I managed to reach my home after getting my right arm stitched. It was not much of a pain because in fact I have a good pain tolerance. Sun is still far from rising but I already consider this dusk as morning, since there's no such a big difference in them but positions. Knowing that Miriam locked the door, I reached for my front door keys. The locks are rusty so it was somewhat an exercise for the fingers to find the right angle for twisting the key. The living room is dark, yet I could see some kind of silhouette of a Dutch woman with a local cigar in her hand.

  "You're late," she said.

  "What am I late for?" I asked, zero interest.

  "Am I not your wife?"

  "I have no feelings for you."

  Miriam and I are married. But as complicated as my family would be, I have no feelings for her yet she still loves me. We have separate interests and work for different sides of the war scenario. Miriam is a bookkeeper for VOC, and certainly an independent woman. Our marriage is empty since I have no feelings yet she needed someone as an alibi to say no to stupid people who ask her out for some drinks. Morally she's not into that kind of thing, which is good for her as a Catholic woman.

  "Why did you say yes to my proposal then?"

  "You're drunk,"

  "Why don't we make a deal?"

  "About what?"

  "Make love with me and I will tell you all I know about the Company's plan"

  "Keep your hands to yourself, Miriam. I'm exhausted"

  I took off my boots and walked past her, heading to the closet. The upset clicks from her mouth can be heard across the room. Maybe it's just a matter of time until she finally surrendered and left this one-sided relationship. The story of how we met was kind of absurd I was just helping her stalker situations and we agreed to play pretend to get married but somehow marriage office took it for granted, a real deal. Absurd and childish, on top of that our professions contradict each other. We live as roommates in my house and she starts to catch feelings.

  "Did you get hurt again?" she followed me to my closet.

  "No big deal, it will heal before you know it," I assured her, trying my best to satisfy her small talk even though I don't enjoy that kind of thing.

  I began to undress despite the wound and scar limiting my freedom of movement, which Miriam quickly noticed. She gently helps me with the tops, taking off the lapels and unbuttoning my shirt. The lady glimpses at my fresh blood that seeps into the band-aid. Split second she looked very sad, realizing that I came home full of bandages. Do I feel guilty about rejecting her feelings despite our status? No, there's nothing new about marriages in this era, husbands with zero feelings. Not saying that I don't respect her, I have never hurt Miriam both verbally and physically. Again, in my eyes, we're just roommates.

  "You don't have to be concerned. In the bigger picture, I'm still your employer's enemy"

  "I'll clean your wounds"

  Moreover, she doesn't seem to be interested in having kids. She's not pushing anything, I guess she believes that all will fall to their places at the right time. I took off the mask that covered my imperfections. In the mirror my reflection stares, white hair with black ends, fake mandible without lip, fake lower teeth, fake smiles, I am incomplete and so is everyone yet I feel more like a beast compared to others. No parents, no childhood, and was raised to have zero feelings, zero regrets. I often ask myself, what am I? Some organic killing machine was secretly developed to help humanity save the world, probably something like that. Even my own nephew didn't know my existence before.

  "You're not a monster, Herjuna," I said to myself. Maybe that is the greatest fear I have.

  I burned a strand of bandage that wrapped my right arm. It is charred and easy to rip. I took a clean undergarment and went to my bedroom. What a day, but I'm glad I still come back alive despite the shit show that happened at the sanctuary. Will have to talk with Lady Ratnaningsih about whatever she knows regarding this type of possession. I sat on the bed, inhaling air in the hope of calming my mind for a short while. Miriam entered with a tray of stuffs, I mean the wound wasn't that bad, just a small opening because none of us knew how to stitch a wound.

  "Were you not afraid?" I asked her out of the blue while she was busy tending my wound.

  "Afraid of?"

  "Me... my face, my power, myself"

  "People might be normal on the outside but who knows what kind of monsters lie inside them"

  "You know I can no longer have feelings. Why do you insist on this marriage?"

  "You might think it's convenient for the company to spy on your squad. While you don't know how to love me, in the meantime you can think of it as me repaying my debt. I'm a bookkeeper, after all, every debt is etched somewhere... book or receipts"

  "You're not interested in helping the Company in winning this conflict?"

  "They have many people to do that. It's not on my job desk. Besides, I don't hate you for being loyal to your motherland. I don't see the reason to betray anyone"

  But I won't lie her stitches are quite nice and tidy. She dresses the wound, gentle yet somehow she's working fast.

