"Revan, wake up!" a woman's voice shouted from outside his bedroom door.
"Aghh…" Revan groaned, his head pounding as if he had emptied an entire bottle the night before. He stretched, rubbed his temples, then slowly pushed himself upright. His hand reached for his phone on the bedside table.
The screen lit up with dozens of messages and missed calls from Chief. One text popped up first—asking whether he'd made it home safely after last night's drinking session.
Flashback — Last Night
"CHEERS!"
Five glasses clinked above a cramped bar table stacked with fried chicken, fries, and drinks whose ice was already melting. They had just wrapped up a taxing robbery case, and for once, the night felt light.
At the center, Bobby—their team leader with his signature leather jacket—lifted his glass high.
"Great work today! Our team is the best!"
Putri, Revan's senior—tough, sharp-tongued, and a karate black belt—snorted as she grabbed her drink. "The only unlucky one was the robber. Ran miles just to get caught."
Tommy, their calm and perpetually tired analyst, pushed up his glasses. "I told you the pattern was obvious. And thanks to Revan finding the shop's CCTV footage, we closed the case in record time."
Dinda, Revan's batchmate and a criminal psychology specialist, nudged him. "Seriously, Van. MVP of the night. Three months in and we didn't even have to do overtime."
Revan smiled awkwardly. "Just got lucky."
"LUCK MY ASS," Putri barked, making the table burst into laughter. "If you hadn't found that footage, we'd still be filing reports next week."
Bobby patted Revan's shoulder. "What matters is you learn fast. I'm glad we have someone hardworking like you on the team."
The conversation drifted from case talk to favorite foods, then to who exercised the least (Tommy won by landslide).
Sitting among them, Revan felt warm in a way he rarely did.
Three months with this group felt like finding a small, chaotic, surprisingly comforting family.
Putri leaned back. "We don't have any incoming cases tomorrow, right, Chief?"
"Hopefully," Bobby replied with a shrug. "But this is the police—there's always something waiting."
Dinda raised her glass. "At least tonight, we're free. Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
For that moment, there was no shadow, no dread.
Just a team celebrating a tiny victory.
Revan went home with a heavy head but a peaceful heart—unaware that everything was about to change.
Back to Reality
Revan blinked slowly as his phone vibrated again. He rubbed his face, got out of bed, and cursed under his breath for drinking too much.
"Revan! Eat breakfast before it gets cold!" the same voice—his little sister, Anya—called out.
Revan sighed, a faint smile forming. "Yeah, yeah. I'm up."
As he walked downstairs, the aroma of toast, chicken soup, and scrambled eggs greeted him. The dining table was already set: his mother arranging bowls, his father absorbed in the newspaper, and Anya scrolling through her phone before flashing him a mischievous grin.
"Morning, Ko! You look like someone who drank way too much."
"Case successfully closed," Revan replied, patting her head.
His mother clicked her tongue but smiled. "Drink warm water first. Then eat. Don't go drinking with your coworkers and forget to take care of yourself."
"I eat, Mom. More than enough." Revan sat down and scooped some eggs. For a moment, the room felt soft and warm.
His father glanced up from the newspaper. "Everything clear today?"
"Yeah, Dad. Just finishing yesterday's report."
"Good," his father said with quiet pride.
As Revan ate, a bold headline on the front page caught his eye. A photo of a man. Familiar. Unsettling.
His father muttered, "Looks like he's serious about running for president."
Revan froze mid-chew. His eyes dimmed. Goosebumps prickled along his arms. A knot twisted in his chest, but he looked away and resumed eating as if nothing happened.
No one at that table knew that mornings like this would soon vanish.
But for now, the morning stayed calm.
A peaceful morning—before the first storm touched the city.
Revan stood up, grabbed his jacket. "I'm heading out."
"Take care!" Anya called.
"Always," he replied with a smile.
He slipped on his shoes by the door when Anya jogged over.
"Ko! Come home early, okay? We're baking cookies!"
Revan ruffled her hair. "I'll be home. Promise."
He waved to his family and stepped into the soft morning sun. The air was cool. The world felt light.
A day like this… would soon become precious.
At the Office
The Everbloom Central Crime Bureau—one of the largest in the nation of Aurelian—was already buzzing. Police cars sped past, officers hurried by with files, and radio chatter crackled through the crisp morning air.
Revan parked his motorcycle behind the east district building, yawning as he hung his helmet on the handlebar.
"Morning, bro!" Dinda called—bright as always, impossibly energetic for someone who barely slept.
"Morning, Din." Revan smirked. "What time did you get home?"
"A little after two… And your face is screaming hangover." She nudged him.
"Thanks," he deadpanned, making Dinda laugh.
They walked in. The moment the team room door opened, the scent of strong coffee filled the air.
Putri was casually stirring her cup. "Finally, the baby of the team shows up. What time did you crash?"
Revan dropped into his chair. "Didn't. My tolerance is fine."
"So… three a.m." Tommy said, entering with his own cup. "Based on the embarrassing selfie you sent to the group chat."
Revan dropped his head onto the table. "I need to leave that group."
"Nope," Putri said with a grin. "Team culture."
The door opened again, and Boby strode in—leather jacket and all, like a crime-drama captain.
"Morning," Boby said.
"Morning, Chief!"
"Revan," Boby said, tapping his shoulder, "I read your robbery case report. Good work. Finish the rest today."
"Yes, Chief."
"Today should be easy. No major cases. Enjoy the calm morning before Everbloom throws another storm at us."
Light laughter followed.
In a city like Everbloom—Aurelian's hub for politics, crime, and every shade of intrigue—quiet mornings were a rare blessing.
Revan typed steadily, letting the peaceful mood wash over him.
If only every morning was like this…
Dinda chuckled. "If every day was calm, you'd get bored."
"Bored is fine," Revan replied. "Overtime isn't."
The office fell into a gentle rhythm.
No alarms.
No emergencies.
No ominous calls.
Revan almost believed his life in Everbloom would stay ordinary.
But somewhere else…
A dark room lit by a single yellow lamp.
A whiteboard crowded with photos and scribbled notes.
A figure stood before it, back turned, gripping a knife.
The blade plunged into the photo at the center.
Above it, messy and forceful, were the words:
"THE SHOW BEGINS."
Without a sound, the figure stepped back.
Faded into the shadows.
Vanished.
And the peaceful morning in Everbloom began to crack—
slowly,
quietly,
but inevitably.