Chapter 9: "Turmoil in Serenity" - MCKK's Stormy Waters

Dear Journal…

I can't believe I'm stuck in MCKK, a school that's more like a battleground than a place of learning. And to make matters worse, I've been dragged into the martial arts program.

Taekwondo and karate, because apparently, I don't have enough scars already.

Two coaches, who seem to think they're drill sergeants, are breathing down my neck. "Join the team, Alex. We need your skills." Skills? I've got skills, all right. I can fight, but I'd rather not.

But something about this place, MCKK, feels off. Like a powder keg waiting to explode. And I'm stuck right in the middle of it.

Time to put on my game face and play nice...for now. But trust me, journal, I'm not going down without a fight.

"Yeah, right! More like they're trying to torture me...or themselves!”

"Fine...I'm ready..." I say, eyeing the horde of students, who look like they're ready to devour me whole. I'm expecting a one-on-one battle, but nope!

"LET'S GET 'EM!!!!" they chant, charging at me like a pack of wild animals on caffeine.

"WHAT THE...?! HEY! ONE BY ONE, PLEASE! I'M NOT A PUNCHING BAG!" I yell, trying to maintain some semblance of order.

This isn't training, it's a freakin' free-for-all! They're still riding the high of that recent commotion, and I'm the punching bag!

I dodge and weave, countering their attacks with my CQC skills, but it's like trying to hold back a tsunami. I'm getting annoyed, but I need to keep my cool...after all, I don't want to hurt them (too much).

Their punches are like pesky mosquito bites - annoying, but not exactly painful. But seriously, can't they see I'm trying not to hurt them?!

"But this is also an indirect training for me," I think to myself, a sly grin spreading across my face.

I focus on the horde, my eyes scanning the crowd like a predator sizing up its prey. I spot my first target, a burly student with a cocky grin. I dart towards him, my movements lightning-fast. I grab his arm, twist it, and take him down with a swift takedown. The crowd gasps, but I'm already moving on to the next one.

The next student charges at me with a loud battle cry, but I'm ready. I sidestep his attack and deliver a quick kick to his stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. The crowd "oohs" in unison.

I take down student after student, each one falling like a domino. I'm in the zone, my movements fluid and precise. I'm a one-man takedown machine!

But as the numbers start to dwindle, I realize I've taken down almost 20 of them. The remaining students look at me with a mix of awe and fear. The coaches stare at me, mouths agape.

"Umm...I think that's enough, Alex," one of them says, trying to hide a smile.

I stand tall, chest heaving, and grin mischievously. "Just getting started, coaches!”

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, and even the students I took down can't help but laugh and high-five me.

Rasli, the taekwondo student, and Awang, the karate student, approach me with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

"Bro...you're like Steven Seagal or Van Damme cool!" Rasli exclaims, eyes wide with admiration.

Awang chimes in, "If what my dad said about you is true, then...you're a force to be reckoned with!”

Just as I'm basking in the praise, a familiar voice behind me sends a surge of mixed emotions.

"Still sloppy as usual..." Soro's voice drips with disdain, his eyes flashing with a mix of disappointment and challenge.

With a sudden burst of speed, we clash in a flurry of kicks and punches. Soro's lightning-fast kicks meet my swift fists, each blow landing with precision and power. The air is electric with tension as we exchange hits, neither backing down.

I grit my teeth, my heart racing with anticipation. Soro's words fuel my determination, and I unleash a fierce counterattack. Our movements are a blur, each strike aimed at finding an opening in the other's defense.

The crowd holds its collective breath, mesmerized by the intense battle unfolding before them. Rasli and Awang watch with wide eyes, their faces set in tense grins.

"Anything else I should know?" I grit out, our fists clashing in mid-air.

Soro sneers, his eyes glinting with sarcasm. "Like I said, training is everywhere - but you're still sloppy. Can't even land a decent hit.”

His words ignite a fire within me, and I unleash a flurry of punches and kicks. Soro counters with ease, his movements a blur as he switches between martial arts styles with fluid precision.

Our sparring intensifies, each exchange more brutal than the last. We're a whirlwind of fists, feet, and sweat, our breathing heavy and labored.

"Too much motion!" Soro snaps, dodging my wild swing. "Make it precise, not dramatic!"

I snarl, my anger boiling over. But I force myself to focus, to channel my rage into a more calculated attack. My fists fly in a deadly rhythm, each strike aimed at Soro's vulnerable points.

The air is electric with tension as we clash, our movements a dance of death. Soro's eyes narrow, his gaze locked on mine. "Better," he growls. "But still not enough."

