(There are 2 version of narrative in this chapter. The new script format and the traditional one. It is recommended to read the script format.)
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Script format (including extra content)
[INT. COMMON AREA - NIGHT]
Inside the Portuguese war council chamber, a heavy air of frustration clung to the walls. Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque addressed his officers. Maps of Malacca's defenses and trade routes lay strewn across the table.
Captain Diago Mendes de Vasconcelos: Gentlemen, our previous attempts to conquer Malacca have been in vain. The city's defenses have proven to be insurmountable, and their naval power has repelled us time and again.
Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque: Indeed, Captain. We must acknowledge the strength of the Sultanate's defenses. Our previous tactics have failed, and it is clear that we need a different approach.
Antonio de Abreu: Their mastery of naval warfare has kept us at bay, and even our attempts to disrupt their trade routes have only led to fiercer resistance.
Rui Nunes da Cunha: We find ourselves at an impasse. Our current strategies are not working, and we must find a new path forward.
The door of the war council chamber creaks open, and a mysterious figure cloaked in darkness enters.
Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque: (Suspiciously) Who are you, and what is the meaning of this intrusion?
Mysterious Figure: I possess knowledge of the Sultanate's secrets, and I bear a plan that could alter the course of this war. However, my assistance comes at a cost.
Captain Diago Mendes de Vasconcelos: (Curiously) Speak, stranger. What is this plan you speak of?
Mysterious Figure: (Approaching closer) All I require is safe passage out of this city when the time is right. In exchange, I shall reveal a vulnerability in Malacca's defenses, one that they themselves remain oblivious to.
Antonio de Abreu: (Doubtful) How can we trust you? What guarantee do we have that this is not a trap?
Mysterious Figure: (With a wry smile) Trust is a luxury neither of us can afford. The sands of time are running out, and Malacca grows stronger with each passing day. Will you hear my proposition?
The room falls into a contemplative silence as the Portuguese officers weigh the stranger's offer.
[INT. MOSQUE - DAWN]
The first light of dawn graced the sky, signaling the start of another day in Malacca. Hffyl made my way to the mosque, as he does every morning, for the Fajr prayer.
The Imam recited the verses of praise and submission as the congregation stood shoulder to shoulder. However, as the prayer concluded, a murmur of concern rippled through the congregation.
Mosque Caretaker: (Making an announcement) Something has happened. The city is abuzz with news.
Hffyl: (Heart quickening) What news? What has happened?
Mosque Caretaker: I don't have all the details, but it seems urgent. We must seek refuge.
Hffyl left the mosque and made my way through the awakening city, the rising sun casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.
[EXT. PALACE - DAWN]
Arriving at the palace, he was met with a sight that filled me with dread. The Sultan, flanked by his courtiers and advisors, addressed a gathering crowd.
Sultan: (Addressing the crowd with gravitas) Malacca faces a grave threat. The Portuguese armada has set sail, their sights set on our city. We must prepare for the impending siege.
The realization hit them like a thunderbolt. The peace they had found in Malacca was now shattered, replaced by the looming shadow of war.
Courtier 1: (Whispering hurriedly) What can we do? How can we defend against such a formidable force?
Courtier 2: We must rely on our brave warriors. They will lead us to victory.
Captain Rahmat: Arm every guard. To the storehouse, immediately!
Amir: (Moving swiftly towards the exit) Lets go quickly.
Syafiq: We need to prepare the cannons on the city walls.
[EXT. STREETS - DAWN]
Guard 1: (Running towards the bridge) Hurry! We must reach the storehouse.
Guard 2: (Slowing down as they approach the bridge) Look, the bridge... it's destroyed!
Amir: (Voice trembling) How could this have happened?
Captain Rahmat: (Angry and desperate) It's sabotage! Someone anticipated our moves.
Hffyl: (Surveying the wreckage) We're cut off from most of our weapons. Our defenses are now severely limited.
Imran: We need to act quickly. The enemy won't wait for us.
Captain Rahmat: (Urging the group) Use whatever weapons we have at hand. Everything counts.
Meanwhile, back in the palace, the Sultan of Malacca had been informed of the disastrous bridge collapse. His visage, usually composed, now bore a grim seriousness.
Sultan: (Weariness evident in his voice) Prepare the city. The enemy is already among us.
[EXT. SEA DEFENSIVE WALLS - DAWN]
Hffyl: (Gazing into the distance.) They're here. The Portuguese fleet approaches.
Syafiq: (Joining Hffyl) They've formed a blockade. The city is under siege.
