The schoolyard had gone quiet.
Not peaceful.
Empty.
As if something had already begun—
somewhere beyond their reach.
Arga, Sinta, and Bimo stood in front of Bu Rini.
No jokes.
No hesitation.
In her hand—
the black card.
JUNK DOMINION
"…what's really going on?" Bimo asked.
Bu Rini didn't answer immediately.
Her eyes scanned the surroundings.
Careful.
Measured.
Making sure no one else was listening.
Only then—
she spoke.
"The MBG program…"
"…was never just about feeding students."
Silence settled.
Heavier than before.
"It was designed…"
"…to build something."
Her gaze shifted to Arga's lunch box.
"…people like you."
The air seemed to tighten.
"Every meal is calculated," she continued.
"Controlled nutrition."
"Gradual adaptation."
"Everything is intentional."
Sinta frowned.
"…so this isn't an accident."
"No."
Bu Rini shook her head.
"It was never an accident."
"And that's exactly why they want to destroy it."
Arga's grip tightened.
"…Junk Dominion."
"Exactly."
Her voice hardened.
"They take shortcuts."
"Artificial power."
"Fast."
"…but unstable."
Bimo let out a dry breath.
"…yeah. I felt that."
A sudden screech cut through the night.
Headlights flared at the school gate.
A car rolled to a stop.
The engine idled.
Low.
Uncomfortable.
A man stepped out.
Calm.
Too calm.
Pak Damar straightened immediately.
"That's from the department…"
The man approached with steady steps.
"Good evening."
Bu Rini nodded.
Their eyes met.
Not strangers.
Something closer to… alignment.
The man's gaze shifted.
To the box.
Then—
to Arga.
"…third stage."
Silence.
Bu Rini turned sharply.
"You're sure?"
He nodded once.
"This confirms it."
Then he looked at the three of them.
Not casually.
Carefully.
As if measuring something invisible.
"…you've been selected."
Arga frowned.
"For what?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"The Nutrition Guardian Program."
Silence deepened.
Sinta's chest tightened.
Bimo blinked.
"…that sounds official."
"It is."
The man stepped closer.
Lowering his voice.
"We don't have time for a full explanation."
"Why?" Arga asked.
The man glanced toward the dark road beyond the gate.
"…because this wasn't random."
A brief pause.
"That box you recovered…"
"…was not meant for this school."
Silence.
Sinta stiffened.
"…what do you mean?"
"It was redirected."
"Deliberately."
"To observe."
"To identify."
His gaze locked onto Arga.
"…targets."
Bimo swallowed.
"…I really don't like being a target."
The man reached into his bag and pulled out a tablet.
With a tap—
the screen lit up.
A map appeared.
Red points blinking across the city.
Scattered.
Too many.
"Multiple distributions detected," he said.
"Not just here."
"Across the entire city."
Arga felt his heartbeat pick up.
"…how many?"
The man didn't hesitate.
"…too many."
Silence pressed down.
Then he looked at them again.
This time—
not as students.
As something else.
"This is your first mission."
The words landed.
Heavy.
Real.
Sinta stepped forward.
"…what do we do?"
The man tapped the screen.
One red point expanded.
"A nearby elementary school."
"Another box was delivered there."
"But there's no response yet."
Bimo frowned.
"…meaning?"
The man's voice dropped.
"…either no one has activated…"
"…or something has already gone wrong."
No one spoke.
They didn't need to.
Arga clenched his fist.
"We go."
Bu Rini stepped forward immediately.
"They're not ready."
The man met her gaze.
"They won't ever be."
A beat passed.
"But if we wait…"
"…more children get exposed."
That was enough.
Sinta stepped beside Arga.
"We're going."
Bimo exhaled slowly.
"…of course we are."
The man nodded once.
"Your objective is simple."
"Find the box."
"Secure it."
"And if necessary—"
A pause.
"…engage."
The word lingered.
Cold.
Final.
Bu Rini stepped closer.
Her voice softened—
but didn't lose its weight.
"Remember the rules."
"Control first."
"Stay together."
"Don't act alone."
They nodded.
No hesitation now.
Arga opened his lunch box.
Three grains.
Glowing.
Steady.
Alive.
He closed it slowly.
Lifted his gaze.
Sharper than before.
"…we won't fail."
The man studied him for a moment.
Then gave a small nod.
"…good."
They moved.
Out of the school.
Into the night.
The city stretched ahead.
Bright.
Unaware.
Unprotected.
Somewhere out there—
another box waited.
And this time—
they weren't chasing.
They weren't reacting.
They were moving first.
A mission had begun.