The air was electric as Soro and I clashed in a whirlwind of fists and feet. Our spar was mesmerizing to the onlookers, but for me, it was an intense battle of focus and skill.

Just as we reached the climax, a voice boomed from the sidelines, "Enough, both of you!" I turned to see Maruk, his eyes stern with a hint of surprise.

As Soro and I parted ways, he whispered, "Shadow is everywhere..." - a code that sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded, and he vanished into the crowd.

The boys erupted into cheers, "Epic! Matrix-style fighting!" But I knew the truth - this was just the beginning.

As we returned to our dorms, the atmosphere was tense. The boys seemed to fear Soro, their whispers and glances speaking volumes.

Rasli leaned in, "Amirul is our head senior, show some respect." I smiled sarcastically, "Got it, Senior.”

Soro reappeared, his eyes piercing. "Balance is key here. Keep it clean, keep it tight. Welcome, Alex.”

I nodded, still wary of his true intentions. Was this Soro's real face, or just another mask?

Life in our dorm was surprisingly chill, like a typical student's day, despite Soro's intimidating reputation. He blended in seamlessly, interacting with the others like a normal student - a feat in itself.

In class, Soro revealed his unexpected intellectual side, impressing everyone with his sharp insights. Who would've thought that a 16-year-old assassin, hitman, and soldier would be a bookworm too?

During lunch, I savored the delicious Malay-style mix rice with Awang, Rasli, and Qabil. We dug in with our hands, old-school style, and I felt right at home.

But what puzzled me was Soro's popularity among the boys. I asked Awang about it, and he revealed the reason: Soro had single-handedly put an end to the bullying and ragging in the senior forms, earning their respect.

I couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed that feat... probably with his fists, knowing Soro.

As I gazed at Soro, I noticed the contrast between us. His dark, Pinoy features and military buzz cut made him look like a seasoned veteran, yet his skin was scar-free. Meanwhile, I had to hide my own scars under long sleeves. Life was full of surprises, and Soro was the biggest one of all.

The peaceful class activities were a welcome respite from my chaotic school in Sabah. But I knew it was only a matter of time before my darkness stirred again.

As the school session ended, Awang invited me to join their football game, but I had other plans. I needed to tame the beast within.

I snuck away to a secluded field, where I could unleash my intensity without prying eyes. My training began with a frenzy of push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks, followed by a grueling 100-lap sprint around the track.

As the sun beat down, I spotted a massive concrete block and seized it, using it as a makeshift weight. I heaved it onto my shoulders, feeling the burn in my muscles.

Next, I turned to the nearby trees, imagining them as foes to be vanquished. I unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, the sound of cracking wood echoing through the air.

My training was a blur of sweat, blood, and determination. I was possessed by my own intensity, driven to master the darkness within.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, I knew I was far from done. The real battle was only just beginning.

"As the azhan's call to prayer echoed through the air, I excused myself to refresh my mind and body. In the bathroom, I encountered Soro, who whispered urgently, 'Don't stop now... there's another training awaiting you.' I brushed past him, careful not to reveal our familiarity.

After performing my ablutions, I made my way to the musollah, where I joined the Maghreb prayers, followed by the Isya prayers. Ustaz's lecture began, his words illuminating the pathway of light.

"'Allah is all-knowing,' he said. 'Even if one takes a life, His servant can still find forgiveness by following the righteous path. Sin is a darkness that dwells within, a result of Syaitan's deceit, as seen in the story of Adam A.S. and Eve. Yet, even in Allah's wrath, Adam sought forgiveness, demonstrating the power of repentance.’"

I approached the Ustaz, seeking guidance. "Assalamualaikum, Ustaz.”

He smiled warmly. "Walaikumusalam, child. How can I assist you?”

I poured out my concerns. "I'm torn between two paths... unsure if I should embrace my darkness or brave the path of thorns.”

The Ustaz nodded thoughtfully, inviting me to sit beside him in the musollah. "Listen, child. Prophet Muhammad S.A.W faced far greater challenges than we ever will. Reflect on the stories of all the prophets, from Adam A.S. onwards. What do you see?”

I pondered, then replied, "Their struggles... Allah S.W.T tested their loyalty through trials and ordeals, like Prophet Ibrahim's sacrifice of his son Ismail A.S.”

The Ustaz nodded, his eyes wise. "Indeed. Remember the prayer for facing ordeal ?”

