Kaivan didn't move. His breathing was heavy, deep, his eyes blank beneath tangled hair. Levan paused for a moment, gazing at him. "Gamarjoba, Kaivan," he whispered softly. Then, with a swift motion, he cut the ropes binding Kaivan using a small, sharp folding knife.
Without wasting a second, Kaivan was guided into a large wooden crate that had been prepared earlier. Ethan and Radit rushed over, helping Raphael lift the crate onto a trolley. They ran, weaving through the forest that served as their natural maze, the distant shouts of officers fading behind them.
Felicia remained by the police vehicle. When an officer crawled halfway out through the roof hatch, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed a large stone from the ground and hurled it with all her strength. A sickening crack echoed. The officer dropped without a sound.
Levan slipped into the box truck and gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the narrow, shadowy road ahead. With a smooth maneuver, he avoided the main route and moved to retrieve the rest of the team, Isabel, Thivi, Frans, Zinnia, and Livia, already waiting at the secondary rendezvous point.
Nails scattered across the previous road shredded the tires of the pursuing police cars, forcing them to halt. Inside the box truck, now speeding freely, the tension loosened slightly, though the fear lingering in the air refused to disappear.
Radit sat with his knees pulled up, leaning against the metal wall. A wide grin spread across his face, not joy, but a wildness rising from deep within.
Zinnia sat hugging her knees, her body trembling. "This… is insane," she whispered. Her breathing was uneven, cold sweat gathering at her temples. But she stayed. She had chosen this path, leaving behind a normal life for a future she didn't yet understand.
Isabel bit her lower lip, still shaking. Frans, silent in the corner, stared straight ahead, his face empty, like a statue that had lost its soul. Livia covered her ears, trying to drown out the engine's roar and the pounding of her own terrified heart. She was too young for any of this, yet far too deep to turn back now.
Evening light seeped through the small cracks in the metal walls, shimmering faintly against the cold steel that smelled of oil. The bumps of the uneven road made the room sway, deepening the heavy atmosphere.
Thivi stood near the front, her body slightly bent forward. Her jacket hung open, revealing a tight shirt stained with dust and dried blood. Her short hair was messy; a thin line of sweat trailed down her temple as she glanced toward the large metal crate in the corner. Her blue eyes reflected long-held doubt, as though she was weighing whether their salvation truly waited inside.
"Should we… open the crate?" she asked quietly. Her voice was soft, yet enough to turn every gaze toward her. There was a slight tremor in her tone, not just exhaustion, but a fear she hadn't fully named. Her sharp eyes seemed dim, stuffed with emotions she had locked away.
Silence settled over them, like the breath held before a storm.
Thivi stepped forward. Forcing her trembling hands to steady, she pressed the safety switch on the crate. A low hum sounded, followed by a mechanical click. The lid lifted slowly, releasing the smell of metal, sweat, and confinement, a cold presence that seemed to seep into their bones.
"Kaivan! We did it!" Thivi cried. She bounced lightly in place, her voice shattering the tension like fragile glass. Her fist clenched with excitement, and her usual bright smile finally appeared, yet it felt strange, like a lantern flickering in a graveyard, glowing a moment too late. Her short hair swayed, her large chest rising with breathless relief, her eyes sparkling with a joy that had no idea how quickly it would be broken by the truth waiting inside.
Frans stood a short distance behind them, slumped against the wall of the container. His breath came in ragged bursts, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. "I still can't believe we actually did it," he muttered, though it sounded more like a quiet lament than pride. His car, the one he'd used to crash through the barrier, was now nothing but scraps, and a thin trail of blood still trickled from the cut on his temple, a stark reminder of what their escape had cost.
Felicia sat with her arms crossed, her posture sharp and composed. Her gaze was piercing, as if she could see the contents of the box before anyone even opened it. Her smile was small, not a smile of relief, but one weighed down by responsibility. Her back was straight, her body motionless. She didn't celebrate; she simply watched, eyes reflecting a hidden tension, as though preparing herself for the worst possibility.
Raphael stood with his arms folded across his chest. His face was still, almost statue-like. His attention wasn't on the box, but on Levan sitting behind the wheel. Something about the man tightened his instincts. The way Raphael held himself made it clear, he was bracing for trouble. Countless unspoken questions spun in his mind like a wheel of fate refusing to stop.
Isabel, who had been clutching a large bag to her lap, finally lifted her head and opened it. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled out an old wooden-bound book engraved with symbols she didn't recognize. "Hey, look at this!" she said, voice bright, eyes sparkling. She hurried closer to the box now being opened, lifting the book as though presenting an offering to a god awakening from a thousand-year slumber. Her trembling hands carried the weight of hope and fear intertwined.
"Kaivan, I even brought the Tome Omnicent with me!" she announced brightly, raising the book high. Her smile brought a fragile warmth to the dim container. The orange glow of dusk seemed to reflect off the book's surface, like a fading ember of hope.
But the figure inside the box didn't answer.
Kaivan sat hunched forward, his thin frame wrapped in clothing torn and wrinkled in places. His mouth was stiff, still dry from the gag that had held it shut. His eyes... swept over each of them, Thivi, Frans, Felicia, Raphael, Isabel, as if seeing ghosts. His face was pale like a starless night, his body trembling uncontrollably.
And then he spoke.
"Why are you all here too?! It was supposed to be just me!" Kaivan's voice cracked sharp and panicked, like shards of glass thrown against marble. The words stabbed through the fragile hope that had just begun to take shape.
Silence spread instantly.
