Reina's body hit the ground—soft and damp. Not hard, but enough to churn her stomach and squeeze the air from her lungs. She coughed faintly, trying to rise on trembling hands. The scent of earth invaded her nose—yet it wasn’t the soil she knew. It was deeper… older… like the scent of a world long asleep.
Silence cloaked the place. No crickets. No night birds. Only a faint ringing sound, like metal brushing metal from far away—delicate, spiraling, like an incantation.
Reina pushed herself up slowly. Around her, the trees stood tall, their trunks shimmering like black crystal. Their leaves glowed faintly, cascading to the ground like veils gently swaying without wind. Above, the sky was a perpetual amber, and two moons—one large, one small—hung in the silent sky like watchers.
“Adit!” she called, her voice hoarse. She staggered forward, stumbling over a twisted root like a sleeping serpent.
No answer. No footprints. She was completely alone.
Panic bloomed. Her breath grew short. This wasn’t the Kalimantan jungle. This wasn’t Earth. Or at least, not any part of Earth she knew. This world felt like a merging of dreams and something that should never exist.
She stopped abruptly.
Something cold, sharp, and heavy touched her neck. Instantly, her blood turned to ice.
Reina turned her head slowly, her body stiff. The tip of a large sword—etched with foreign symbols—hovered just beside her throat. Behind her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in gleaming black armor, his dark green eyes glowing faintly in the shadows.
“Who are you?” His voice was deep, flat, yet sharp as steel. “Which foreign realm do you hail from?”
Reina swallowed. “Re-researcher… I’m a researcher. I’m from Tenggarong… East Kalimantan… Indonesia,” she stammered, trying to sound sane.
The tip of the sword shifted slightly, grazing the skin beneath her chin. Pain. Warmth. A thin line of blood trickled down.
The man narrowed his eyes. His gaze sharpened, as if piercing into her mind.
“Not of Swantara… Are you of Arunika?”
Reina shook her head. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she whispered. She truly didn’t. The words were alien. But the tone—laden with suspicion… and threat.
The man didn’t back down. He stepped closer, as if to confirm something.
“I’m just a normal human! What are you talking about?! And what’s with pointing weapons at people?! You think this is some medieval war movie?! Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the police?! You lunatic!”
Reina’s burst of furious words didn’t faze the man in the slightest. His eyes remained locked on hers, unblinking. Cold. Unmoved.
She took a step back, instinctively withdrawing, her breath catching. She tried to steady herself, inhale deeply, calm the panic rising through her spine—but before she could think further, he moved.
With unnerving speed, the armored man seized both of her wrists and bound them in one hand. Not with rope. Not with chains.
But with glowing golden cords—translucent, warm, like living molten glass. They wrapped tightly around Reina’s wrists, firm and cold, adjusting to her every movement. The more she struggled, the tighter they clung—almost like they understood her resistance.
“What is this?!” Reina hissed, panicked. “Let me go!”
But the man stepped closer, so near she could smell damp leaves and iron from his armor. His eyes locked onto hers—piercing, controlled.
“Be silent and follow me,” he said calmly—his voice somehow clearer now, yet Reina still knew it wasn’t a language she had ever heard.
Still, she understood it. Somehow the words bypassed her ears and entered directly into her mind, like a whisper planted deep in her thoughts.
Reina froze.
She knew she should resist. She should scream, fight—anything. But there was something in his voice. Something that weakened her knees and blurred her thoughts—not out of fear, but pressure… like a haze settling in her mind.
Unconsciously, her steps followed. Each gentle tug of the glowing cord seemed to whisper a command. Like magic crawling through her bones.
Reina tried to refocus, to think clearly. Where was Adit? How could she escape? But the forest answered only with silence. The amber sky still loomed overhead, and the twin moons watched every step they took in quiet judgment.
They walked through the forest—Reina and the stranger—in silence thick with tension.
