Mrs Ghyu sighed.

  Meanwhile, the door of the boat opened, gaining everyone's attention.

  *ONE AFTER THE OTHER, AND STAY PUT.* Mrs. Ghyu projected her voice, making it reverberate throughout the entire boat interior.

  At her instruction, everyone disembarked, with her at the rear and Masa Ed and his group right in front of her, keeping the file.

  Stepping onto solid ground—a rock-paved riverwalk—and arriving before a thirty-three-meter-tall grand edifice that shared an aqua ceiling with the flame-lit underground level, Masa Ed turned around—guiding Plum, whose hand he held, to do the same. His eyes followed the large boat as it was swallowed by a fog that appeared from nowhere, continuing its journey downstream.

  Meanwhile, Abu Dinn moved closer, standing behind him, his eyes also tracking the drifting boat being consumed by the fog.

  “Your Excellency, it’s called a fog boat. Rumor has it they are capable of ferrying across any underground level by simply drifting on underground streams,” he lectured. “I think the mystery fog is responsible.”

  He received a side-eye from Masa Ed.

  Who can’t see that? Masa Ed scoffed.

  As the river-wide fog drifting along with the boat finally swallowed it completely, he let go of Plum’s hand and turned around, facing the glowing white edifice engaged with a similar glowing white wall that stretched to the side as far as the eye could see—its convex fa?ade forming a bulge along the white wall.

  What are we waiting for?

  He looked left and right, stopping when his gaze found Mrs. Ghyu, who stood at an angle in front of him and the others.

  Reverberating, her projected voice reached everyone.

  *INITIATES, IT’S THE GRAND BARRIER STOPPING US. IT WILL SOON BE LIFTED.*

  I see. But why is it taking so long?

  Curious, he narrowed his eyes, focusing as he scanned the empty space in front of Mrs. Ghyu, stopping only when he saw a faint shimmering above the edge of the landing of a flight of steps adjacent to the riverwalk—the stepped edge of the raised level the edifice sat on, spanning its perimeter from the wall on the left to the right.

  It’s like a force field...

  Sensing a presence close to him—something brushing his shoulder and hitting the pitch-black briefcase he carried—he turned his head and saw Sera, also squinting as she observed the faint shimmering that seemed to be the barrier stopping them.

  “See anything?” he inquired.

  Sera ignored him.

  Moving on, he turned to Plum.

  “What do you see?” he asked her.

  “It’s like a bubble,” she replied.

  Masa Ed nodded his head.

  Then, in the next moment, he grinned—unlike those in front of him, who became startled and fearful as everyone except Mrs. Ghyu, Sera, and Plum simultaneously realized that a five-meter giant figure in a full-length black overcoat and black fedora hat stood on the edge of the raised level some distance ahead of them, seeming to have been there for a very long time.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Ghyu, ignoring the giant figure standing guard and seeming lifeless, projected her voice.

  *LET’S GO.*

  She led everyone up the perimeter steps.

  All the while, Masa Ed observed the five-meter-tall man dressed in black—his face strangely obscured as he watched them climb the steps and cross where the barrier had earlier been, stepping onto the raised level where he also stood. The initiates closest to him avoided that side as they continued alongside everyone else toward the grand portico of the edifice, walking hastily over the green mowed grass.

  He is likely the guard in charge of this place. Then this place must be very important.

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  Masa Ed gave the giant one last glance by turning his face slightly to the side where he stood momentarily. Then he stretched out his hand, holding Plum’s hand, with Sera at his other side and Abu Dinn following closely behind.

  His eyes focused on the eighteen-by-ten-meter entrance door of the edifice at the end of the twenty-four-meter-wide portico. He tried to peer through the bottom-center door gap but to no avail. Instead, he saw white light thinning as they drew closer to the portico.

  As they stepped onto the cresset-lit white floor of the portico, Masa Ed and most of the others simultaneously realized that another giant figure, identical to the first, seemed to have been standing at the edge of their path to the building entrance—looking lifeless, his face also obscured.

  A moment later, Mrs Ghyu’s projected voice reached them, reverberating.

  *DROP YOUR BRIEFCASES AND CLOAKS.*

  The instruction halted Masa Ed’s observation of the giant figure.

  He and the others split in two directions, heading to the sides of the portico where benches stood under a shed. Upon reaching them, they dropped their briefcases. Those wearing cloaks removed them, revealing their faces and figures before hanging the cloaks over the backrests of the benches.