Thivi, who had been smiling moments ago, froze mid-step. Her smile vanished like a candle snuffed out. She tilted her head, blue eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "What do you mean, Kaivan?" she asked softly. Her voice quivered, not from fear, but from disappointment. The world around her seemed to dim, leaving only the faint ringing of her heart.
Raphael stepped forward, calm yet firm. He lowered himself to sit cross-legged in front of Kaivan, meeting the boy's gaze head-on. "What do you mean? Didn't you ask Levan to save us?"
Kaivan didn't answer. He only stared back, wordless, like a child who had lost the language to express pain. His fists clenched slowly, his breath uneven. Something in his expression had cracked, and he didn't know how to mend it. Fear, regret, and anger twisted together in a way that no words could fully express.
Outside, Levan sat quietly in the driver's seat. His fingers danced over the control buttons on the dashboard. The yellow glow of the streetlights reflected in his empty eyes. He pressed something.
A soft hiss seeped from hidden vents. None of them noticed, not until it was too late.
Faint, colorless gas slipped out from the corners of the box. Its effect was almost immediate.
Livia blinked slowly, then murmured, "Sis… why does Livi feel so sleepy…?"
Radit, leaning against the wall, suddenly coughed, then went limp. Zinnia, who had been dozing with her eyes half-closed, slumped sideways. Felicia bit her lip and tried to stand, but her knees buckled beneath her. One by one, they collapsed, their consciousness sinking as though pulled into a nightmare they couldn't resist.
Kaivan tried to shout, but the breath caught in his throat. He recognized the smell. He knew what it meant.
But it was already too late.
Levan, his face still drained of any visible emotion, lifted his phone and dialed a number. He waited in the quiet hum of the moving vehicle.
"The package is ready. I'll be there within twenty-four hours," he said in Georgian. His tone was flat and cold, yet if one listened closely, there was a faint trace of satisfaction beneath it, like the final note of a mourning song.
He ended the call. The phone rested gently on the dashboard as he fixed his gaze on the road ahead. The truck rolled forward, slowly, toward a darkness that seemed to swallow everything.
Inside the box, silence settled like a heavy blanket. Only the faint sound of breathing lingered, bodies lying still under the scent of betrayal and secrets yet to be revealed. And in the heart of that suffocating quiet, one truth remained: they had been delivered into a fate none of them understood. And Kaivan, yet again, stood at the center of a catastrophe he never wished for, but could never escape.
The night air cut sharply against the skin as the vehicle's wheels screeched to a halt just outside the perimeter fence of Halim Perdanakusuma International Airport. Not a single light shone in the restricted landing zone, it felt as though the world itself was holding its breath. Yet beneath the stillness, tension thrummed like a high-voltage wire ready to snap.
Levan, draped in a black suit with a face carved from ice, strode across the shadowed runway. Behind him, two large men pushed the logistics container, the same one that had carried something… or rather, someone. Moonlight swept across Levan's features, revealing exhaustion etched into determination. The only thing anchored in his chest was the will to finish this mission.
At the far end of the runway, a private jet waited, its engines already alive. Inside, black leather seats awaited their unconscious guests, unaware of the destiny awaiting them.
Within the newly transferred container, Kaivan lay wrapped in a winter jacket far too big for his frail body. He didn't stir. His face was pale, untouched, like untouched snow. Surrounding him, his friends, Thivi, Frans, Felicia, Raphael, Isabel, Ethan, Livia, Zinnia, and Radit, lay motionless as well, each trapped in an artificial sleep too deep to be called dreaming.
Levan knelt and tucked a wool blanket over Kaivan with a swift yet oddly gentle touch. A breath of cold air escaped his lips before he whispered softly, as though Kaivan might somehow hear him:
"Forgive me. But this is the path. One day… you'll understand."
With practiced movements, he sealed the container once again.
Moments later, the jet began to taxi down the runway. It lifted into the night sky, carrying Kaivan and the others far from Indonesia, not in triumph, but in flight, abandoning their homeland under the weight of an unfinished destiny.
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, the headquarters of Vella's corporation had turned into a metaphorical battlefield. The towering skyscraper rose proudly in the heart of Jakarta, yet tonight, its glass walls reflected nothing but the shape of her fury.
Vella stood with her high heels planted firmly on the granite floor. Her posture was rigid, like a statue carved from obsidian. Her long, glossy black hair swayed faintly in the chill of the air conditioner. But it wasn't the cold that froze the room, it was the air radiating from her gaze.
Before her, a wall-sized LED screen displayed a horrifying scene: the burnt remains of a police car, flames still dancing among melted metal. No deaths, only several officers unconscious and struck by blunt force, yet the broadcast repeated the same dreadful name over and over, like a forbidden spell.
Kaivan.
Vella's lips tightened. Her emerald eyes trembled with restrained rage, her jaw set like stone.
"Where is he?!" she roared, her voice cracking through the room like thunder splitting the night sky.
Beside her, a subordinate who had just received a report froze. His hand shook as he tried to respond.
"M-Madam… we're already, "
THWACK!
A knife lodged itself into his throat, no one even saw where it came from. His body collapsed instantly, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes remained wide even in death, stunned by a decision that allowed no room for failure.
Vella didn't flinch. Not a single muscle on her face reflected remorse. She simply murmured, her voice quiet as a whisper of death:
"Clean this up. I'm tired of incompetence."
In the corner of the room, a woman with short black hair and pale crimson eyes bowed obediently. With a graceful motion, she lifted a black cloth and dragged the corpse away as if disposing of a bag of trash.
Vella turned back toward the massive window. From where she stood, the city lights looked like an ocean of stars.
"Kaivan… You think you can run from me?" she whispered. "I'll sweep across Indonesia, no, the entire world if I must. I swear upon Alchemy itself… you will kneel before me."