Headlights cut through the darkness.
Blinding.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
The engine hummed low—
but the air around it felt wrong.
Heavy.
Cold.
As if something had arrived—
that didn't belong.
Arga felt it first.
The energy inside him spiked.
Not warmth.
Heat.
A warning.
"…they're here," he whispered.
The man in the hat stepped out.
Same smile.
Calm.
Unchanged.
Dangerous.
Pak Rahmat moved instantly, placing himself between them.
"So you came back."
The man chuckled softly.
"Pak Rahmat… still protecting children?"
Rahmat didn't flinch.
"Still stopping you."
Silence settled between them.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
The man lifted a small device.
A scanner.
BEEP… BEEP…
He pointed it at Arga.
Numbers flickered rapidly across the screen.
His smile widened—just slightly.
"…higher than expected."
Pak Rahmat stepped forward.
"Put that away."
Ignored.
The scanner shifted.
Sinta.
BEEP—
Bimo.
BEEP—
The man exhaled slowly.
"…so it's true."
"…the first generation is stabilizing."
Arga clenched his fists.
"What do you want?"
The man didn't answer.
He raised his hand.
Shadows moved.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then more.
Heavier.
Sharper.
Not just fighters.
Units.
Sinta tensed.
"…there's more than before."
Bimo swallowed.
"…I really don't like this level."
Pak Rahmat's voice cut through.
"Stay behind me."
The man spoke calmly.
"A demonstration."
"…of the gap between us."
He snapped his fingers.
One of them moved.
Instant.
BOOM!
The ground shattered where Arga had been.
He barely dodged—pulling Sinta with him.
"Too fast—!" she gasped.
Another attacker lunged at Bimo.
"NOPE!"
He ran—fast—controlled—
barely avoiding the strike.
"THIS IS STILL TOO MUCH!"
A third attacker leapt—
higher than Sinta ever had—
and caught her mid-air.
Her eyes widened.
"…again—!"
But this time—
Arga didn't hesitate.
He moved.
Fast.
Controlled.
THUD!
His strike broke the grip.
Sinta dropped—
rolling cleanly across the ground.
"…better," she muttered.
The next hit came immediately.
Arga raised his arms—
BOOM!
The force slammed into him.
He slid back, feet scraping against the ground.
His arms trembled.
Pain surged.
"…still stronger," he realized.
These weren't unstable like before.
They were refined.
Controlled.
"Enough."
Pak Rahmat stepped forward.
One step—
and everything changed.
The air stabilized.
Still heavy—
but no longer chaotic.
Controlled.
He moved.
Gone.
BRAK!
He reappeared in front of the attacker—
and drove him back.
The ground cracked deeper under the impact.
Shockwaves rippled outward.
Silence followed.
Even the attackers paused.
Arga stared.
"…that's control…"
Not speed.
Not strength.
Perfect balance.
The man in the hat smiled.
"…as expected."
His gaze shifted to Arga.
"Do you see it now?"
"That's what you're meant to become."
A pause.
"…if you survive."
Pak Rahmat didn't move.
"Leave."
His voice was quiet—
but absolute.
The man studied him for a moment.
Then—
exhaled.
"…fine."
He raised his hand.
The attackers stepped back.
Disciplined.
Precise.
Before entering the car—
he looked at Arga again.
Longer this time.
"Next time…"
"…we escalate."
The door slammed.
The engine roared.
They were gone.
Silence returned.
But it wasn't relief.
It was weight.
Reality settling in.
Bimo dropped to the ground.
"I officially hate this."
Sinta leaned against the wall.
"…they're getting stronger."
Arga stood still.
Breathing hard.
Thinking.
Pak Rahmat spoke quietly.
"That wasn't an attack."
"…it was an evaluation."
Silence.
Arga opened his lunch box.
The glow expanded.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Five grains.
Brighter than ever.
"…it increased," he said.
Pak Rahmat nodded.
"You adapted under pressure."
"…that's how it grows."
Sinta looked up.
"…if that was just a test…"
Bimo finished it.
"…we're in serious trouble."
No one argued.
Far away—
in another school—
a lunch box opened.
A faint glow appeared.
Then another.
And another.
Children paused.
Confused.
Unaware.
Across the city—
red points blinked.
One by one.
Activations.
Uncontrolled.
Unprotected.
Pak Rahmat looked toward the distant skyline.
"…it's spreading faster than expected."
Arga closed his lunch box.
His grip tightened.
His eyes steady.
"…then we don't wait anymore."
Silence.
Then Sinta nodded.
"…we move first."
Bimo sighed.
"…great… we're really doing this."
A quiet wind passed through the empty yard.
But this time—
it carried something different.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Resolve.
Because now—
they understood.
This wasn't just their fight.
This was everywhere.
And if they didn't act—
no one would.