quite grasp. When she reached a small room bathed in dull yellow light, she sat upright, her posture calm—like a shadow untouched by fear.

Back in the main hall, the atmosphere felt suspended in time. Kaivan, Ethan, and Radit stood side by side, silent. From the far end, a man in a black robe emerged. His movements were smooth, his eyes cutting through them like knives.

“Prove your devotion,” he said, his voice low—like a storm holding its breath. He stopped before Kaivan, gaze sharp and unwavering. “Follow our orders. Do not question. Do not resist. Only then will you understand what true surrender means.”

Kaivan bowed his head slightly. Inside, his mind was a map of strategy. He knew—one wrong move, and it would all collapse. This was not the time for heroics. This was a game of survival.

Without a word, the man raised his hand. “Separate them. Interrogate each one alone.”

---

After being separated from Felicia, Kaivan, Ethan, and Radit were led into a cold room lit by flickering neon lights. Several young men and women stood there, faces tense, eyes wide with fear. Kaivan scanned the area—and there he saw Raphael, standing tall in the center, gaze sharp and alert.

The echo of footsteps followed them through the concrete hallways. The air was heavy, filled with the ghost of whispers. They entered a narrow, dimly lit chamber where three senior members of the organization awaited. One of them, a man with scars across his face, glared at them.

“I know you,” the man rasped. “You’re the ones who ran off through the bushes yesterday.”

Ethan clenched his jaw, fists tightening. Before anyone could react, Radit lunged forward. His kick landed squarely on the man’s face—sending him crashing to the floor, unconscious.

Another member drew a gun, but Kaivan was already moving. His body blurred like a shadow, his strike precise and silent. The man fell before he could even aim. For a moment, the room went completely still.

Radit looked at Kaivan in disbelief. “Since when were you that fast?”

Kaivan exhaled. “I don’t know. It just… feels like everyone else slowed down.”

Ethan’s eyes darted to the door. “We just made a scene. If they catch us, we’re done.”

Without replying, Kaivan pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket. He quickly sketched a layout from memory—the one implanted by the Tome Omnicent. Corridors, doors, exit routes. Every line drawn with purpose.

He handed it to Radit and Ethan.

“Wear their uniforms,” Kaivan instructed quietly. “Head to the storage room and grab whatever gear you can find. I’ll find the Tome… and Raphael. Maybe I can still reach him.”

Radit and Ethan exchanged glances, then moved fast. They stripped the unconscious men and donned their uniforms. Radit patted Ethan’s shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Time to crash their little party.”

Without another word, they disappeared into the dark corridor—their shadows flickering along the damp walls. Kaivan turned in the opposite direction, each step quiet, deliberate. His heartbeat was steady, his mind razor-sharp. Every sound, every shadow, could be a threat.

After passing through several doors and empty rooms, he entered a hall filled with uneasy youths. Their eyes were hollow, yet Kaivan’s focus was on finding one person.

“Raphael,” he whispered.

Raphael turned. Shock flashed across his face, quickly replaced by guarded caution. “Kaivan? What are you doing here?”

Kaivan stepped closer, handing him a folded note. “Read this. They’re not teachers—they’re a terrorist group. They’re brainwashing us.”

Raphael’s eyes widened as he read, his complexion paling. “Are you sure…?” he murmured.

Before Kaivan could answer, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. They hid the paper instantly. Kaivan leaned in, whispering fast, “We’ll talk later. I need to move.”

Raphael gave a quick nod. “Kaivan—your fiancée. She’s on the second floor, at the end of the hall. I’ll try to warn the others.”

In another room of the building, Felicia stood at the center of a brightly lit space, though the air around her felt heavy with tension. Her delicate hands trembled slightly as she held a tray of drinks. She tried to keep her expression blank, even as unease coursed through her heart like a rushing river.

Before her sat Yusra—the head of the organization—lounging on a large chair with a repulsive gaze. His eyes wandered over Felicia’s body in a way that made her feel like an object.

“How old are you… fifteen?” Yusra’s deep voice sent a chill down her spine. “But your body… your face… they’re extraordinary. You don’t look like an ordinary high school girl.”