Amir: (Pointing towards the skirmishes, voice laced with frustration) Look at the clashes already in motion. Our boats engage with the Portuguese vanguard, but we lack the firepower we need.
Hffyl: (Voice heavy with frustration) The collapse of the bridge cost us the bulk of our Ottoman cannons. We're at a disadvantage.
Captain Rahmat: (Emerging) We might have limited artillery, but we won't let that deter us. Prepare the few cannons we have at the gate. We'll make every shot count.
Imran: (Breathless, voice urgent) The city is gripped with fear. We must boost their morale.
Hffyl: (Nodding) We'll defend our city with all our might.
Amir: (Offering a temporary plan) For now, we hold our positions, repel their advances, and await a favorable opportunity.
The distant rumble of cannons punctuated the tense air, while tendrils of smoke from the sea skirmishes painted a grim backdrop. The defense of Malacca had truly begun.
The clamor of battle was deafening, with shouts of commands echoing through the chaos and the thundering roar of cannons rattling the very foundation of Malacca's walls. Hffyl moved to a vantage point to get a clearer view of the enemy's movements.
It was then, in the midst of the smoke and disarray, that he caught sight of a figure moving stealthily toward him. The silhouette was outlined by the sporadic flashes from the ongoing artillery exchange, revealing a man whose gaze was fixed solely on Hffyl.
His face was obscured by a bandana, with only his cold, calculating eyes visible. His attire was distinctly Portuguese, and in his hand, he held a gleaming cutlass, its blade catching the dim light as he brandished it threateningly.
Hffyl instinctively drew his own weapon, the recently gifted parang lading, which emanated a faint, reassuring glow from its handle. This would be a duel.
The mysterious man, without warning, lunged forward, his cutlass swiping in a deadly arc, parried with Hffyl's machete. Each seeking an opening and a split-second advantage over the other.
Mysterious Man: (in Portuguese) Ah, the "fallen child" shows his true colors. You won't be able to protect your city for much longer.
Hffyl knew that this is secluded spot, away from his allies. He had to outmaneuver this opponent, for there was no telling how many others lay in wait.
Hffyl: (Parrying the attack, voice filled with defiance) I will not falter. I will not yield.
Mysterious Man: (Smirking) We shall see, won't we?
Hffyl's allies approach, their voices growing louder.
Mysterious Man: (Realizing his escape is imminent) Until next time.
The mysterious man slips away into the shadows, leaving Hffyl in frustration.
Syafiq: (Out of breath, concern evident in his voice) Are you alright, boy? That was a close call.
Hffyl: (Catching his breath, voice steady) I'm fine. But who was that?
Imran: (Shaking his head) No clue. But one thing's for certain, he's not one of ours.
Captain Rahmat: (Approaching with a stern demeanor, voice commanding) This isn't over. We cannot afford to be distracted. We need to finish the skirmish and regroup. Hffyl, stay closer this time.
Hffyl: (Nodding) Of course, Captain.
Amir: (Rallying the group) Let's show them the strength of Malacca! Let's send them back to where they came from or sunk them to the bottom of the sea!
Syafiq: (Cheering, voice filled with motivation) For Malacca!
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Original version (a bit outdated. recommended to not read)
Inside the Portuguese war council chamber, a heavy air of frustration clung to the walls. Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque, his face etched with determination, addressed his officers. Maps of Malacca's defenses and trade routes lay strewn across the table, chronicling their previous failed attempts to conquer the city.
"Gentlemen," Afonso began, "our previous forays into Malacca have been met with failure. The Sultanate's defenses are more formidable than we anticipated, and their naval power has thwarted our advances."
Captain Diago Mendes de Vasconcelos, a battle-hardened officer, offered his thoughts. "The city's walls seem impenetrable, and their mastery of naval warfare has kept us at bay."
Antonio de Abreu, a seasoned navigator, added his perspective. "Even our efforts to disrupt their trade routes have done little more than provoke fiercer resistance."
Rui Nunes da Cunha, a resourceful strategist, weighed in. "Our current tactics are not working. We must think differently and act decisively."
As they contemplated their options, the atmosphere grew tense. Suddenly, the chamber's door creaked open, and a mysterious figure cloaked in darkness entered.
The officers exchanged curious glances, wary of the enigmatic newcomer.
Afonso de Albuquerque's voice carried a hint of suspicion as he inquired, "Who are you, and what is the meaning of this intrusion?"