  "Even with separate beds, I still wish you a restful night," she said after cleaning up everything. The woman left without saying anything else.

  I lie down on my bed. Some questions... but no exact answers inside my mind. You could say I might have some similarities with Airlangga, well we're from the same educational mould anyway. Though, I believe that he's the better achiever in academic terms. But luckily experience still speaks the loudest. In my opinion, what makes us different is what kind of questions we ask about life itself. Anyway, tonight I'm supposed to spy on a site with Joseph. I am way too exhausted to read any manifesto from the military. I hope this time somewhat knowledge comes around.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "At the end of the day, I'm still heartless..."

  ————

  The afternoon had somewhat passed, and so did my 2nd cup of coffee. It's about time Miriam comes home from her office work, but even if she decides to drink up with her colleagues for business reasons I would not mind that much. The newspaper told something about the Company's plan to acquire the sugarcane plantation south of the city. There will more likely be another monopoly, sugar and spices exports are somehow a promising market in Europe despite the blandness of their staple food. I just hope that this time any efforts won't go to waste. Paper after paper and file after file, I have them read plus memorized inside my head. The mentioned location of tonight's mission is a sugarcane field in the vicinity of the sugar mill itself. Haryono might be dumb on the outside to send a fire-wielding soldier to an agricultural complex unless he wants to burn the world away for some reason. What is he planning actually... what would Pujokusumo say about this? Well, I suppose if we found a way to get rid of Kraken then I don't think he mind a small price, as long as it's not the staple food.

  "The last time we tried to exterminate a manifestation, we lost a soldier," I tilted my head back, realizing the risk and danger in toying with an astral being.

  I stood up from my chair, looking for a certain research document regarding this matter from Professor Sardjito. The Kraken caused plague to anyone who spills blood in a certain area. There might be some parts that I missed while reading the whole thing. I believe that there's some secret in the data and graphs he drew.

  'The graph of patients affected by the 'Manifestation' doubled by the week. Based on the graph, this indicates that the disease can spread through any contact with patients. On the other side, the lab rats did not show any symptoms of dying cells whenever they made contact or just were near the patients. The conclusion is that this sickness is tied to an individual and not spreadable through conventional means. Psychological factors might be the main reason for the spread, but in what context is still unknown.'

  Do people actually think that this plague is some kind of trend? Even a homeless beggar would know that this is a calamity. Unless a hidden message, rumour, or even mouth-to-mouth testimony is being spread on something. I need to visit several places, I might be close to the truth. The report did not mention anything about hypnotic behaviour spreading between patients and healthcare workers. It doesn't make any sense but maybe I have to think a bit simpler than that.

  "BEJO, GET THE HORSE READY!" I shout to my butler.

  As I read that exact paragraph over and over it's getting even more ridiculous. Does it mean people consent to this disease?? A cult? A FUCKING CULT???

  "You have to be kidding me, there is zero nonsense in this"

  I head over to my phone book, looking for a certain number of a familiar figure. I dialled the number, in sweat and a strong heartbeat. My heart fucking raced as if I was racing with some demon in this bigger scenario.

  "Soedirohoesodo Regency, Mrs. Soediro's speaking. How can I help?"

  "Ma'am... this is Herjuna from the Royal Secret Service. Is the doctor at home? This is urgent and I need you to tell me where he is"

  "How important?"

  "The Lieutenant plans to do something tonight"

  "He's at the Palace. Pujokusumo invited him"

  I hung up and rushed to the backyard. I am wearing my uniform but the lapel is still hanging to dry after laundry. I do not give a shit, even if I get a cut on my salary due to indecency I still have to ask this question as soon as possible. I found Bejo just finished saddling my horse and he was confused about why am I not fully 'clothed'.

  "Tell Miriam I will not come home tonight. Don't let her wait, don't let her drink. Do you understand!?"

  "Y.. yes Young Master..."

  "I will be home by tomorrow"

  "What about the uniform, Den (sir)?"

  "Let it hang to dry!"

  The horse galloped through the high fence, one more reason to enhance the risk of me not having an heir. I live on the outskirts of the town so the trip to the Palace might take quite a time, around 30 minutes by horse. By the time I hit the main road, I realized that his poo bag was missing, the police will be mad but how would they know which horse dung is whose. So I choose to not give a fuck about horse faeces down the street, dogs do it anyway and nobody bats an eye. The street is a bit bustling with people for many reasons, I cannot ride full speed but at the same time, I can't afford to gain attention from any Dutch guard on patrol. I am used to traveling at night for duty but now I have to rush during busy hours. Fuck it I don't have time for queuing up down the road.