He recited the Quranic verse, his voice filled with conviction:

"O Allah, I hope for Your mercy. Do not leave me to myself even for a blink of an eye. Correct all of my affairs for me. There is none worthy of worship except You.”

The Ustaz's advice was clear. "Recite this prayer, and inshallah, you'll face your trials with calm determination. You're young, strong in body and mind... remember that always. Allah watches over us, no matter where we are."

I grasped the Ustaz's hand, kissing it in reverence. "Thank you for the guidance... I needed it more than ever.”

The Ustaz smiled, his eyes wise. "Remember, child, prayer is the key to conviction. May Allah S.W.T watch over you.”

I bowed deeply and departed the musollah, only to be met by Soro's expectant gaze.

"About time, kid. Got what you needed?”

I nodded, and together we approached Mr. Haqeeb and Maruk, who awaited us with an air of anticipation.

"Welcome to the real training, Alex," Mr. Haqeeb said, his voice low and serious. "Soro will teach you tactical warfare, precision shooting, and how to take down targets without killing. Your skills will be pushed to the limit."

Soro handed me a military uniform, his eyes gleaming with intensity. "Time to get serious, kid. We have two targets: a poacher and a drug lord, both with connections to corrupt politicians. Our mission is to capture them, dead or alive.”

We ventured into the Perak jungle, the darkness swallowing us whole. Maruk's voice reassured me, "Don't worry about the school, I've got everything under control.”

Soro's voice cut through the night, "Our targets are ruthless. We'll need to be smarter, faster, and deadlier. Let's move out!"

"Rog..." I replied to Soro's voice on the radio comms, my heart racing with anticipation.

I adjusted my M4 tactical rifle, silencer attached, and night vision goggles secured. Soro's unusual close-quarters approach raised my alertness. Our camouflaged faces blended into the shadows.

"Remember, shoot only when I give the order," Soro instructed, his voice low and urgent.

"Rog..." I acknowledged, familiar with military-style communications.

We reached the rendezvous point, awaiting further instructions. Soro's radio crackled to life. "Proceed with caution... avoid detection.”

"Rog... 10-4... out..." Soro motioned for me to follow him.

We infiltrated the poachers' and drug lord's hideout, Soro whispering, "They're using protected animals to transport their cargo... and there's a clue to your case here.”

A poacher stepped away, and Soro nodded. "Take him down." I choked him unconscious, and Soro secured him. "No killing today... they need to face justice.”

A shout pierced the air. "Phan!!! Where are you?!" I stalked my prey, taking him down with a chemical-laced cloth that rendered him unconscious. We disabled and secured the targets.

Suddenly, Mr. Faruq Amin's father emerged from the shadows, flanked by Maruk's men and VAT 69 commandos. He signaled me to continue, his eyes locked on the targets.

We infiltrated the jungle mansion, a fortress hidden from prying eyes. Heavily guarded men patrolled the perimeter, using Tapirs and deer as disguises for their illicit activities.

As I awaited Soro's signal, our squad assembled: a biologist, jungle ranger, and Mr. Faruq's men. "Wait for our cue, then engage," Mr. Faruq whispered.

We crept inside, Soro taking down the first guard with a swift knife strike, rendering him unconscious. We armed ourselves with knives, Soro instructing me to hold back on using my sidearm.

"They're linked to the Brotherhood and our family's left-wing faction," Soro revealed, his voice low and urgent. The Shariful Ahmad family's involvement with criminal and terrorist organizations sent a chill down my spine.

We took down two more guards with precision, Soro counting down, "Three... two... one..."

Inside the mansion, Soro motioned for me to listen in on the conversation through the thin wall.

"Is the package ready?”

"Yes, but why do they need that body?”

"Shut up, we're paid enough. They're a dangerous bunch."

"Right, boss... but what about the cops?" a nervous voice asked.

"Already taken care of," the boss replied, his tone dripping with confidence. "We've got the local politician in our pocket. He's made sure the police will turn a blind eye to our operations.”

A third voice emerged, familiar yet menacing. "Excellent. With this setup, our organization will make this place a strategic hub for our... ventures. A secure location for our business interests.”

Soro's voice cut through the tension, his eyes locked onto mine. "Looks like everything's falling into place. Are you ready to capture that clone?”

"Rog, I'm ready," I replied, my voice firm and resolute.

Soro signaled, and I readied my smoke grenade while he primed a flashbang. With a nod, Soro slowly opened the door, and we deployed our grenades in tandem. The room erupted into chaos - a blinding flash, followed by a thick smoke screen.

