"The Gate is beginning to open."
Raka immediately looked at Laras.
"The real Gate?"
Laras did not answer. Instead, she walked toward the window and looked up at the sky. The gigantic symbol above the palace was becoming clearer. Purple light slowly spread across the sky like cracks in glass.
Raka then looked at the elderly woman.
"What does this mean?"
The woman was still standing there with a pale face.
"The Nusantara Gate..."
"Yes, I've already heard its name. But what exactly is the Gate?"
The elderly woman opened her mouth, but did not answer immediately.
Laras then turned toward Raka.
"Raka, we have to leave."
"Where?"
"Somewhere safer."
Raka immediately pointed at the book that was still lying open on the floor.
"Wait. I just found something."
"That is precisely why we have to leave."
"Why?"
Laras approached Raka and picked up the book.
"Because this book should never have opened."
"Why?"
Laras did not answer. She quickly closed the book. However, before it completely shut, Raka caught sight of a small line of writing at the bottom of the page. The First Heir was not chosen by the Gate.
Raka frowned.
"Laras."
"What now?"
"There was another sentence in the book."
Laras remained silent.
"The First Heir was not chosen by the Gate."
Laras's expression immediately changed.
"Don't read it."
"Why?"
"Because you don't understand what it means yet."
"Then explain it to me."
Laras tightened her grip on the book.
"Not now."
Raka sighed.
"Oh, come on..."
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the library entrance.
Several guards entered in a hurry.
"Laras!"
Laras immediately turned around.
"What happened?"
"His Majesty has ordered all guards to evacuate the inner palace."
"Why?"
"The symbol in the sky is growing larger. Several rooms have begun experiencing disturbances."
Raka immediately looked toward the window.
"Disturbances?"
The guard swallowed hard.
"Several doors that have been sealed for hundreds of years... are beginning to open."
Laras fell silent.
Raka watched her expression.
"What doors?"
Laras then looked at Raka.
"Raka, come with me."
"Where?"
"To see the king."
"Why?"
"Because it seems he already knows what is happening."
Raka sighed.
"Wasn't I just taken to the guest room?"
"The situation has changed."
"Why does everyone here always say that?"
Laras did not answer.
She immediately walked out of the library, and Raka followed her. But before leaving the room, he turned toward the elderly woman one more time.
"Ma'am."
The woman looked startled.
"Do you know who the young man in the painting is?"
The elderly woman stared at Raka for a long moment. Then she answered in a quiet voice.
"He is the one who brought that heritage into this world."
Raka immediately stopped.
"What heritage?"
The elderly woman lowered her head.
"The heritage that should never have returned."
Suddenly, the palace corridor, which had previously been quiet, was filled with guards. Several people ran past Raka and Laras. From somewhere in the distance came the sounds of breaking objects and the screams of servants.
Raka quickened his pace.
"Laras."
"What?"
"If the Gate opens, what will happen?"
"It may not open completely."
"So there's a possibility?"
"Yes."
"And if it opens completely?"
Laras fell silent.
Raka looked at her.
"Laras!"
"This world will change."
"How?"
"Not in the way you imagine."
Raka sighed.
"Your answers always make things even scarier."
Laras said nothing.
But this time, Raka could see that she was genuinely worried. She was not pretending.
She was not merely hiding something. She was truly afraid. Eventually, they reached the main hall. The large doors stood wide open. The king was still standing near the staircase, surrounded by several guards.
The moment he saw Raka, he turned toward him.
"You have seen it."
Raka approached him.
"The Gate?"
The king nodded.
"Yes."
"Why is it opening?"
The king looked at the notebook in Raka's hand.
"Because you have arrived."
Raka frowned.
"So all of this is happening because of me?"
"Not entirely."
"What does 'not entirely' mean?"
The king walked toward the center of the hall.
"The Gate has been waiting for a long time."
"Waiting for whom?"
The king stopped.
"The heir."
Raka clenched his fists.
"Don't call me that if none of you are willing to explain anything."
The king looked at him calmly.
"You want answers?"
"Yes."
"Then come with me."
Laras immediately turned toward him.
"Your Majesty, is that really necessary?"
The king nodded.
"The time has come."
Raka looked at Laras.
"The time for what?"
Laras did not answer.
The king then walked toward a corridor behind the hall. The corridor was much darker than the rest of the palace. Two guards stood in front of a stone door. When the king approached, they immediately knelt.
"Your Majesty."
"Open the door."
The two guards exchanged glances.
"Your Majesty... that door has been sealed since—"
"Open it!"
The king's tone made them fall silent. They stood on either side of the door and placed their hands against the symbol carved into its surface. Blue light appeared. But the door did not move.
The king then looked at Raka.