Felicia only gave a small nod, forcing herself not to flinch. Her hands shook as she began to massage his shoulders, trying to distract herself from the nausea twisting inside. “Ah… I’m really not that pretty,” she said softly, her tone flat, hiding the fear that clung behind her calm facade.

Inside, she kept praying for strength—to endure, just a little longer. But she knew time was running out. Somehow, she had to find a way to escape this place.

Kaivan moved swiftly down the cold corridor, swallowed by the shadows that clung to the walls like a cloak of night. The chill of the karambit hidden in his boot reminded him—he was never truly unarmed.

Two guards appeared at the end of the hallway. Kaivan stopped, voice steady, trying to sound harmless. “Sorry, I was just looking for the restroom.”

“Shoot him!”

Time slowed. The first bullet tore through the air, but Kaivan had already moved. The chain of his karambit swung out, deflecting the shot with a sharp metallic ring. In a single motion, the blade coiled around the first guard’s neck—one pull—and the body collapsed.

The second guard raised his weapon, but Kaivan was already mid-air. His knee slammed into the man’s face, sending him crashing against the wall, unconscious. Kaivan’s breath came heavy, yet his pace never faltered. His shadow melted back into the dark.

He moved like a whisper of war, each step humming with quiet resolve. In his mind, routes and contingencies twisted together—escape, survive, or die. Sweat traced down his temple, but his will hardened.

The door at the end of the corridor drew closer. His fingers brushed the karambit’s hilt. Footsteps echoed. Kaivan froze. His breath stilled. The pounding of his heart sounded like a war drum. Pressing against the wall, he counted the rhythm of the enemy’s steps. In the stillness, he became shadow—and shadows never flinch.

When the footsteps faded, Kaivan resumed his silent march. The quiet stretched long, filled only with the rasp of his breath and the faint whisper of his steps. Every movement was measured, every second lived through his pulse. There was no space for doubt. In his head, a single thought rang on: Keep moving. Don’t stop.

Elsewhere, Radit and Ethan advanced through the darkness. Enemy uniforms clung to their bodies, granting them a fragile disguise. The corridors twisted like a labyrinth, reeking of metal and chemicals. Their eyes darted, scanning every corner.

“It’s like a maze…” Ethan whispered, breath trembling.

Radit nodded grimly. “Focus. Find Felicia. Get the package. Then disappear.”

They reached a metal door marked Food Storage. Its handle was cold, its surface rusted. Ethan inhaled slowly, then turned the knob. The door creaked open—and the world froze for a heartbeat.

Rows of shelves stretched before them. Not food—but death. Explosives, unknown liquids, canisters marked with codes of destruction. A sharp chemical stench clawed at their noses.

Radit stepped closer, tracing a label with his gloved hand. “These… could explode?”

Ethan’s voice faltered. “I only know the cartoon kind of bomb—the ones with fuses. But these… look different.”

Tension thickened the air. Their breaths formed pale clouds. Radit clenched his fist.

“We need to move fast. I’m sure Kaivan will find Raphael. But right now, we find Felicia—and get out.”

---

In a brightly lit room thick with a nauseating air, Felicia stood holding a tray of drinks. Her hands trembled slightly, but her face stayed composed—a mask of calm in the midst of a storm. Yusra, a large man with eyes like a hungry rat, watched her as though she were prey.

“Hey, pretty girl. That friend of yours… how did he get a book like the Chairman’s?” Yusra’s coarse voice cut through the silence. His hand began to reach forward, undoing the buttons of her shirt.

Felicia fought the wave of disgust rising from her chest to her throat. Her gaze fixed coldly on the Tome Omnicent resting on the desk. “I don’t know what book you’re talking about,” she said, her voice steady but icy.

A crooked smile twisted Yusra’s lips. “Don’t be shy. I can make your life easier. How about I marry you?” He rose to his feet, his movements slow, deliberate. One by one, the buttons came undone—not his own, but Felicia’s.

“Even if your chest is small… your body is still beautiful. Every woman is, to me.”

Something inside Felicia finally cracked. The silent restraint she had clung to shattered in a single moment. Her hand flew before thought could stop it—striking his face with a sharp, echoing slap.

Crack!