The mysterious figure, shrouded in secrecy, responded with an air of mystique, "I possess knowledge of the Sultanate's secrets, and I bear a plan that could alter the course of this war. However, my assistance comes at a cost."
Diago Mendes leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Go on."
The mysterious figure drew nearer, eyes gleaming with intrigue, and whispered, "All I require is safe passage out of this city when the time is right. In exchange, I shall reveal a vulnerability in Malacca's defenses, one they themselves remain oblivious to."
Antonio de Abreu expressed doubt, asking, "How can we trust you, stranger?"
A wry smile curved the lips of the mysterious figure as they replied, "Trust is a luxury neither of us can afford. The sands of time are running out, and Malacca grows stronger with each passing day. Will you hear my proposition?"
A contemplative silence enveloped the room as the Portuguese officers grappled with the enigmatic stranger's tantalizing offer.
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The first light of dawn painted the sky, signaling the start of another day in Malacca. Hffyl, as had become his routine, made his way to the mosque for the Fajr prayer. The mosque's minaret reached toward the heavens, its call to prayer echoing through the tranquil morning air.
Among the faithful who had gathered in the mosque, Hffyl stood, seeking solace and connection in his devotion. They were a diverse group, bound together by their faith, standing shoulder to shoulder as the Imam's voice resonated through the hallowed halls, reciting the verses of praise and submission.
During the prayer, a profound sense of peace enveloped Hffyl. He felt a deep connection to this land, its people, and the faith they shared. It was a moment of tranquility amid the tumultuous times he had come to know.
However, as the prayer concluded, a murmur of concern rippled through the congregation. The mosque's caretaker approached Hffyl, his face etched with worry.
"Hffyl," the caretaker whispered urgently, "something has happened. The city is abuzz with news. You should head to the palace quickly."
Hffyl's heart quickened as he left the mosque, the serenity of the prayer now replaced by an unsettling sense of urgency. He made his way through the awakening city, the rising sun casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.
Arriving at the palace, he was met with a sight that filled him with dread. The Sultan, flanked by his courtiers and advisors, addressed a gathering crowd. The atmosphere was tense, and the Sultan's words carried a weight that sent shivers through the onlookers.
"Malacca faces a grave threat," the Sultan declared with gravitas. "The Portuguese armada has set sail, their sights set on our city. We must prepare for the impending siege."
The realization hit Hffyl like a thunderbolt. The peace he had found in Malacca was now shattered, replaced by the looming shadow of war. The fate of the city and its people hung in the balance, and he knew that he would play a crucial role in the battles to come.
As the city braced itself for the impending storm, Hffyl couldn't help but wonder if this was the moment that would finally lead him back to his own time.
The palace hall of Malacca buzzed with anxiety as court officials, nobles, and military officers gathered. They whispered hurriedly among themselves, casting furtive glances towards the trio of Hffyl, Amir, and Syafiq. Captain Rahmat's voice, tinged with urgency, cut through the murmurs.
"We must arm every guard. To the storehouse, immediately!"
As Amir and Syafiq moved in sync, swiftly heading towards the exit, Hffyl's concern was palpable. "I'm coming with you."
"Just stay close," Syafiq shot back, his tone filled with an underlying worry.
The urgency in the hall soon spilled out into the city. The guards sprinted towards the bridge leading to the storehouse, but as they neared, their pace slackened to a stunned halt. The once sturdy bridge was now a mangled mess of shattered wood and splinters.
Amir's voice trembled, "How could this have happened?"
"It's sabotage!" Captain Rahmat's voice held notes of both anger and desperation. "Someone anticipated our moves."
Hffyl surveyed the wreckage. "We're cut off from most of our weapons. Our defenses are now severely limited."
"We must find another way," Syafiq declared, determination evident in his eyes.
Just then, from the peripherals, Imran emerged, hilariously overwhelmed by a horde of playful cats that clung to him. "We need to act quickly. The enemy won't wait for us," he exclaimed, though his current situation with the cats seemed a tad ironic.
With the gravity of the situation bearing down on them, Captain Rahmat urged, "Use whatever weapons we have at hand. Everything counts."
Meanwhile, back in the palace, the Sultan of Malacca had been informed of the disastrous bridge collapse. His visage, usually composed, now bore a grim seriousness.
"Prepare the city," he commanded, "The enemy is already among us."
High atop Malacca's imposing city walls, Hffyl peered into the distance, a cold dread gripping him as the Portuguese insignias on the sails became evident. The grandeur of the approaching fleet cast a shadow over the waters, signaling a blockade.
