(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. CELL ROOM - PORTUGUESE VESSEL]
Hffyl woke up, finding himself chained by shackles.
Hffyl: (Struggling to break free)
Prisoner: (Weary rasp) Save your strength, friend. Those chains are unbreakable.
Hffyl: (Turning his head, squinting in the dim light) Who are you?
Awang: (Sighing heavily) I am Awang. Like you, I once stood among the defenders of Malacca.
Hffyl: (Heart sinking) Once? What happen then?
Awang: (Nodding solemnly) The city has fallen, my friend. The Portuguese broke through our defenses. Many of us were captured, and the rest... they likely face execution.
Hffyl: I fought alongside these men, and now we're all in chains.
Awang: (Feeble smile) The Portuguese are merciless. They blocked our rice supply, starved us, and forced us to eat snakes and worms. When they entered, they offered a reward for any Portuguese who killed Malay men or married Malay women for conversion.
Hffyl: What about the Sultan? Is he safe?
Awang: Yes, the Sultan managed to retreat from the city. He's alive and plotting to reclaim Malacca someday. But he had to fight the invaders himself, as many hired soldiers from different kingdoms fled.
Hffyl: It's good to know that he's still breathing. Though, who leads these Portuguese invaders?
Awang: (Expression growing grave) The man in charge is Admiral Afonso. He's cunning and ruthless. They attacked the mosque during Fajr prayers and burned the bridge connecting it to the armory. But from what I've heard, he won't stay in Malacca for long. He just come in for the conquest and leaves.
Hffyl: (Narrowing his eyes) Afonso... I'll remember that. But if he's so focused on Malacca, why would he leave?
Awang: (Leaning in closer) Rumors suggest he has bigger ambitions. He may appoint someone else as 'The Governor' to oversee. Afonso's sights are set on broader horizons.
Hffyl: (Furrowing his brow) The Governor... Do you know anything about him?
Awang: (Shaking his head) Not much, I'm afraid. I heard he was once imprisoned by the Sultan of Malacca before the Portuguese conquest. The Portuguese keep his identity and plans secret. But if he takes charge of Malacca, we can expect more challenges ahead.
Ship Guard: (in Portuguese) Silêncio! No more talking!
[INT. PORTUGUESE SHIP - IMPROMPTU COURTROOM - DAY]
The ship's hull has been transformed into a makeshift courtroom, with The Governor sitting at the head, surrounded by his officers and advisors. The room is dimly lit by lanterns, casting eerie shadows. Hffyl, flanked by guards, is brought to the center, his hands bound.
Rui de Araújo: (Sternly) You have been found guilty of sinking the supply ship and rebelling against the Portuguese Empire.
Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque: Your fate has been decided. You are to be hanged until death. A symbol for all those who oppose us.
Rui de Araújo: (Rising from his seat, voice booming) Take him away! Prepare the gallows. Let the people witness the consequences of rebellion.
Guard: (Grabbing Hffyl roughly, voice gruff) Move, prisoner. Your fate awaits.
The room falls silent, save for the creaking of the ship and the distant sound of waves.
[INT. PORTUGUESE SHIP - ISOLATION CELL - NIGHT]
Hffyl is thrown into a small, damp cell with barely enough room to move. The only source of light is a small, barred window high up on the wall, out of reach. The stone floor is cold and unforgiving. The sounds of the sea echo hauntingly in the distance.
Hffyl: (Whispering to himself) "I must find a way out."
He looks around, searching for any possible means of escape, but the walls are solid, and the heavy iron door is securely locked. The weight of his impending fate weighs heavily on him, and he sinks to the floor, deep in thought.
Hffyl: (muttered) I... can't believe it. Is this how it ends? Stuck in time, going to get tortured and killed? I just wish to see my family again...
[INT. PORTUGUESE OCCUPIED AREA - MALACCA - MORNING]
A large crowd gathers, their murmurs creating a low hum in the occupied area. Portuguese flags flutter overhead, dominating the skyline of Malacca. In the center, a gallows stands ominously, casting a long shadow in the morning sun.
Executioner: (In clear view of the crowd, tightening the noose.)
Rui de Araújo: (To Afonso, not far from the gallows, in hushed Portuguese but subtitled for understanding) This will send a clear message to all those uncivilized barbarians.
Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque: (Glancing at Hffyl, then back to Rui de Araújo, subtitled)
Rui de Araújo: (Nods, subtitled) Safe travels, Admiral. Make sure this rebel serves as a lesson. Thank you, again, for freeing me out of the cell.