Yusra staggered back, eyes wide in shock. Felicia didn’t give him time to recover. Her kick drove deep into his stomach, slamming him into the table. Papers and books scattered across the floor.

“You filthy pig!” she screamed.

She advanced again. Fists and fury collided with flesh, every blow a release of all the fear, disgust, and humiliation she had been forced to swallow. Her knuckles throbbed, but her spirit burned bright.

Not far from there, Kaivan dashed through the dim corridors. His breath came in short bursts, but his resolve never faltered. In the distance, a sharp crash echoed through the hall—followed by a voice he instantly recognized.

He pushed harder, feet pounding against the cold floor until he reached a large door. The noise grew clearer—a struggle, a shout, and then silence.

With one swift kick, Kaivan broke the door open.

The sight before him froze him in place.

Felicia stood in the middle of the brightly lit room, chest heaving, hair tousled, her expression blazing with fury. At her feet, Yusra lay sprawled on the ground, bruised and barely conscious.

“You filthy pig!” Felicia shouted, fists still trembling. “If Kaivan were the one opening my shirt, I might not complain—but YOU?! How dare you!”

Silence followed. Only Felicia’s ragged breaths and Kaivan’s pounding heartbeat filled the air.

Kaivan blinked, caught completely off guard. His mouth hung half open, one eyebrow twitching upward as if trying to flee his own face.

Felicia turned—and froze when she saw him standing in the doorway like a statue. Their eyes met. The fire in her expression quickly melted into embarrassment, her cheeks turning crimson.

“K-Kaivan!? S-since when were you there?!”

Kaivan swallowed hard. “Uh... just now? Maybe? Or... right before you mentioned the, uh... shirt part?” His voice cracked awkwardly.

Felicia spun around, covering her face with the tray she was still somehow holding. “Hyaaah! I-It’s not what it sounded like! I mean—it was, but it wasn’t—ugh!” Her voice broke into a mix of mortified panic and frustration at herself.

Kaivan scratched the back of his head, trying to act normal. “R-right... Let’s just pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

“But you did hear it!”

“Yeah... but I can pretend I forgot?”

Felicia groaned, punching the wall softly before turning away again. Her hair fell messily over her face, hiding her expression—though a faint blush still lingered. “Fine... even if you remember, I won’t get mad. Just... don’t tell Radit.”

“Got it. Promise. Not a word... uh, wait—you might want to fix your, um... the shirt. It’s kinda... red showing.”

Felicia blinked, glancing down. “Ah, a button came loose, huh?” she said casually, rebuttoning her blouse like nothing happened.

Then, as if the awkwardness had never existed, she gestured toward a nearby table. “Anyway, the Tome Omnicent. It’s here.”

Kaivan’s eyes widened. He stepped closer, reaching for the book like it was salvation itself. The wooden cover was ancient, yet warm to the touch. As he opened it, glowing letters rose from the pages, their light washing over both of them.

A serene radiance filled the room—soft and almost sacred. But the moment of calm didn’t last.

From beyond the door, hurried footsteps echoed closer.

Radit and Ethan appeared in the hallway, breathless and tense.

Ethan pushed the door open. “Kaivan, we—”“Shh!” Radit yanked him back, eyes sharp with alarm.

CRASH!A chair flew past them and smashed against the wall, splinters scattering across the floor. Ethan froze, knees weak.

Inside, Felicia stood panting, eyes fierce and locked on the doorway. Her clothes were half-buttoned, her cheeks flushed—but her gaze never wavered.“Ever heard of knocking? I was changing!”

Ethan stepped back slowly, face pale. Radit patted his shoulder.“Now do you get why I said not to worry about her?”

Light from the Tome of Omnicent brushed across Kaivan’s face, casting steady shadows beneath his eyes. “Stay focused,” he said, calm and firm. “Time’s running out.”

Suddenly, the pages of the Tome began to tremble. Words of light appeared, forming one by one:

“The danger is escalating. Detonate all explosives. Destroy the building. Escape as it collapses—but keep looking back.”

Kaivan read the line aloud, then lifted his gaze. “This isn’t a choice. It’s an order. We have to follow it.”

