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?
Aden’s widened eyes shot towards Alice, as his brows furrowed from hearing Alice’s reply.Alice didn’t budge. Her own eyes struck Matthew’s as he raised his head slowly and stared back at her. Her brow raised, and her lips parted irritatingly while she poked her cheek with her tongue, she waited for his reply.“Hey,” Matthew’s voice echoed across the room like cluster of panting and crawling whispers. “What are you talking about?”“I’m just trying to help,” Alice said. “Help you protect your family. Help you still have that chance where you can still go away from all this quietly. It was really just a matter of time, don’t you think? Until one of us is used to help you make a decision… between your loyalty… or your family. I’m nothing but an instrument here, Matthew. It’s you who’ll make that choice. It’s you who’ll decide which is more
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
As a strong, sudden gust of wind came over them, Aden felt like his heart flowed and obeyed with it too. His taken-aback eyes shot up to Miko. Aden furrowed his eyebrows, while his lips slowly parted. He examined Miko’s glance, and his answer, more thoroughly—before speaking. “What are you talking about?” Aden asked, albeit softly.Miko replied with a sly smirk, as he seamlessly swung his suit jacket around himself and settled it on his right shoulder. He released his stick from his mouth with a final puff of smoke into the garden air, and let it fall beneath him—on the tranquil green, grass floor. He stepped on it, crushed it with his black leather heel then turned his head to face Aden again. “It’s time, kid…” Miko said, his smile still accompanied by a fading smell of cigarette smoke. He nodded. “Time to get your memories back.”The solemn, almost revered, wooden floor welcomed its newly-invigorated
“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
The light turned into a bright flash. It covered Aden and Ramu, as if pulling them into another vicinity. The darkness felt like it speeded past them—or it was them who were speeding past it. Aden could feel himself—his body—deconstructing and re-manifesting into another place. But he still couldn’t quite understand where he was now. He felt like he was still in a state of being transported to another dimension. Like he himself was some kind of wind being sucked in another darkness.Through it all, he could hear Ramu’s voice. It echoed in his head, and he didn’t see the woman beside him anymore. “Hey,” Ramu said. “Let me ask you something, kid. If the void finally gets comfortable with you,” she said. “Will you finally believe everything it has to say?”“What?” Aden shouted to her. “Believe what?”He could feel it once again. The ravaging vibrating and manifesting all
“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 walked—seemingly endlessly—across the red, empty sky. His only companion, he had just killed a few hours ago. The man. The god who attacked him. Yes, he was alone now. No Ramu. No thunderous voice. Not even the memories… have come back. Just him, on that endless, red desert. His only comfort was the sound he made as he paced across the solemn sands. Where was he supposed to go now? He thought. And how was this supposed to end? He had lost the energy. And he had almost lost any emotion. After what he had just seen, after what he had just heard. After seeing himself in that last, manifesting picture. After seeing himself… as Ailan. After that last manifestation of a memory. Nothing else had come up. The void had become increasingly barren. Without the voices that led him, and the scenes they showed him. What was he going to do now? He asked himself. Was this what Ramu was talking about? Before the void continued to show more of itself and his stories, did
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