The moon revealed itself in the dark night sky.
Beneath it, a streak of violet light tore across the air, slicing through wind and cloud, racing toward a city in Peninsular Malaysia.
Kota Tun Perak.
A metropolitan titan standing tall, as if daring the capital to challenge it. Skyscrapers speared into the sky, glass walls reflecting neon that never slept. The city pulsed like a living organism, breathing through highways and narrow back alleys.
Cars flooded the main roads, moving endlessly, aligned like a river that refused to dry.
The violet streak weaved between high-rises.
For a split second, streetlights flickered. Billboards glitched. Digital screens shuddered as if brushed by something foreign. Electronics inside nearby buildings stuttered briefly.
No one cared.
In a city this large, minor disruptions were background noise, swallowed by human chaos.
The light curved and slipped into a dark alley, hidden from public eyes. There, it slowed, expanding like a forced blossom of light tearing itself open.
Khai stepped out.
The alley was empty. No people. Only damp concrete, old trash, and the distant echo of a city that never stopped breathing.
He paused.
His gaze fixed on the mouth of the alley, where brightness and human noise waited beyond. The normal world. The world that had no idea something impossible had just brushed against its skin.
He exhaled.
His shoulders slumped forward. His posture bent slightly. Each step looked reluctant, as if his joints objected to motion. From afar, his silhouette resembled a body still moving while its soul lagged behind.
The closer he got to the alley's end, the brighter it became.
The louder the voices.
Khai stepped out.
People crowded the sidewalk. Laughter. Overlapping conversations. Footsteps colliding in rhythm. Children ran past with shrill giggles, chased by exhausted parents who still managed to smile.
He looked up.
A massive digital billboard clung to the side of a skyscraper, casting pale blue light across his face.
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10:00 PM.
The city was nowhere near sleep.
Restaurants were still packed. Lights wide open. Tables filled with customers unwilling to go home. Kota Tun Perak resisted nightfall, resisted endings.
Khai slipped into the current of bodies, moving with the human tide. He disappeared between shoulders and arms. Unremarkable. Unnoticed.
Minutes later, he entered a pasar malam.
The smell hit him first. Grease. Smoke. Spices. Burnt sugar. Grills hissed. Metal spatulas clanged against woks without mercy. Vendors shouted prices. Buyers bargained loudly. Everything collided in a living storm of sound.
Khai stopped.
A small child bumped into his leg. The tiny body lost balance and fell, crying instantly against the pavement.
Khai flinched.
He dropped to one knee, hand lifting instinctively toward the child.
Then a voice cut through his mind.
No one came to help you.
Askum.
Still fresh. Still venomous.
The morning flooded back. Him against a wall. Blood slipping from his lip. His arm too heavy to lift. Almost broken.
All he heard then were screams and retreating footsteps.
No one came.
Only himself.
Frozen.
I was scared!
Ratree's voice pierced through him. Shaking. Terrified. Yet she had still stood in front of him, powerless.
The memory shattered.
"Sorry, sir..."
A woman's voice pulled him back.
He looked up. The child was already in her arms. She bowed her head slightly, worry etched across her face.
Khai answered with a hollow smile.
His eyes followed mother and child until they dissolved into the crowd.
He stood slowly, staring at his hands.
Am I selfish too?
"Have you guys seen the viral video about Kenz?"
Khai turned toward a group of youths nearby.
"He showed up in Thailand, bro," another said, excitement mixing with disbelief.
Khai frowned.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. His fingers moved quickly, typing the keyword that was already forming in his mind.
The screen flooded with videos. Discussions. Speculation. CCTV clips from distant angles.
His face tightened.
He tapped one link.
Everything led to a single video with a Thai title.
Nearly three million views.
In three hours.
Khai stared at the screen.
Inside the footage, a restaurant lay in ruins. Plates and leftover food scattered across the floor. Red-violet mist filled the air.
Static tore across the recording, but the image remained clear enough.
A figure in a purple jacket with black stripes launching a kick toward a gorilla-armed pelesit.
Then static swallowed the screen entirely.
Impossible.
Khai's eyes widened. He shot up from the bench abruptly, startling those around him.
My active Zing disrupts electromagnetic fields.
This footage shouldn't be clear.
He gripped his chin, pacing aimlessly through the market.
There's no way Zingforce solved that problem already.
Questions battered his mind. His phone nearly slipped from his grasp. He wasn't watching where he walked. His shoulder collided with strangers again and again.
The more he thought, the worse it tangled.
Did Zingforce leak this themselves?
Kenz's existence was classified data.
He stopped again.
Khai looked up.
The surrounding skyscrapers felt like cage walls, blocking out the sky.
His eyes were heavy, but something sharp lived at their edges. His fist tightened.
Who am I fighting now?
"With all due respect, we invite Dr. Syarifah..."
A voice from a large screen outside a nearby restaurant cut through his spiral.
Khai turned.
On the screen, a young woman in hijab and glasses spoke calmly.
Dr. Nur Syarifah Binti Mansur
Head of Malaysian Zingforce Intelligence
Her name flashed briefly below her image.
Khai studied her face.
Then he shook his head slowly.
He turned away from the restaurant.
No.
I can't draw public attention.
His shoulders lowered again. His expression hardened.
Khai slipped back into the crowd.
Alone.
Vanishing into a sea of people who never realized he was there.
