Matthew inhaled and exhaled challengingly. His intense gasps for air only made it harder for him to actually breathe and calm down. The thick cloth that wrapped around his head denied him of his vision. He didn’t exactly know where he was, but—in his head—he already knew what was going to happen. Especially since he could feel his hands tied to the back of the chair and his feet tied to its legs as well. How did he forget? He felt foolish. And irritated. He felt stupid and senseless. How could he forget? He only remembered when it was already too late. When the headbag had already masked him and took him from any control or freedom on everything else that happened next. But he knew that face. He knew that young, lost and confused man. And before everything went south, he had already said. “You’ll only make things worse if you get back your memories…” It was cold. And silent. Just a toneless, voiceless room. What time was it? How long had he been out?

Matthew had gotten accustomed. Being accompanied by the circling darkness like that, and finding his one and only companionship in a single, careless fluorescent light hanging above the ceiling—just watching him heedlessly… think about something. Anything. Anything to convince them to leave his family and that he really knew nothing.He thought of his family. His wife. His kids. He never should’ve left, he thought. First the NPA, now this. This was going to be the last one, he thought. Maybe, he once had accepted the fact that in his work, corruption was unavoidable. But this was it, he thought. There had to be a way to—he scoffed in his head—practice law. Maybe, he thought, he did this—whatever this was—because he believed them to have rules. Now he saw himself wrong.Why? He asked himself. Why did he not remember any of this?They were just glimpses. Flashes. Not images, even. More like ideas suddenly popping

“Ate,” Lyle said. His head cocked up at the full sunrise of the morning shining upon them. He smiled. “This is what I was talking about.”They were back in the mountain now. Heading for the birang. But now, they had Matthew with them. The day was already past its sun’s waking hours. If there was such a thing as a full sun, this was it. The cosmic yellow ball of fire hovered above them who stood on the mountain, and it had arisen in all its glory. Of course, a sun was always full. Unlike the white light in the night sky. A sun was always in its complete phase of blaring fire. It was just that the world had its way of blocking it. The clouds. The rain. The pollution. It wasn’t the sun’s fault if there was much shine missing in the world. But this time, the burning circle could never have been more perfect.“You’re right,” Alice said softly. “It is beautiful.&rdq

“Who are you?” Aden’s voice echoed against the hushed wind as he looked at the child kneeling before the deer statue. “Ailan…” he whispered under his breath as if it would make a difference. As if it would help him recognize him. “Accept the Ledanai’i,” the woman’s voice once again resounded across the scene he was looking at.“What?” said Aden, as he tried to make sense of what was happening.“Serve me, child…” there it was again.The boy’s eyes were filled with nothing but determination and solemn resolve. “I will,” he said.Then the statue burned. Bright red fire, bursting from its eyes, then it rapidly crawled to the figure’s antlers. It blinded Aden; his vision suddenly consumed by the flash.                                       

Aden watched as if everything happened in almost a frozen pace. It was just that his mind could not register—after everything he had just gone through—what he was then seeing. The first round of bullets came from the front door. Rifles, spitting and mowing down the hallways, the corridors, and the rooms. Blood; spilled across great distances as ammunition pierced through the guards’ bodies. Men in dark suits, charged through the entrance. Some rained fire through the windows with their pistols and their submachine guns. Slices of wood and shattered glass spewed and spilled beyond Ramu and Aden, who stared fixedly at the door. The dark orchestra of guns and bullets. It eventually died down. But still, through that closed door, Aden could hear the occasional resounding of guns shooting again as their empty shells drop to the floor. Aden could hear it. The Kadlum wouldn’t give up. Some of the guards, even through bullet holes in their chests, would scream and roar, hoping to ju