Hffyl casts a defiant look towards Rui de Araújo and Afonso. His resolve seems to affect some of the local onlookers, who whisper among themselves.
Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque: (Raising a hand in farewell, subtitled) Ensure order here, Governor. Malacca is a jewel for the empire now.
Rui de Araújo nods as Afonso departs from the scene, his entourage in tow.
Executioner: (Loudly, for all to hear, switching to Malay for the locals' understanding) Behold the fate of those who defy the might of the Portuguese Empire!
As the noose is placed around Hffyl's neck, a tense hush falls over the crowd.
*Explosion*
A coordinated attack, led by Hffyl's comrades and the resilient people of Malacca, caught the Portuguese soldiers off guard.
Rebel Leader: (Raising his musket high) "For Malacca! Fire!"
A volley of musket shots rang out, the deafening cracks echoing through the air. Portuguese soldiers staggered, caught in the deadly hail of gunfire. The executioner fell, his grasp on the lever slipping.
Hffyl, miraculously spared, stumbled away from the gallows as the ropes fell limp around him. His comrades surged forward, and the rebellion ignited in full force.
Rebel Leader: (Shouting to the crowd) Join us! Drive these invaders from our home!
The people of Malacca, armed with muskets, handheld cannons, swords, and sheer determination, rallied behind the rebels. The occupied area became a battleground as the oppressed residents turned the tables on their oppressors.
Portuguese soldier: (Desperate) Reinforcements! We need reinforcements!
The call for help echoed through the Portuguese ranks, but it was met with fierce resistance from the rebels and the awakened city.
Rebel Fighter: (In the heat of battle) Keep pushing! Don't let them regroup!
As the fighting raged on, Portuguese soldiers found themselves surrounded, struggling to hold their ground. The people of Malacca fought with burning desire for liberation.
Malaccan Resident: (Raising a makeshift weapon) This is for our city!
The rebellion, like a wildfire, spread throughout the occupied area. The clash of steel, the thunderous boom of handheld cannons, and the constant barrage of musket fire filled the air. The battle was chaotic and intense.
Hffyl found himself standing with his comrades, a renewed sense of purpose burning within him. The fight for Malacca had only just begun.
Amidst the chaos of the battle, Hffyl's gaze locked onto a figure he had come to despise - The Governor. The Portuguese official stood tall, his face a mask of arrogance and authority, as he took aim with his wheellock pistol.
The crack of the pistol reverberated through the air, and a rebel fighter cried out in pain as he fell, struck by The Governor's shot.
Rui de Araújo: Stand your ground! Hold them off!
The Governor barked orders to his remaining men before turning to retreat.
But Hffyl was on the move. He darted through the crowd, eyes fixed on The Governor's fleeting form. The chase was on.
The Governor, realizing he was being pursued, increased his pace, weaving through narrow alleys and hurdling over obstacles. Hffyl kept close by staying above, using his knowledge of Malacca's streets to his advantage.
As they raced through the ruined streets, the thunderous roar of cannons and the crash of collapsing buildings filled the air. Rebels charged fearlessly toward the Portuguese, only to be met with musket fire and the clash of swords.
Rebel: CHARGE!
The violence around them was deafening, but Hffyl and The Governor remained locked in their deadly pursuit, oblivious to the conflict.
Hffyl leaped over fallen debris and dashed through narrow alleys. Rui de Araújo's figure, always just ahead, seemed to taunt him. The Portuguese official weaved and dodged, his panic evident despite his attempts to appear composed.
Amidst the chaos, a cannonball struck dangerously close, sending shards of stone and dust into the air. Hffyl and Rui de Araújo barely flinched, their chase continuing undeterred.
The chase led them through winding streets, past fallen comrades, and into the heart of the rebellion. Rebels fought valiantly, paying no heed to the pursuit that unfolded before them. Swords clashed, muskets fired.
With each passing moment, Hffyl closed the distance between himself and The Governor. The Portuguese official's breath grew ragged, his steps faltering as exhaustion took its toll.
In a final, desperate lunge, Hffyl closed the gap and, with unyielding resolve, struck down The Governor.
Hffyl: (exhausted) Finally, I... I did it...
A searing headache overtook Hffyl, his vision blurred, and the world spun around him like a chaotic tempest. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the ground, consciousness slipping away as he descended into darkness.
...
[??? - Unknown realm - ???]