  Masa Ed turned to Plum beside him.

  “Plum, how are you going to identify your briefcases if there’s a mix-up?”

  “There can’t be a mix-up. We’ve bonded with them,” she replied, also dropping the small white bear-backpack she wore. “Rayo, you might have to do yours later. I’ll show you.” she smiled.

  *GO INSIDE, PICK A CIRCLE, AND MEDITATE.* Mrs Ghyu ordered, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Faces revealed and dressed in different attires with somewhat matching colors—black, white, and gold shades—everyone headed for the building entrance—the two-by-four-meter gap—and entered into a domed-roof rotunda, one hundred and eight meters wide.

  “I can play ball here,” a short boy with short black curly hair observed. He wore black shorts and a long-sleeve white tee snugly fitting his light-brown skin.

  Is this not the bastard that kicked a ball at me?

  Masa Ed focused on the smiling boy, his mind trailing to the incident that happened on Queen Dawn, involving him and Sera when he first met her.

  “They said, pick a circle and meditate,” a tall and slender girl chimed in, sounding commanding and strict. She wore a black blazer that cinched her small waist, a complementing short pleated skirt, and black nylon stockings.

  Her words, like an instruction, sent some into motion. As she moved—her hips swaying, her hourglass figure backing Masa Ed—he skimmed her light-gray hair tied in a neat low bun with long side bangs. Then his eyes scanned those moving toward empty golden circles that filled the white floor in a close grid pattern. They sat inside them, mirroring the few already seated in lotus position, appearing to seek a meditative state of mind through rhythmic breathing.

  Meanwhile, Sera and Plum left his side, choosing golden circles next to the one he stood in.

  Abu Dinn moved closer to him, smiling warmly.

  “Your Excellency, do you have a breath-work technique?” he inquired.

  Masa Ed smiled. Ignoring him and his question, he sat cross-legged on the floor.

  Analyzing as Abu Dinn moved away, his eyes skimmed his fellow initiates—boys and girls—observing that none looked older than twenty, though their ages were likely within a similar range as his.

  Some lack an adult vibe. He concluded.

  He settled properly into the lotus position. Briefly his eyes scan the rotunda—specifically, the character[HALL OF SAINTS] written on the decorative wall attached to where the thirty-three meter tall wall of the place meets the dome.

  Hall of saints, funny. He chuckled softly. I should try this thing.

  Closing his eyes, he shifted his awareness from the darkness behind his vision and centered it on his calm breath. He steadied himself, seeking the fabled meditative state.

  Moments later, he picked up a rhythmic sound coming from the ground beneath him. It seemed to accompany a familiar pulse—like the beating of a heart—echoing beneath the ground, with him at the center.

  Without realizing it, his breath and heartbeat synchronized with the pulse, creating a balance in his throat that automatically suspended his consciousness. Instinctively, he began making a low sound that strangely matched the natural frequency of the room in one instant—then stopped in the next.

  Prompted, his sinking awareness slowly began to return to the surface. On its way, It picked up faint traces of waves originating above his boundless sea—different and blurry stitched images of boys and girls who seemed to be panicking—and sonar-like signals returning to the surface—overlapping voices crying out:

  Where are we?

  What is happening?

  It’s cold.

  Someone wake the others.

  What is going on? I’m scared.

  Is this place haunted?

  No one should activate spirit vision.

  What’s going on? A thought emerged, ascending past Masa Ed’s awareness, rushing to the surface of his boundless sea ahead of him.

  Simultaneously, a will like a scoop descended. It brought his awareness to the surface, ignoring the pressure of the waters, fulfilling an undying pact.

  “Rayo,” Plum called. Regaining his consciousness because of it, Masa Ed opened his eyes to a dimly lit surrounding, air staled and damp, a rotten smell assaulting his nose.

  As he regained his balance and anchored his consciousness, his hearing picked up an ensemble of annoying voices drifting around him.

  “Where are we?”

  “What is going on? I’m scared.”

  “No one should activate spirit vision.”

  “Is this place haunted?”

  “What’s happening? It’s cold.”

  These people are shouting. Masa Ed frowned, standing up with the help of Plum, who stood close beside him.

  “Someone wake the others,”

  He looked at the direction the voice came from. Gawking with fascination on his face; he watched the tall and slender, light-gray-haired girl walk towards Dali—the loc-haired boy.

  Its that girl, how?