Kaivan slipped off his jacket and hooked it onto the chair near the door. His breath was heavy, his body weighed down by an unseen burden. Yet his eyes remained fixed on the book. After a moment of silence, he stepped closer, pulled out the chair, and sat before the desk. His thin fingers brushed against the leather cover, feeling its rough texture.
Carefully, he opened the first page. A chill swept across his face, as though the room itself exhaled. The light flickered for a moment, a subtle signal that something extraordinary was about to begin. The letters on the page glowed faintly, casting strange shadows across the room.
"What's your purpose in bringing me this far?" Kaivan whispered, his voice hoarse. His eyes scanned the page, catching on every detail, every curve of the letters. "And what's going to happen next?" His tone carried a storm of inner conflict, a mix of curiosity and fear of what might come.
The silence deepened. Only the soft sound of the night wind slipping through the cracks of the window filled the air. Then, slowly, the letters within the Tome Omnicent began to move:
"I'm helping you so that you won't become apathetic. One of the steps, you must learn to know them."
Kaivan froze. His face tensed, brows furrowed. "Them?" he muttered under his breath. "Radit… and Zinnia?" But no further answer came. The letters settled back into their original form, as if they had already said enough.
Leaning back in his chair, Kaivan stared at the stained ceiling above. His thoughts raced, unraveling the meaning behind the cryptic words. "Is this… a test?" he asked himself, though deep down, he knew the answer wouldn't be so simple.
With a long exhale, he looked back down at the book. Summoning newfound courage, he turned to the next page. This time, the ink shifted like liquid, forming words that were far more specific:
"Seek out several old Nokia phones, models from 2008 or earlier."
Kaivan blinked at the words, bewildered. "Old Nokias?" His voice carried a bitter chuckle. He stared at the page skeptically, yet some instinct told him these instructions held a deeper purpose. Pulling his jacket back on, he stepped out into the night.
His footsteps carried him to an antique market near Cikapundung, lit only by the dim glow of aging lamps. The narrow alleys brimmed with forgotten relics, each object a fragment of someone else's past. Kaivan's eyes scanned every stall, searching for the clue the book had whispered.
At last, in a secluded corner, he found a small table cluttered with outdated electronics. Scattered among them were the Nokias, scratched, worn, and far from pristine. Kaivan picked them up one by one, his fingers running across their faded plastic, feeling the coarseness of time.
After paying three hundred thousand rupiah, he carried six phones back home. He laid them out on his desk, right beside the Tome Omnicent. With the simple tools he had, he began dismantling the devices one after another, his eyes fixed on every detail.
As he opened the first phone, he glanced back at the Tome, following its guidance. Adding a touch of chemicals as instructed, he uncovered something entirely unexpected. Inside was a scattering of tiny golden grains, shimmering under the lamplight.
Kaivan's breath caught. "This… this is incredible," he murmured. Never in his wildest imagination would he have thought such ordinary objects could conceal something so precious.
Kaivan had a bigger idea brewing. He unlocked his phone, the faint glow of the screen casting pale light across his face. His old contact list appeared, each name carrying the weight of buried memories, Dandi, Rani, Tania, bitter echoes he had long tried to silence. Yet two names stood out: Radit and Zinnia. New names. Names that carried hope, the promise of a fresh beginning.
"...Kaivan? You're calling out of the blue. What's up?" Radit's voice rang with energy, even as the distant murmur of a television buzzed in the background.
Kaivan let a faint smile touch his lips, knowing Radit couldn't see it. "Radit, I've got a business idea. Something big. Something that could bring us a fortune. Interested?"
On the other end, Radit sprang up from his bed, tossing aside his lazy sprawl. Propping himself against the wall, a wide grin spread across his face. His worn denim jacket hung from the chair beside him, forgotten. "A business, huh? Sounds interesting. Alright then. When and where do we meet?"
Relief washed over Kaivan. After setting a time and place, he ended the call and dialed Zinnia. As the line rang, his pulse quickened. He knew Zinnia wasn't the kind of person who let people in easily, but deep down, he was certain she would play a vital role in what was to come. The ringtone dragged on, until at last, a calm yet inquisitive voice answered.
"Kaivan? What is it?" Zinnia's tone was steady, though laced with a subtle curiosity. In her modest room, she sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against her bed. The warm glow of her desk lamp softened the edges of the tidy space.
Kaivan cleared his throat, steadying the slight tremor in his voice. "I want to discuss a major business plan. It's important. Would you be interested?"
Zinnia raised an eyebrow, biting the end of her pen before replying. "A major plan, you say? You've piqued my interest. Alright then, when do we meet?"
Evening settled over the city, painting the sky in hues of soft orange. A small café on the corner of the street glowed warmly under the hanging lights that came alive with dusk. Radit arrived first, his steps firm as the wooden door creaked open behind him.
He dropped into a chair with easy confidence, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Folding his arms across his chest, his eyes fixed on Kaivan, sharp with curiosity.
"So, what are you scheming this time?" His voice carried a teasing weight, lips tugged into a sly grin.
Kaivan didn't answer immediately. A subtle smile played at his lips as he set aside the book he'd been reading on the table. Though his gaze was gentle, there was an unshakable conviction behind it.
"Wait just a moment," he murmured, voice calm, almost like a soothing whisper. "I want everyone here before we begin."
The door chime rang. Zinnia entered gracefully, her simple jeans highlighting her figure without drawing attention. Each step she took was measured, filled with quiet confidence. Her eyes landed on Kaivan, but quickly shifted to Radit. Her brow arched, her expression turning sharp.
"And who's this thug?" she asked coolly, slipping into the seat beside Kaivan with composed poise. The way she set her hand on the table spoke volumes of her self-assurance.
Radit scoffed, a low chuckle brimming with mockery. "And who's this rude woman?" he shot back casually, though his eyes betrayed his irritation. "Why do you look like you're passing judgment on me?" His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the tabletop, baiting her reaction.
Kaivan sighed deeply, raising his left hand slowly, as if pressing down on the air itself to prevent it from shattering. "Both of you are part of this plan. I need you… so please, save this tension for later."
His gaze swept over Radit and Zinnia, two fierce souls pulling in different directions, yet tethered at his side. Watching them clash, Kaivan felt something stir within him. Not anger. Not frustration. But a warmth that had lain buried for so long.
Zinnia turned her face toward the window, letting the fading light brush against her cheek. She breathed out softly, tucking strands of violet hair behind her ear. Across the table, Radit's shoulders eased as he leaned back, his posture loosening, no longer braced for a fight. A fragile silence bloomed between them, not out of distance, but out of something new. An understanding.
And in that moment, in the quiet space between words and presence, Kaivan felt it. The chains that had bound his hands for years, rusted links that forced him to walk with his head down, led by fate with no voice and no choice… they began to crack. Not broken by rage, nor shattered by hatred, but unraveled by something gentler, yet infinitely stronger: their presence.
Drowned in silence, he drifted with no anchor…