We burst in, taking advantage of the disorientation. I swiftly subdued the clone, who struggled feebly, while Soro took down the others with precision.

The squad's voices echoed through the hallways, "POLICE!!! HANDS UP!!!" The air was filled with the sound of weapons firing, and Soro's calm instruction, "Use your silencer, one bullet at a time, got it?”

We methodically disabled our targets, avoiding lethal shots. The operation unfolded with clockwork precision, our training and teamwork yielding an instant success. The raid was a resounding victory, executed without a hitch.

As the storm subsided, we scoured the area for clues related to my case - the truth about my past, my connection to Frederica, and the enigmatic Lilith. But the clone had other plans.

With a sudden, desperate move, she crushed a cyanide capsule between her teeth, her eyes widening in a final, defiant glance. A single word escaped her lips: "Sister..." The same haunting term that had surfaced before, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Soro's swift reflexes allowed him to seize a cryptic document from the clone's grasp. The contents stunned us - a black market sales record for the clone, with a buyer known only as "Fraternitas Mason" - the Brotherhood of Mason. The revelation hung in the air like a challenge, beckoning us deeper into the heart of the conspiracy.

Soro's piercing gaze met mine, his voice laced with a mix of criticism and teasing. "Your movements are improving, but still sloppy." I knew I had a long way to go to match his skills.

Mr. Habeeb and Maruk approached us, their expressions serious. "No luck again, but at least we apprehended them," Mr. Habeeb said, his eyes hinting at a larger plan. "This politician will face another scandal.”

Maruk praised us, "Good job, everyone. Soro, Alex, your teamwork is improving." I nodded, still processing the events.

Soro's report was grim. "They won't go down without a fight. We need to capture them without a hitch." Maruk added, "This is the fifth clone we've tried to capture. They always seem to have those pills.”

Suddenly, my vision blurred, and I felt a strange sensation, like a flash of light. When my eyes refocused, I found myself in a medieval-style house, face to face with Lilith.

"Sister, take this food," she said in Old French, offering me a bowl of soup. I took it, and as I ate, a mysterious girl's voice whispered in my mind.

"Sis, this place is cursed. We need to leave," she warned, her voice laced with urgency. Lilith replied, "Since Joan of Arc's execution, we've been branded as witches. We must avoid people.”

My vision shifted again, and I found myself in a bustling Italian town, wearing a robe and hood. The familiar scenery and era-specific clothing disoriented me.

Soro's firm grip shook me awake, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Looks like you've experienced this before, right?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

Memories flooded back - the clone in LA, the vision of Joan of Arc's execution, and the enigmatic Lilith. I struggled to speak, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Ugh...yeah...what happened?" I asked, my mind racing.

Mr. Habeeb's expression was grim. "You fainted and mumbled about Lilith." Maruk's eyes narrowed, "You need to ask the right person about this. Maybe Hawk can help…"

Mr. Habeeb's phone call connected us to Hawk, his voice laced with a hint of reluctance. "I'm Hawk...anything I can assist with…"

Commissioner Habeeb's voice was firm. "I need to ask about Alex. He's with us, listening to our conversation.”

Hawk's tone shifted to concern. "Is there something wrong with Alex?”

Mr. Habeeb reassured him, "Not at all. But Alex needs answers. Do you know about Lilith?”

Hawk's pause was palpable before he replied, "Yes...it's something I'd rather not discuss.”

Mr. Habeeb pressed on, "Then let's talk about the incident. Hawk, you know something.”

Hawk's voice dropped to a whisper, "Yes...I know. Alex seems to be awakening...or something. But I still need to find clues. Lilith...she's not just anyone. Your research, Commissioner, must have shown you that."

Hawk's voice was laced with a mix of concern and intrigue. "Yes, I know... Alex seems to be awakening... or something. But I still need to find clues. Lilith... she's the person I was involved with.”

Mr. Habeeb's expression turned grave. "I was part of the 80's raid. That explains everything.”

Hawk's tone shifted to urgency. "Alex, listen! Your mother isn't telling me or Nat everything. But Nat discovered something - Lilith is almost immortal, with records dating back to medieval times.”

The room fell silent, shocked by the revelation. Soro interrupted, his voice firm. "Then the clone is…?"

Hawk's response was grim. "Yes, the DNA of Lilith. I was forced into a super soldier program, involving assassination and espionage during the Cold War. But I quit, along with your uncle Usman.”

Maruk's eyes widened, his voice laced with alarm. "This is bigger than we thought. The US government and INTERPOL are involved. We need to figure it out before something terrible happens.”