As Hffyl regained consciousness, he found himself in a disorienting and ethereal place. A dense fog enveloped the surroundings, obscuring his vision while casting an eerie glow, making it difficult to discern his location. In the distance, he spotted an incongruous sight, a playground slide, its vibrant colors standing out amidst the mist.
He tried to make sense of this strange place. It was as if he had been transported to another realm, disconnected from the world he knew.
He turned, and there, emerging from the fog, was the figure he thought he had vanquished - The Governor.
Rui de Araújo: (Sarcasm) You got me good, don't you?
Hffyl: Aye, O governador.
Rui de Araújo: Não esperava isso. (I didn't expect that.)
Hffyl: Neither did I. I did what was necessary.
Rui de Araújo: Do you really think my death will stop anything? I am but a pawn.
Hffyl: Then if you are the pawn in this chess, who's the king?
The Governor took out a small, intricate coin from his pocket, the surface emblazoned with a symbol unfamiliar to him.
Rui de Araújo: (whispers) This symbol is very important. Descubra. (Find out.)
the fog thickening around him. And then, just as mysteriously as he appeared, The Governor vanished, leaving Hffyl alone with the coin.
In front of him, a bright mist started forming, like a doorway. Feeling unsure but curious, he took a step into the mist.
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Original version (a bit outdated. recommended to not read)
Hffyl's muscles ached with the futile effort to break free from the iron grip of his restraints. He couldn't help but grunt in frustration.
Beside him, another chained man shifted, his voice a weary rasp. "Save your strength, friend. Those chains won't yield to your will."
Hffyl turned his head toward the voice, squinting in the dim light to make out the features of the man next to him. "Who are you?"
The man sighed, his breath heavy with resignation. "I am Awang. Like you, I once stood among the defenders of Malacca."
Hffyl's heart sank as the realization dawned on him. "Once? you mean the city... has it fallen?"
Awang nodded solemnly. "Yes, my friend. The Portuguese broke through our defenses, using trade ships. Many of us were captured, and the rest... they are likely facing execution."
A cold shiver ran down Hffyl's spine. He had fought alongside these men, and now the cruel hand of fate had placed them all in chains.
"What happened?"
Awang, though wearied by his ordeal, managed a feeble smile. "The Portuguese are not known for their mercy. They'd blocked the rice supply and starved us to the point that we have to eat snakes and worms, forcing us to go out. When they entered, they give a heavy amount of price for any Portuguese that managed to kill any Malay men they found or marrying Malay women for converting them."
Hffyl's curiosity about the fate of the Sultan and the Portuguese invaders burned intensely. He leaned in closer to Awang, his voice a hushed whisper. "What about the Sultan? Is he safe?"
Awang's eyes held a glimmer of relief amid the despair. "Yes, the Sultan managed to escape the city in time. He's alive and, I believe, plotting to reclaim Malacca someday. Since many of the hired imported soldiers from the outside just ran out, the Sultan had to fight those thieves, murderers, piratic invaders themselves."
Relief washed over Hffyl. The Sultan was a symbol of hope, a rallying point for the people of Malacca.
"But who leads these Portuguese invaders?" Hffyl inquired, his gaze fixed on Awang.
Awang's expression grew grave. "The man in charge is Admiral Afonso. He's a formidable adversary, cunning and ruthless. They'd attacked the mosque during the Fajr prayers and had caused chaos, burning the bridge that connects the mosque and also the bridges that connects to the armory. But from what I've heard among the crew, he won't stay in Malacca for long."
Hffyl's eyes narrowed, trying to commit the name to memory. "Afonso... I'll remember that. But if he's so intent on Malacca, why would he leave?"
Awang leaned in closer, his voice hushed. "Rumors are that he has bigger ambitions than just our city. He may have taken Malacca, but he'll likely appoint someone else to govern here. They call the position 'The Governor'. Afonso's sights are set on broader horizons."
Hffyl furrowed his brow in thought. "The Governor... Do you know anything about him?"
Awang shook his head. "Not much, I'm afraid. The Portuguese are tight-lipped about his identity and plans. But if he's to take charge of Malacca, we can expect more challenges ahead."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. A Portuguese guard, clad in armor and brandishing a musket, appeared before them, a stern expression on his face. It was clear that any further discussion would have to wait for another time.
In the bowels of the Portuguese ship, the darkened hull was transformed into a makeshift courtroom. The dim illumination from hanging lanterns threw eerie shadows that danced with the ship's sway. At the center of it all sat The Governor, an imposing figure surrounded by his officers and advisors. Their combined presence was oppressive, filling the space with an air thick with tension.