Each step was painful. Reina’s wounds reopened, especially on her legs, leaving faint trails of blood on the moist earth. The air was oddly clean, yet filled with something unseen. A vibration, a hum—subtle, but it made her skin crawl.
She winced, her foot pressing on a root, and let out a faint sound. Strangely, the man ahead slowed his pace—only slightly, but enough to match her limping gait. As if… he noticed.
“Your name?” he asked, his voice direct.
“What?” Reina looked up, caught off guard. Her mind was still hazy. His voice snapped her awareness back, making her flinch.
He exhaled, a hint of irritation, and repeated the question—lower this time, but no warmer.
“Reina,” she replied quickly. “My name is Reina.”
Not long after answering, she gathered courage. “Since I’ve told you, now it’s my turn. What’s your name? And where… where exactly is this place?”
But the man didn’t answer. His lips stayed sealed like carved stone, his gaze fixed ahead. Not just cold—but guarded.
Reina clicked her tongue quietly. Annoyed, but aware. She was no one here. Maybe… not even part of this world.
No more words were exchanged. Only the sound of their steps on wet earth and leaves. The air felt even quieter, and the amber sky above hadn’t changed at all, as if time moved differently here.
Then—through the trees—appeared the silhouette of structures. Or rather… a base.
Reina squinted. It looked like an ancient military outpost: buildings made of dark wood and stone, rising in a half-circle formation. Torches burned along barbed fences. At the front gate, two guards stood tall, their armor glinting like living metal.
But what stunned Reina was the reaction of the soldiers. As the man approached the gate, both guards saluted instantly—fists to their chests, heads bowed in solemn respect.
Reina turned to the man, her brows furrowed.
Who is he?
Deeper inside the compound, several large tents stood atop the highland, made from beast hides and dark wooden poles. Around them, torches flickered. Dozens of armored figures moved about, carrying spears, swords, and firewood. Some sharpened weapons. Some gathered around fires. Others skinned strange prey.
Reina grimaced. One creature resembled a deer—but with long fangs and sharp claws—now being butchered in the middle of the camp. Its flesh steamed. Its blood was still warm.
“You gonna roast me next like that thing?” Reina muttered to herself, barely audible.
The man turned slightly. His green eyes gleamed coldly. “Tempting idea,” he replied flatly.
Reina recoiled. Her breath hitched. Her heart thundered. She took a step back, stunned.
“Oh, hell no…” she muttered, fear and anger clashing in her voice.
Some soldiers around them chuckled. Low, mocking laughter. Their eyes stabbed like unseen arrows. Reina lowered her gaze—humiliated, furious, and trapped in a nightmare kingdom.
From one of the tents, a man in a dark blue robe with a silver belt and a crossed-circle emblem on his chest strode toward them. He looked younger, but his eyes were sharp and alert. Upon seeing the armored man escorting Reina, he immediately stood straight, bowing respectfully.
“Commander Bhirendra. We didn’t expect your return so soon.”
Reina froze.
Commander?
She slowly turned to the man beside her.
So… he wasn’t just a soldier. Not just a guard. But a military leader?
Bhirendra. The name echoed in her mind—strange and unforgettable.
The exchange between Bhirendra and the robed man was brief but serious. Occasionally, their eyes glanced at Reina—judging. Debating. Deciding.
She stood still, trying to piece together the bizarre fragments in her mind. This world was too vivid to be a dream. Too strange to be Earth. Too… silent, yet not empty.
Her thoughts spun. Her head grew heavy. Her vision blurred. The crackle of fire, soldiers’ whispers, clinking metal… all faded into distant echoes.
“Reina…”
A voice called her. Deep. Resonant. She didn’t know whose. But she couldn’t answer. Her legs gave out.
Darkness. She collapsed. Her breath faltered. The world dimmed.
But before unconsciousness claimed her, Reina saw one last thing—the unchanging amber sky, and two moons hovering above like ancient eyes…
Watching her in silence.