"Approach the door."
Raka pointed at himself.
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because the door will not open for anyone without the blood of Nusantara."
Raka looked at Laras.
She only nodded. Raka walked toward the door. The closer he got, the hotter his grandfather's notebook felt inside his pocket.
"Don't tell me..."
Raka took out the notebook. Golden light immediately emerged from between its pages.
The symbol on the stone door began to glow. Then a deep sound echoed through the corridor.
KRAAAK!
The door slowly opened. Cold air poured out from inside the room. Raka felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"What kind of place is this?"
The king did not answer. He simply walked inside. Laras followed behind him, while Raka walked between them. The room was shaped like an enormous underground chamber. Its walls were covered in ancient carvings. Several torches burned with blue flames, even though no one had lit them.
At the center of the room stood a stone altar. And on top of it... There was an ancient keris.
The keris looked simple, but its entire surface was covered with carvings resembling the symbol in Raka's notebook.
Raka immediately stopped.
"This is..."
The king looked at the keris.
"The Sleeping Heirloom."
Raka slowly approached it.
"How long has that keris been here?"
"A thousand years."
Raka stared at it, holding his breath.
"A thousand years?"
The king nodded.
"Since the last war."
Raka looked more closely at the keris. For some reason, he felt as though he had seen it before.
Not in the palace. Not in a book. But in a hazy dream. A dream of a man standing in front of a temple. In his hand was the same keris.
And behind him... There was a red sky filled with flames.
Raka suddenly grabbed his head.
"Ah..."
Laras immediately approached him.
"Raka?"
"I... I've seen this before."
The king looked at him sharply.
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Raka closed his eyes.
"I just... feel like I've been here before."
Suddenly, the keris on the altar began to tremble.
KREK...
Laras immediately drew her sword.
"Your Majesty."
The king raised a hand.
"Don't attack."
The keris trembled again. Golden light began to emerge from its blade.
Raka stared at it.
"Why is it moving?"
The king did not answer.
Instead, he looked at the notebook in Raka's hand.
"Approach the heirloom."
Raka immediately stepped back.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because every time you tell me to approach something, trouble follows."
Laras almost smiled when she heard that, but quickly held it back. The king remained silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"If you do not approach it, the heirloom will continue calling to you."
"Calling to me?"
Raka looked at the keris. Sure enough, it trembled again. This time, even more violently. Golden light spread throughout the room. Raka's notebook opened by itself. Its blank page began to fill with writing. Raka read the sentence that appeared. The heirloom will awaken when the heir remembers who he is.
Raka froze.
"Who I am...?"
Suddenly, the woman's voice echoed in his mind again.
"Raka..."
Raka immediately looked around.
"Who are you?"
The voice sounded closer than ever before.
"Do not touch the keris."
Raka looked toward the altar.
But the king had already approached the heirloom.
"Touch it."
Laras immediately turned toward him.
"Your Majesty!"
The king ignored her.
"The heirloom has been waiting for a thousand years."
Raka stared at the keris.
On one side, the woman's voice was warning him. On the other, everyone in the room seemed to be waiting for him to do something.
Raka tightened his grip on the notebook.
"If I touch it... what will happen?"
The king answered calmly.
"No one knows."
"That's a very reassuring answer."
"However, only you can awaken it."
Raka took a long breath.
"If I die, don't blame me."
He stepped toward the altar.
Laras immediately stood beside him.
"Raka, don't do something you don't understand."
Raka turned toward her.
"Aren't all of you doing the same thing to me?"
Laras fell silent.
Raka then reached out his hand.
His fingers almost touched the hilt of the keris.
But before his hand could truly make contact—
SUDDENLY!
The entire room filled with white light. Raka immediately covered his eyes. From within the light, a man's voice could be heard. The same voice as the batik-robed figure who had once appeared from his notebook.
"Not yet."
Raka immediately pulled his hand back.
The white light disappeared. The keris became still once again. The king stared at Raka with a serious expression.
"He..."
Laras also looked shocked.
"Your Majesty?"
The king did not answer.
Raka looked down at the notebook in his hand.
A new sentence had appeared on the page. Do not trust the king.
Raka immediately raised his head. The king was looking directly at him. And for the first time, Raka felt that the king did not merely know about him.
He also knew something about the man's voice.
"Your Majesty..."
Raka tightened his grip on the notebook.
"Who has really been speaking to me all this time?"
The king did not answer.
But from the darkness at the back of the room...
The ancient keris began to tremble again.
KREK...
Then the woman's voice whispered inside Raka's mind.
"He is not the one who brought you into this world."
Raka stood frozen.
"Then who?"
The voice answered very softly.
"I am the one who brought you back."