Silence filled the room. Radit tightened his grip on his weapon. Ethan swallowed hard. Felicia stood beside Kaivan—no longer shy, her eyes glowing with resolve.

“I know where the explosives are,” Radit said. “Storage room, near the stairwell.”

Ethan shifted uneasily. “This is insane... it’s suicide.”

Kaivan looked down at the map spread on the table, then back up. “If we follow the Tome, we’ll survive.”

Felicia stepped forward. “Then let’s finish this. Once and for all.”

Radit raised his phone, snapping a quick photo of the glowing instructions. “Got it.”

“Radit, Felicia, Ethan—head to the storage room and set everything up,” Kaivan ordered. “I’ll find Raphael. Make sure the exit’s clear when the blast hits.”

The three of them hurried out, footsteps echoing down the corridor. Kaivan watched them go for a moment, then drew a long breath. He knew this mission wasn’t just dangerous—it would decide everything.

---

In the dim, narrow corridor, Kaivan moved cautiously. The cold concrete walls pressed close on either side, while the flickering neon light cast restless shadows that seemed to taunt him. Only one name echoed in his mind—Raphael.

Meanwhile, Radit, Felicia, and Ethan reached the storage hall. A rusted iron door loomed before them like a silent sentinel. Radit twisted the knob carefully to avoid noise. As the door creaked open, rows of explosive crates greeted them.

"Here it is," Radit whispered, quickly prying one open to check the contents. He studied the instructions glowing on his phone screen. Felicia stood by the entrance, her sharp gaze sweeping every corner. Ethan, his hands trembling slightly, helped connect the detonator, checking the red and blue wires.

"Make sure that connection’s right," Ethan murmured nervously.

"Relax. I know what I’m doing," Radit replied, his fingers deft and focused.

Felicia tensed suddenly. Her instincts flared.

"Hurry. Time’s running out."

In the shadowed main hall, Raphael stood at the center of a silent crowd. His voice was calm, yet carried undeniable authority. The eyes of the young recruits were empty—hollow vessels drained of will.

Kaivan slipped inside, his steps soundless. But Raphael turned, as if sensing his presence, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Kaivan. I didn’t think you’d come back."

"We have to leave. They’re using you. I have proof—this isn’t training. It’s terrorism."

A heavy silence fell. Raphael studied Kaivan quietly, then exhaled softly.

"Then I’ll go with you."

In the stifling, dimly lit storage room, Radit, Felicia, and Ethan worked in tense silence. Sweat dripped down Radit's face as he pieced together wires and small circuits, following the glowing instructions from the Tome Omnicent on his phone. Felicia stood by the door, her body rigid, eyes scanning for danger. Ethan’s hands trembled, but he continued to assist—one cable at a time.

“Done,” Radit whispered, wiping the sweat from his brow. But before relief could settle in, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Felicia reacted instantly. The iron rod in her grip swung up, her body tensed yet controlled. Radit and Ethan froze, their eyes communicating the same word: danger.

The door creaked open. A man with a gun stepped inside. But Felicia was faster. In one swift motion, her rod struck his neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the air as the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “You... you’re fast.”

“We have to move. I’m worried about Kaivan,” Felicia replied, her tone calm but firm.

Radit grabbed the bag of assembled explosives. “Let’s go,” he said, leading them out. Three shadows slipped into the dark corridor, heading toward their target—the heart of the building.

Meanwhile, Kaivan and Raphael moved through a narrow passage. Kaivan’s eyes swept the dim walls, alert for movement. Raphael followed behind him, silent but uneasy.

Then, Raphael stopped. A thin smile appeared on his lips, his gaze turning cold. A glint of metal flashed from under his coat.

“Kaivan,” he whispered.

Before Kaivan could react, the blade pierced his side. Blood spilled, dark and warm. Kaivan staggered back, eyes wide in shock.

“Raphael... what are you doing?” His voice trembled, confusion and pain mingling.

Raphael’s expression hardened with resentment. “You always interfere. Always the hero. Always ruining everything I’ve worked for. I’m sick of it.”

Kaivan fell to one knee, blood pooling beneath him, but his grip on the Tome Omnicent remained unshaken. “I was trying to save everyone—to stop this madness.”