Hffyl, his hands bound, was ushered in by guards, each step echoing ominously. As he reached the center, The Governor's voice cut through the silence, cold and stern.
"You have been found guilty of sinking the supply ship and rebelling against the Portuguese Empire," he declared, eyes fixed on Hffyl.
From the side, Admiral Afonso, equally menacing, added, "Your fate has been decided. You are to be hanged until death. A symbol for all those who oppose us."
The weight of their words hung in the air, the only other sound being the ship's creaking and the distant lapping of waves against the hull.
Later, Hffyl found himself in a damp, confining cell. The small barred window above was the only source of dim light, leaving most of the chamber in shadows. The sea's haunting echoes seemed louder here, a constant reminder of his bleak circumstances.
Whispering to himself, a determined voice broke the silence, "I must find a way out."
He scrutinized every inch of his prison — the solid walls, the cold stone floor, the iron-clad door — but hope seemed distant. Sinking to the floor, Hffyl felt the weight of impending doom, but deep within, a flicker of determination still burned.
In the heart of occupied Malacca, a crowd gathered, anticipation and dread palpable in the air. The once-proud city was now overshadowed by the fluttering banners of the Portuguese, their crimson crosses a stark contrast to the azure sky. At the focal point of this assembly stood a gallows, its ominous shadow seeming longer in the glaring morning sun.
The executioner, a broad-shouldered man with a dark countenance, tightened the noose. His actions were deliberate, meant to instill fear in the throng that watched.
"This will send a clear message to all those uncivilized barbarians," the Governor whispered in Portuguese to Afonso, their conversation a secretive murmur amidst the hum of the crowd. They stood at a respectable distance from the execution ground, close enough to witness but far enough to maintain their stature.
"Indeed," Afonso replied, casting a brief, almost indifferent glance at Hffyl. "After this, I head to the Spice Islands. The empire's reach grows ever longer."
The Governor nodded in agreement, his eyes tracking Afonso's movements. "Safe travels, Admiral. Make sure this 'Srikandi' pirate serves as a lesson."
Hffyl, despite the weight of the chains that bound him and the imminent threat of the noose, held his head high. His gaze locked onto the Governor and Afonso, defiance burning in his eyes. This silent display of resilience seemed to ripple through the crowd, igniting murmurs of respect and, perhaps, inspiration.
Raising his hand in a brief salute, Afonso signaled his departure. "Ensure order here, Governor. Malacca is a jewel for the empire now."
With Afonso's silhouette retreating, the focus returned to the grim spectacle at hand. The executioner, sensing the weight of the crowd's gaze upon him, raised his voice. "Behold the fate of those who defy the might of the Portuguese Empire!" he declared in Malay.
The noose was placed around Hffyl's neck, and a hushed stillness blanketed the scene. The gravity of the moment — the clashing of empires, cultures, and destinies — was felt by every soul in attendance.
As Hffyl stood there, the noose around his neck, his fate hanging by a thread, the sudden eruption of chaos shattered the tense silence. A coordinated attack, led by Hffyl's comrades and the resilient people of Malacca, caught the Portuguese soldiers off guard.
"For Malacca! Fire!" shouted the rebel leader, raising his musket high.
A volley of musket shots rang out, the deafening cracks echoing through the air. Portuguese soldiers staggered, caught in the deadly hail of gunfire. The executioner fell, his grasp on the lever slipping.
Hffyl, miraculously spared, stumbled away from the gallows as the ropes fell limp around him. His comrades surged forward, and the rebellion ignited in full force.
"Join us! Drive these invaders from our home!" the rebel leader shouted to the crowd.
The people of Malacca, armed with muskets, handheld cannons, swords, and sheer determination, rallied behind the rebels. The occupied area became a battleground as the oppressed residents turned the tables on their oppressors.
"Reinforcements! We need reinforcements!" cried out a desperate Portuguese soldier.
The call for help echoed through the Portuguese ranks, but it was met with fierce resistance from the rebels and the awakened city.
"Keep pushing! Don't let them regroup!" yelled a rebel fighter in the heat of battle.
As the fighting raged on, Portuguese soldiers found themselves surrounded, struggling to hold their ground. The people of Malacca fought with a fervor born of desperation and a burning desire for liberation.
"This is for our city! For our future!" shouted a Malaccan resident, raising a makeshift weapon.
The rebellion, like a wildfire, spread throughout the occupied area. The clash of steel, the thunderous boom of handheld cannons, and the constant barrage of musket fire filled the air. The battle was chaotic and intense, a testament to the indomitable spirit of those who refused to be subjugated.
