It had been almost three years since Bima had lived with Uncle Bando. He was now nine years old. His days seemed simple—almost like a notebook that had not been touched by ink. But behind his silence, he held a burden that he had never shared with anyone. Not with his teachers. Not with his friends. And of course, not with his new family.
Every morning, even before the rooster had time to dream of singing, Bima was already awake. He swept the yard that was still wet with dew, helped Uncle Bando prepare the meatball cart, then returned to his small room to study alone. No hugs. No words of "keep your spirits up" from a mother. Only a piece of dry bread and a glass of water—if the previous night had left some mercy from the kitchen.
Uncle Bando was not a talkative man. His silence was not because he did not know, but more like a wall—built from broken days and promises that were never fulfilled. The look in his eyes held rain that failed to fall, wounds that never healed, and perhaps... an old promise that had not been fulfilled.
Bima understood. She never asked, but she knew: the man's silence was not cold—but a prayer too tired to say.
Silah, Uncle Bando's son, never really accepted Bima's presence. For him, the child was a shadow of the past that he did not understand, but enough to make his life feel narrow.
One morning, when he saw Bima holding his father's notebook, Silah sneered softly.
> "Do you think that book can transform this kitchen into a palace? Just keep dreaming."
Nina was no less sharp. At school, she spread whispers that were crueler than reality.
> "He's nobody. Even his parents left him."
But when she laughed, there was a strange pause in her eyes. Empty for a moment. As if keeping a secret that he couldn't even tell himself.
Bima didn't reply. Didn't fight back. He just lowered his head. There was anger that almost formed, but was never strong enough to come out. He preferred to write everything down—secretly—in a small book that he hid under his pillow. A place where secrets, fears, and strange dreams gather silently.
---
As night falls like a dark curtain and the sound of crickets replaces the world, Uncle Bando sits alone in the kitchen. From behind an old cupboard, he pulls out an engraved metal box, wrapped in shabby batik cloth. Inside: a nearly faded letter, a blue crystal necklace that glows faintly, and a protective symbol—finely carved on a small piece of stone.
The symbol is unknown to anyone in the village. But Bando knows... it is not something from the ordinary world.
> "If there is something strange... take care of him, Do."
Putra's voice—his old friend—is now just an echo. But the echo never really goes away.
> "This child is not an ordinary child. But he is not ready either. And the world is not ready either."
As Uncle Bando holds the necklace, the crystal vibrates softly—almost imperceptibly, but enough to make his breath catch. Something is awakening. Something that has been sleeping for a long time... and now, slowly opening its eyes.
> "When that time comes… I have to be strong enough to choose."
---
The next day, the sky was too bright to hide any bad intentions. Nina and her two friends locked Bima in the library storage room.
> "Leave him alone. Even a shooting star won't find him," whispered one of them before closing the door.
The room was dark, damp, and dusty. The smell of mold filled the air. In the corner, a rickety bookshelf stood like an old guard who had forgotten his duty. Bima sat leaning back. His hands were shaking. He tried to call his mother's voice—looking for a single memory that could give him strength.
But all that came was Nina's laughter…
And something else.
A whisper. Not from outside.
From inside.
> "Don't take that out, Bima… Don't…"
But the air changed. The bookshelf vibrated. The lights flickered. The scent of unknown flowers filled the room. The blue crystal that had been missing—who knows when—was now hanging around his neck again. The necklace…
It glowed.
Bright.
Brighter than before.
A strange shadow was created on the wall. A glimpse, a pair of eyes... then gone.
The storage door opened slowly. No one turned the key. No footsteps. Only silence, and Bima's breathing, which was now starting to calm down.
---
That night, Bima sat on the roof of the house, staring at the sky that gave no answer. In his hand, he held a blue crystal necklace—the only legacy from his mother. Now he knew, the object was not just a memory. It was a guard. A warning. And maybe... the key to something bigger.
> "Save your strength, son... The world is not ready..."
The voice never really went away. Like a star that continues to shine, even though it is not visible.
In the kitchen, Uncle Bando placed a bowl of noodles near the window. He did not call. Did not say anything.
> "The child is patient... But I have to be more ready than him."
---
And elsewhere, in a space that only silence can touch, Nina sits alone in her room. Under her pillow, there is an old photo. There is a faint symbol in the corner. Someone's face is crossed out in black ink.
She stares at it for a long time. There are no tears. But something inside her... begins to crack. Not like broken glass, but like a seal that slowly loses its meaning.
> "Some wounds do not bleed. But they carve the soul—forming a power that the world will never understand."
---
Three broken souls.
United not by sweet destiny, but by wounds that recognize each other.
Not to save each other,
but to awaken something that has been sleeping for too long—
inside them, and in the world.
> "Sometimes, the greatest power is not the one that burns the brightest... but the one that silently guards in the dark."