  "Run, boy, run!" I said while kicking the horse to pace him up. I surely expect some guards in intersections but who knows, maybe today is my lucky day when all Dutch guards are stationed by Rustenfort or even the frontlines. Who knows,

  ———

  I hop down from my horse as he slows down. Two stable men approached as they took care of him in the Royal stable. I rushed as fast as I could despite the disciplinary committee from the Royal Servants might not let me in because my uniform was incomplete. Does not really matter since I have my badge on me, I suppose. The palace is busy as usual. The kitchen, the scribes, the washers and even the armed forces itself. As I approached the entrance to the Prince's living quarter I was stopped by the Lieutenant.

  "Talk to me, quietly," he said.

  The plague spreads through rumours and mouth-to-mouth gossip. The thing is I do not know where should we start. You know there's a somewhat social barrier between the poor and people like us. Rumours spread like wildfire in poor areas, on top of that most of them are illiterate in both the alphabet and Javanese letters. What if something or someone spread a false claim on those tainted lands? What if they told our people that 'worshipping' those abominations would give them a fortune? You've read the demographic chart on what kind of people were affected by the disease.

  Haryono goes quiet. He's either thinking or too busy to satisfy-

  "I'm thinking, stop with the negative thoughts..."

  Alright, my bad.

  "I heard a rumour from a clergyman, that people are starting to form a heretic cult. I will send someone to check them out for you"

  Who are you sending?

  "Who else? Everyone's busy with their job desk and on top of that the boy recovers ten times faster than a regular human"

  Airlangga?

  "Lieutenant, I still have some-... First Sergeant," the boy entered while holding some mission manifesto in his hands. Looks like he's going to start his first mission as a Ghost.

  "You'd better show some respect after everything I have done to you by not being a stupid fuck trying to be a hero," I said to him once more.

  "I'll remember that, sir."

  "Now, now Banaspati... there's no need for the overreaction-"

  "Do you think he won't be sent back to the sanctuary after this mission? Think of how many will be injured if he somehow gets possessed again. Go ask Joseph if you don't believe me"

  "With all respect, Herjuna. I am not 'that' stupid"

  "You're a fucking time bomb but the timer is on fucking steroids. On top of that, do you think you can just call me by my given name in this context? Haryono, didn't you teach him about manners?"

  "The fuck is that supposed to do with me? If anything it's his father's fault"

  "This is so irrelevant!"

  "SHUT UPPP!!"

  A voice emerges from inside the pavilion. From the window, Prince Pujokusumo looks very disturbed and dissatisfied with our situation. I suppose we could have gone quieter for the greater good but my stance is still on point. I do not agree to send this kid into infiltrating slums and searching for information.

  "Banaspati I understand your concern but my wife is-"

  "To hell with your blind oracle wife. If she's wrong, I'm the one with red marks if anything happens to him, yes?"

  "Fine! If you want to go with him, go. He's your responsibility anyway. Good luck with the hunt, I have other things to do. " The lieutenant left without any objection to my opinion.

  It's just me and Airlangga, he looks stiff and awkward. I don't blame him but for him to be stable in one night is some demigod type of stuff to begin with. Does he really have a connection with the Ruler of the Southern Seas? I mean his mother does but does it apply to the offsprings?

  "So?" He asked.

  "Go home, you need to rest. I'll look into this matter by myself." I walked off the pavilion

  "Aren't you a stupid fuck tryna play hero?" Airlangga used my own words against me.

  "Excuse you?"

  "I'm still figuring this thing out as well. I had no idea about my birth mother up until... recent days. You have questions, I have questions. Let's just... work it out together, I promise I won't do anything stupid"

  He's right. Who am I to deny his duty and callings to save the world?

  "Brief me on the way,"

  Age: 25

  Rank: First Sergeant

  Callsign: Banaspati

  Power: Black fire

  Identity/Traits: Holland Indische School graduate, an orphan since he was 5.

  - Herjuna cannot develop certain feelings, such as love and sympathy for enemies. But he's not a constant negative person. His heart is a blank paper, and he doesn't know how to write or paint.

  - White hair, black ends.

  - His mask is a portrayal of himself, which is an embodiment of the fight between Cakil and Arjuna (Hence his name, Herjuna)