Amidst the chaos of the battle, Hffyl's gaze locked onto a figure he had come to despise - The Governor. The Portuguese official stood tall, his face a mask of arrogance and authority, as he took aim with his wheellock pistol.
The crack of the pistol reverberated through the air, and a rebel fighter cried out in pain as he fell, struck by The Governor's shot. The Governor's cold indifference to the suffering he caused was chilling.
"Stand your ground! Hold them off!" The Governor barked orders to his remaining men before turning to retreat.
But Hffyl was on the move. He darted through the crowd, eyes fixed on The Governor's fleeting form. The chase was on.
The Governor, realizing he was being pursued, increased his pace, weaving through narrow alleys and hurdling over obstacles. Hffyl, driven by determination, kept close by staying above, using his knowledge of Malacca's streets to his advantage.
Through the chaos of the battle-scarred city, the relentless chase continued. Hffyl pursued The Governor with single-minded determination, the world around him a blur of destruction and defiance.
As they raced through the ruined streets, the thunderous roar of cannons and the crash of collapsing buildings filled the air. Rebels charged fearlessly toward the Portuguese, only to be met with musket fire and the clash of swords. The violence around them was deafening, but Hffyl and The Governor remained locked in their deadly pursuit, oblivious to the turmoil.
Hffyl leaped over fallen debris and dashed through narrow alleys, his focus unwavering. The Governor's figure, always just ahead, seemed to taunt him. The Portuguese official weaved and dodged, his panic evident despite his attempts to appear composed.
Amidst the chaos, a cannonball struck dangerously close, sending shards of stone and dust into the air. Hffyl and The Governor barely flinched, their chase continuing undeterred. The noise of battle was a relentless cacophony, but they pressed on.
The chase led them through winding streets, past fallen comrades, and into the heart of the rebellion. Rebels fought valiantly, paying no heed to the pursuit that unfolded before them. Swords clashed, muskets fired, and cries of defiance filled the air as the people of Malacca fought for their freedom.
With each passing moment, Hffyl closed the distance between himself and The Governor. The Portuguese official's breath grew ragged, his steps faltering as exhaustion took its toll. Hffyl knew that he was drawing closer to the reckoning he sought.
In a final, desperate lunge, Hffyl closed the gap and, with unyielding resolve, struck down The Governor, ending the chase and exacting his long-awaited revenge.
A searing headache overtook Hffyl, his vision blurred, and the world spun around him like a chaotic tempest. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the ground, consciousness slipping away as he descended into darkness, succumbing to unconsciousness once more.
As Hffyl regained consciousness, he found himself in a disorienting and ethereal place. A dense fog enveloped the surroundings, obscuring his vision while casting an eerie glow, making it difficult to discern his location. In the distance, he spotted an incongruous sight, a playground slide, its vibrant colors standing out amidst the mist.
Uncertainty gnawed at him as he tried to make sense of this strange place. It was as if he had been transported to another realm, disconnected from the world he knew. The air was thick with an otherworldly tension, like a dream trapped in a liminal state.
He turned, and there, emerging from the fog, was the figure he thought he had vanquished - The Governor. The man's presence was a haunting reminder of the past, a specter that refused to be banished.
With a chilling calmness, The Governor spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You got me good, don't you?"
Hffyl, still grappling with the ethereal reality around him, responded with firmness, "Aye, O governador."
The Governor smirked, amusement evident in his eyes. "Não esperava isso." (I didn't expect that.)
Hffyl's gaze remained unwavering. "Neither did I."
The Governor leaned in slightly, his tone becoming more somber. "Many died, Hffyl. Yet you chased me to the very end. Why?"
"Because it was necessary," Hffyl replied, determination evident in his voice.
Laughing darkly, The Governor stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. "Do you think my death will stop anything? I am but a pawn."
Hffyl, feeling the weight of The Governor's words, challenged, "Then who's the king?"
The Governor produced a small, intricate coin from his pocket, the surface emblazoned with a crest unfamiliar to Hffyl. "Descubra," (Find out.) he whispered cryptically, the fog thickening around him. And then, just as mysteriously as he appeared, The Governor vanished, leaving Hffyl alone with the coin and a myriad of unanswered questions.
Before Hffyl, a bright mist started forming, like a doorway. Feeling unsure but curious, he took a step into the mist. As he walked through it, everything around him changed. Colors swirled, shapes shifted, and it felt like he was moving between dreams and reality, heading into the unknown.