It is not something new, in this era, you see people die every day. Battlefield, hospital, in the office and even inside someone's house. Again, this topic is nothing new to the locals and people developed some kind of acceptance up to some degree in facing death. In fact, it is indeed a mercy and in that gift we shall be free from all mortal desires and sufferings, at least that's what Buddha would like to think about life. I have lost so much blood, I should not think of such things at this critical moment. Not sure if I should believe what Airlangga has foreseen in his dream. The kid is blessed but I myself can't verify how accurate that whisper is. However, I do believe that today is not the day I will leave this world for my duty still continues until the Dutch leave the land.

  "Ah! Could you at least announce the needle!" I yelled when a needle pierced my chest.

  "S... sorry, I- I thought you're good in... pain tolerance," yet Ratna doesn't seem to regret what happened.

  Double doors banging loudly, sending sound waves and echoes throughout the chamber. Two individuals, one blind the other chose to be blind, man and woman married to each other. If it's not the Lieutenant and his wife, I don't know who else. Both stood in front of my sick bed, 'looking' straight into my eyes.

  "I.. I suppose my job here is done..." Ratna said while picking up her stuff.

  "Stay," I said.

  "I'm sorry Ratnaningsih but this is a family matter..." the blind man politely asked the girl to leave.

  One is blind for her sight, one is blind for his heart. Ratna left without saying any words, if she couldn't break free from her antisocial symptoms she might as well become someone else's puppet. I lowered my veil, could not be more arsed since the sun hurt my eyes and head.

  "You know that this is serious, Uncle," judging from his tone he's enjoying the mockery to the fullest.

  "I couldn't care less."

  "I understand where you're coming from, but we suggest you to be more... predictable, in doing your work," small voice as always, a facade that the woman always puts whenever her husband's around. Pretty sure all of those rumours from her maids are completely true.

  "You have no right to say shit about my method. How could a blind fucking woman comments on the thing she could never witness?"

  "I was merely concerned about your safety, but you do have a fair point..."

  Shut the fuck up.

  "No need to be rude, Herjuna. My wife and I are here to mend things up,"

  "It's not death that you fear, dear soldier. You fear of something else... deep down your contract, lurking by the end of the ledger"

  "The catch of convenience, the sky of your might, hence why we're proposing you two solutions"

  "Proposing a solution to a problem that doesn't exist. How efficient..." Being cornered surely isn't as fun as cornering someone.

  Haryono goes up to the bedside table. At the end of the day it's a gun and another lead pebble, instead of six it is a singular unit rolling towards the edge but the force runs out before it's able to jump from the table. I know what it means, a denial of the deliverance that I have been seeking throughout this ironic timeline. However, it is weird that Srikandi does not inform me about whatever the hell that demon's presence meant. Something is off and rushed to the point they have to put a barrel on my forehead. Who are these guys, what do they want.

  "Or we can start by stripping down the contract?" Srikandi sure does not sound right.

  I'm in total danger.

  "I don't know about you two but have you heard about the rumour about the Secret Service?"

  "Which?" the blind woman asked.

  "The one which says that YOU TWO ARE-"

  ————

  "FUCKING TRAITORS!!!"

  "Airlangga, stop!! Before you hurt someone!"

  I opened my eyes. Dark- no, a fairly dim chamber with tons of people holding me back. Two males and two females, one woman holding a gun but blindfolded the other pushing a syringe into an IV bag. The men are holding my shoulders back, their fingers clawing into my skin in the hope of stopping any funny movements. My self, unconscious and wet. I don't remember anything before that, the memory is vague yet I know for sure I'm not in a fugue. It's calm yet it's because something is missing from the puzzle, as if I was not myself for quite a moment and then here I am. Such indignation but they went away in a single click, creating a meaningless vexation. The soft pillow softens the impact between the wall and my back as I throw my back against the concrete partition.

  "Can I... talk with Herjuna alone..." I asked.

  "Denied, unless you give me a good reason," the blindfolded lady said while keeping her gun aligned with my heart.

  "I don't trust all of you"

  "Wise. You have twenty"

  "It's all I need. Thank you," the three uninvited guests left just after I finished my sentence.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The air is quiet and so does the ward when everyone except Herjuna is dismissed from the chamber with beds. The jawless man took a huge breath before sitting on his bed. Red intravenous tube, blood flowing into his body through a needle in his chest, they moved places since the last time I saw him. But after all, it is Herjuna Bangkit, the radical man who refuses to go according to the plan. Scars, wounds, and stitches mean just another rough day in the Kantor.

  "He's lurking at the end of the tab, isn't he? " a question to mark the start of the interrogation.

  "How did you know..." he said calmly while lighting up the tobacco roll.

  "Just...-"

  "What else did you see?" he cuts before I can find the best dictions in the store.

  "Perchance... It was your doom that I saw..." half scared I tried to speak out what I had seen.

  Herjuna locks his gaze with my eyes. A violet one yet there is brown within that purple. I don't know for sure if the hammer hit the nail's head so perfectly that it sinks deeply into the wood but the sight of it surely tells me that reality could sometimes poison the heart.

  "Tell me the truth, First Sergeant..."

  "Ask and you shall know"

  "Your family, everything, from the beginning"

  "I guess the only way for you to trust me is by showing you all my cards," he said while dragging a long smoke into his lungs.

  When he exhaled the smoke, every candle in the ward turned into an ashy grey fire that consumed the surrounding light.

