This is a Crazy Chapter

The horizon was awash with shadows. It wasn’t a metaphor; it was a literal, heart-stopping sea of darkness, waves after waves lapping closer. It felt like we were standing at the edge of a vast ocean during a stormy night, except the waves weren’t made of water, but of pure, palpable malice.

The murmurs of the warriors turned into panicked shouts. As the first of the shadows reached our line of defense, they behaved in ways no shadow should. They rose, formed tendrils, and struck, fast as a whip.

One villager, a robust man known for his arm-wrestling victories, was the first to react. He lunged at the shadow with his axe, but it simply consumed him, enveloping him before pulling him into the ground. No trace remained. This wasn't like Bhrol's fall into the pit of shadows, where we had a moment to react and pull him back. This was instant.

A collective gasp went around. “Don’t let them touch you!” Orym bellowed, brandishing his weapon. But his warning was a bit late. More tendrils snaked out, snagging warriors and villagers alike, each being pulled down, leaving no mark of their presence behind.

The younger warriors, like Brendan, darted around frantically, trying to dodge the tendrils. But the older, more experienced ones stood their ground, swinging their weapons with conviction. But each slash and thrust went right through, as if the shadows were mere illusions. It was a dance of death, and a single misstep meant oblivion.

“Stand close!” Master Thoren shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. Rapidly reciting an incantation, a brilliant light burst from his hands, aiming to repel the encroaching shadows. Yet despite the radiance of his spell, the shadows remained undeterred, crashing against Thoren’s protective barrier like an unyielding tide.

I tried my best, drawing weapons, barriers, anything I could think of to help. But the shadows just slid around them, untouched and undeterred. You know, for a guy who draws things into existence, I sure am drawing a blank here.

Pyuan was beside me, her feline eyes wide with terror. "Nanang, what do we do?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She tried to claw at a tendril that approached, but it simply recoiled and struck again.

"I think we should—"

My voice trailed off, and before I could even process the change, everything around me shifted. The sights and sounds of the battlefield abruptly vanished, replaced by an engulfing abyss. As I spiraled into the void, the last thread tethering me to reality was Pyuan’s echoing scream.

—o0o—

My eyes blinked open to the familiar hum of fluorescent lights overhead. The cool touch of wood met my back, and the distinct scent of whiteboard markers and old textbooks filled the air.

I was... in a classroom?

Gone was the battlefield, the shadows, the tension. Instead, worn-out wooden desks surrounded me, students scribbling away in their notebooks. At the front of the room stood a whiteboard, covered in barely legible scrawl about the principles of drama. 

English class...?

A tap on my shoulder made me jump. Turning, my gaze met a pair of familiar eyes – Putri's. But not the healer Putri from the medieval world. This was the Putri I knew from high school, with her familiar shy smile and neatly combed hair.

"You okay?" she whispered, genuine concern evident in her eyes. "You zoned out for a second there. You remember our lines, right?"

Lines? What was she talking about? But as I looked down, I noticed a script in my hand. The title read: "Shadows of Fate." by Nanang Suranang. Skimming the pages, a chill ran down my spine. The play eerily mirrored the events I'd just experienced – a hero, a dark force consuming everything, and a fateful journey.

The murmurs of the classroom intensified, drawing me deeper into this moment. The script in my hands seemed so pressing, so vital. As the teacher signaled our group, confusion swirled within me. Why did this all feel strangely familiar? And why did the adventures and shadows seem so distant now? Putri’s concerned gaze and the upcoming performance dominated my thoughts, pushing everything else to the periphery.

My heart raced, questions whirling in my mind. Was everything just a dream?

Wait, what?

What did I dream about?

-o0o-

The room's ambiance shifted as students repositioned chairs and desks, creating a makeshift stage in the center. Two classmates, Adit and Sari, took on the roles of the menacing shadows, draping themselves in dark sheets with holes cut out for their eyes.

Putri nudged me with her elbow. "Ready?" she asked, her voice tinged with a playful challenge.

I shrugged, feigning a relaxed demeanor, "As ready as I'll ever be."

She chuckled, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Considering you wrote the script and insisted on playing the lead, you better be."

"Just doing my part," I quipped with mock seriousness, and she responded with a gentle chuckle.

Taking a deep breath, I began reciting my lines, acting out the intense scenes against the menacing shadows. But as I faced Adit and Sari, the shadows, a peculiar sensation washed over me. Despite the obvious silliness of our school production, memories of real fear began to surface. Fleeting memories of the chaos I'd just left behind.

As the scene ended, the class erupted into applause. We took our bows and, with a sigh of relief, I made my way off the makeshift stage to where Putri stood.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with admiration. "I've got to admit, that was captivating," she said, her voice brimming with awe. "That twist where all the warriors got killed? Didn't see it coming. How did you come up with that?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I just wanted to write something that would entertain me. Shock value, I guess?"

Putri laughed, her gaze briefly scanning the room before returning to me. "You've got some serious talent. Have you ever thought about drawing? Maybe creating a manga or something?"

"A manga?" I smirked, the idea suddenly appealing. "You know what? I just might."

And I think from that moment on, the thought of trying to make my own story, my own manga, never left my mind.

As the other students continued discussing their drama performances, a plane flew overhead, drowning out their conversations with its roaring engines.

Someone remarked, "Why is our school so close to the airport? It's so loud!"

I found myself responding almost instinctively, "Ah, you have no idea how it feels from the runway. Hearing it every day..."

"Wait, what do you mean?" someone else interjected.

I paused, suddenly confused by my own words. "Eh?"

How did I know about that?

—o0o—

Suddenly, an insistent tug on my arm yanked me out of the haze. I blinked, struggling to refocus. Instead of the classroom, I was back on the battlefield, surrounded by the ominous shadows that were drawing closer. The piercing roar of the plane was replaced by the haunting hiss of the encroaching darkness.

"Get up, Nanang!" Pyuan's voice was strained with urgency. She was tugging at me, her feline eyes shining with determination amidst the chaos.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the dizziness. The memories from the classroom, the script, the plane, and my conversation with Putri were all jumbled up, creating a cacophony in my head.

"P-Pyu...?" was all I could muster, "W-wait, why... am I here?" The words tumbled out.

"No time for questions!" She hissed, pulling me to my feet. "We need to run! Now!"

I didn't have the luxury of mulling over what just happened to me. With Pyuan's hand securely holding mine, we began sprinting away from the advancing shadows, my heartbeat loud in my ears, the cold grasp of fear gripping my heart.

What just happened?

My thoughts were a whirlwind, making each step feel heavier.

Pyuan's distant plea, "Stay with me, Nanang!" barely registered.

My energy drained away, every ounce slipping through my fingers.

And then, everything went black.