"They're here. The Portuguese fleet," he announced, the weight of the situation evident in his tone.
Syafiq, joining him at the vantage point, assessed the scenario. "And they've formed a blockade. They're sieging the city."
Pointing towards the skirmishes already in motion between Malacca's boats and the Portuguese vanguard, Amir added, "The preliminary clashes have already begun."
Hffyl's voice held an edge of frustration, "We're outmatched in firepower. The collapse of that bridge cost us the bulk of the Ottoman cannons."
Emerging with a resolute stance, Captain Rahmat declared, "We might have limited artillery, but we'll ensure every shot counts. Prepare the few cannons we have at the gate."
Rushing to join them, a panting Imran informed, "The city is in turmoil, and fear is rampant. We must boost their morale."
Nodding in agreement, Hffyl asserted, "We will stand united. We'll defend our city to our last breath."
Syafiq, ever the optimist, countered, "Their blockade might be formidable, but our spirit is indomitable. Malacca won't fall easily."
"We need a strategy," Hffyl mused. "We must find a way to break their siege."
Amir chimed in, "For now, we hold our positions, repel their advances, and await a favorable opportunity."
As their discussions continued, the distant rumble of cannons punctuated the tense air, while tendrils of smoke from the sea skirmishes painted a grim backdrop. The defense of Malacca had truly begun.
The clamor of battle was deafening, with shouts of commands echoing through the chaos and the thundering roar of cannons rattling the very foundation of Malacca's walls. Amidst the turmoil, Hffyl found himself momentarily isolated, having moved to a vantage point to get a clearer view of the enemy's movements.
It was then, in the midst of the smoke and disarray, that he caught sight of a figure moving stealthily toward him. The silhouette was outlined by the sporadic flashes from the ongoing artillery exchange, revealing a man whose gaze was fixed solely on Hffyl.
As the distance between them closed, Hffyl could discern more of the mysterious assailant. His face was obscured by a bandana, with only his cold, calculating eyes visible. His attire was distinctly Portuguese, and in his hand, he held a gleaming cutlass, its blade catching the dim light as he brandished it threateningly.
A rush of adrenaline surged through Hffyl, and he instinctively drew his own weapon, the recently gifted parang lading, which emanated a faint, reassuring glow from its handle. The two adversaries locked eyes, each assessing the other, their intentions clear. This would be a duel, a test of skill and nerve, far from the main skirmish but no less perilous.
The mysterious man, without warning, lunged forward, his cutlass swiping in a deadly arc. Hffyl, his training kicking in, parried with his parang, the clash of metal resonating through the air. The two fought in a deadly waltz amidst the backdrop of war, each seeking an opening, a split-second advantage over the other.
Hffyl knew that in this secluded spot, away from his allies, the stakes were higher than ever. He had to outmaneuver this opponent, for there was no telling how many others lay in wait. The sounds of their duel, the swift movements and clashing of blades, became the world for Hffyl, as the siege of Malacca raged on around them.
The fierce clash between Hffyl and the mysterious man continued on the city wall. Their blades met in a flurry of strikes, each move precise and calculated. As the duel reached its climax, the sounds of shouting and the approach of allies grew louder, echoing off the walls.
"Stay focused," Hffyl muttered to himself, trying to anticipate the mysterious man's next move.
But the stranger had other plans. With a sudden burst of agility, he lunged forward, aiming a final strike at Hffyl. However, it wasn't a killing blow. Instead, it created a momentary distraction, allowing the man to slip away into the shadows.
Hffyl's allies, now drawing near, shouted in unison, their voices a mix of concern and determination.
"Hold on, Hffyl!"
The mysterious man, realizing he had been discovered and his mission thwarted, cast one last menacing look at Hffyl before vanishing into the labyrinthine alleys of Malacca.
"Until next time," he whispered under his breath, his intentions shrouded in mystery.
Syafiq, out of breath, was the first to reach Hffyl's side. "Are you alright, Hffyl?" he inquired, concern evident in his voice.
Catching his breath, Hffyl replied, "I'm fine. But who was that?"
Imran, still bearing minor scratches from his recent misadventures with the city's feline population, joined the duo. "No clue," he said, shaking his head, "but he's definitely not one of ours."
Captain Rahmat, having observed the scene from a distance, promptly approached, his demeanor stern. "This isn't over. We need to finish the skirmish and regroup. Hffyl, you stick with us."
Hffyl nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course."
Amir, rallying the group, declared, "Let's send them back to where they came from!"
Syafiq, ever the motivator, cheered, "For Malacca!"