  "The biggest three obstacles for a man are wealth, power, and woman. As one of the most potential heirs of Pakualaman, my family owned everything, for sure they wanted more"

  But greed is solely one of God's very own clothing, no humans or other beings are entitled to such piece. Nothing is free lunch, true and people act as if any bad decisions do not come with a price. So he's one of the royalties sent to the battlefield, mostly because they are not friend with the Dutch or for some other reason like an illegitimate child. His position is surely vague, grey, and no one knows the real story except some few inner circles. Commoners would die just to taste the lavish life of the king's descendants, while the real holders struggled to meet expectations and to gain their own free will inside the palace. I have tasted my own share but juxtaposed to Herjuna obviously it was just a small cut on a skin. The jawless man's face looks bitter, trying to unveil his own past

  "The old couple resorted to dark magic, fiddled in rituals so that the cost was to be borne by me. I was born cursed, my flesh would rot by the day but heal by sunset"

  Flesh rotting? So the nightmares were about him all along?

  "My existence itself is a taboo and my parents treated me as if I were a pest"

  "So what happened that night?"

  "An assassination attempt, don't know who sent them. I just somehow killed the attacker..."

  "Then after, you killed both of your parents..."

  "Yes. Others weren't so happy about it but the oldest let me slide. There was no happy news from sending me to the gallows, in the end it was all about money"

  Herjuna stares blankly at the floor while continuously dragging the cigarette, in response to the unexplainable thing he desperately tries to get rid of. His story only sows more questions, were those nightmares designated for me or am I merely just a messenger? The whole plot seems to reveal some patterns, it's always come in a pair. Two Kings, two princes, and perhaps... two villains or traitors?

  "You were muttering something about traitors,"

  "Do you think that your family hates you?" I asked him once again.

  "They can't hate convenience. But when I have zero value for them then it's another story"

  He told me to not trust anyone yet his personality and alibi alone proved me that he had nothing to win from this world. The man, born from his parents' power thirsts, but maturing at that age was without a doubt, a huge laceration in the chest. The man fixes his gaze into my level. There is more than just exchanging glances, it is a conversation, raw, and heart-to-heart.

  "The traitors, they appear blind. Yet the eyes are not the only thing that could not see"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Take it with a grain of salt. When the time comes, they will steal the salvation that you have been looking for"

  "If I have to pay up for my account how are they supposed to kill me?"

  "They mention stripping you from the contract,"

  "Hmm... okay"

  Hmm okay???

  "The fuck you mean 'Hmm... okay'??"

  "What do you want me to do? Accuse them of treachery!?"

  "I went through all of that just for a 'Hmm... okay'!!??" I stood up on both of my feet, feeling the urge to inflict multiple physical trauma on him.

  "No one asked you to f-"

  "AS IF!"

  Spontaneous combustion in between thoughts fueled the rage, and the rage itself fueled the hand to geld him but by the neck. Something does not add up, the tip of my fingers and even my palm feel a growing sensation of burn. It accumulates to a point where it becomes so hot that I don't feel hot but a burning frost. Just a second later fire, dark-coloured, engulfs the very hand that holds Herjuna by a choke. The jawless man and I exchanged gazes, while continuously gazing into the anomaly that occurred in front of our eyes. I myself did not know how on heaven, earth, and hell this fire would come from my very own hands. This had never happened before, I think he knew it well.

  "How?" He asked in a dead serious tone.

  "I- I don't kno-"

  "STOP PLAYING!"

  "I- IT JUST HAPPENED!!" The fire dies as I let my hand go.

  Nothing ever makes sense in this world. It's like explaining an unlawful act a psychopath does to keep their 'appetite' satiated. However, I find it interesting that if I could copy Herjuna's ability for my own good I might as well get to experience other things even-

  "Just in case, I'll contact a friend from Kauman. She might have solutions..." the man said while crushing the butt of his tobacco roll onto the table.

  "I could read mind?"

  "What?"

  "Do you think I could steal Lieutenant's ability?"

  Hard slap across my face. Ears are ringing, it was not a wake-up call but a 'Are you fucking stupid!?' type of slap. It got some heat, and I'm sure his hand feels the same, after all, action equals reaction.

  "You . Dont . Know.. the cost of this power, Airlangga. Live up to your name and learn to be wise with your decisions"

  "Pray tell then!! You beat the shit out of me when I try to be resourceful!"

  "That man- he made a pact with The King of the Blinds"

  Red King of Tuesday. King of the Blinds. Normal people would not know things about Djinns, but the Kauman certainly know what kind of thing this spirit is. I have heard the name but that's about it.

  "You do not mess with hell, Airlangga. Once you dip your foot in, there's no turning back. I merely received help from a faithful spirit, but this man made a pact with one of the Seven Lords of the Week"

  "Your families are fucking twisted in the head, Herjuna. Shit fucks like all of you are the reason we're living in such living hell-"

  "TRUST ME, IF I HAD THE POWER TO DO SO I WOULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL!!"

  His voice echoed, but the silence that emerged after the soundwave died was even bigger. He killed his own parents so I think he was being honest to himself. Herjuna covers his face in frustration, blood specks in his fingers, and everyone would agree that he's trying his best to mask each inch of agony on his face. Smudge it and cover it with the ink of bravery and intellect, or whatever ink he has.

  "Well, do you have it now?" I asked him.

  "I'd love to believe that I do..."

  It's enough. It might sound idealistic but surely fighting for the just is written everywhere in any holy scriptures. After all, it all started with a dream before you needed to crawl your way through those mountains of problems. This is the calling, this is my purpose, and those nightmares that I have is all about his salvation.

  "Let us get to work then, First Sergeant..."