Hawk added, his voice low, "Lilith is also a Knight Templar, which is impossible. And the multiple assassinations during the Cold War... it's all connected to her.”

Maruk's frustration boiled over. "Damn it, another round of secrets!”

Mr. Habeeb's voice was calm, but firm. "That's all we need to know. Hawk, would you like to talk to Alex personally?”

Hawk's voice was warm, but urgent. "Kid, remember what I told you - believe in yourself.

Don't lose it. Nat misses you, and she's doing great... okay, Cheveyo?"

"Got it..." I replied, as Mr. Habeeb ended the call. "Let's wrap up and head home," he said, his eyes hinting at a long night.

I changed into my school uniform, alongside Soro and Maruk, our movements swift and silent. The hostel loomed before us, its occupants slumbering, oblivious to the secrets we kept.

Soro's voice was low, his words laced with a hint of warning. "We'll continue again, standby and keep training..." I nodded, my mind racing with questions.

As I lay on my bunk bed, staring at the ceiling, a feeling crept over me - someone was calling, watching me. I stood up, my heart pounding, and headed outside.

On the rooftop, a figure crouched, her red hair a fiery halo in the moonlight. Her special ops gear seemed to blend with the shadows, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity.

"We meet again, sister..." she whispered, her voice like a knife's edge.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool. "What do you mean, sister?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She sprang towards me, her agility unnerving, like a ninja. "You smell like one of us..." she hissed, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

I knew I faced someone extremely dangerous, someone who could be my ally or my enemy. Soro's words echoed in my mind - "standby and keep training..." I was ready for whatever came next.

She leaned in, her voice dripping with malice. "Why did you side with them...?" I knew one wrong move would seal my fate.

I attempted to deflect with a rhetorical question. "Then why are you trying to kill me?”

Her knife flashed in the dim light, pressed against my throat. "Perhaps...you're one of us.

But you resist, don't you?" Her words were laced with an unsettling ambiguity.

I struggled to comprehend. "What do you mean?”

She whispered, her breath cold against my ear. "Your shell...this body...it's not entirely yours." A shiver ran down my spine as Frederica's voice echoed in my mind.

"Don't believe them...they're dangerous…"

I steeled myself, trying to sound convincing. "I am myself...this body is mine, forged by history and experience.”

Her eyes gleamed with an unnatural yellow light, piercing through me. "Sister...I'll free you, mark my words..." With a swift motion, she vanished, leaving me gasping.

As I turned, Soro emerged from the shadows, a knowing glint in his eye. "Looks like this is getting interesting...good job. She sensed me, that's why..."

"Tell me...why?" I pressed Soro, my curiosity burning brighter than ever.

He gazed up, his eyes clouding over like a stormy sky. "I was born under the mark of the hunter...when the three stars shine brightest." Orion's belt, I realized, a shiver running down my spine.

His voice dropped to a whisper, as if sharing a dark secret. "I was only 7 when my parents died in the Philippine civil war. Maruk took me in, trained me...told me I was special. My body possesses something no one else has.”

Soro's eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in memories. "The clones, the red-haired lady...I've encountered her before. She called me 'hunter'...said we never had a chance to see daylight, neither of us could claim victory.”

I sensed a deeper connection between Soro and the mysterious lady.

He continued, his voice laced with a hint of danger. "Maruk's job was to create more like me...but the brotherhood wanted Lilith's blood, her ability. They see me as a threat...and I always sense danger before it strikes. Maruk taught me to use it as my greatest asset.”

I stared at Soro, awestruck. He was a real-life superhero, shrouded in mystery and danger.

Soro's voice dropped to a whisper, his words dripping with intensity. "When Maruk discovered your father, his cousin, had a son bearing the same mark as me...he sought out your uncle, inquiring about the sign. Maruk proposed that you could lead the family, but your uncle refused, wanting a normal life for you. Maruk respected his choice...until your awakening. Then, your uncle had no choice but to comply.”

I gazed down, my voice barely above a whisper. "All I wanted was to travel, see the world, meet people...not get entangled in this darkness.”

Soro's grip on my shoulder tightened. "One day, you'll face a choice that only you can make. I chose this path long ago...but you're still in the twilight zone. Choose decisively." With that, he released me and returned to his bed, leaving me to ponder the weight of my history under the dark night skies.

"Fuck...it's really that simple," I thought, my mind racing. "I just wanted to go back in time, be oblivious to all this, and continue my carefree life...but fate has other plans.”