Niskala City, Indonesia, January 1, 2022
A light drizzle fell to the ground as gray clouds hovered in the fading red glow of the setting sun on the western horizon. A cold wind swept through the jagged rocks lining the bottom of a deep ravine, where a man lay, his black leather jacket torn and soaked in blood.
He lay motionless, helpless in a pool of his own blood, the sharp, metallic scent filling the air. His head throbbed from the brutal impact against the rocks below, the wound on the back of his skull still seeping blood. With a hollow stare directed at the sky above, a quiet voice inside him whispered, "I've failed again ..."
His breathing grew softer and fainter as despair closed in around him. The weak rhythm of his heart beat sporadically, on the verge of fading away in fear, while the drizzle that hit his face slowly vanished, carried off by the cold air.
Amidst the remnants of his fading consciousness, a familiar blue holographic screen suddenly flickered into view, right before his blurred eyes, accompanied by a faint notification sound echoing in his ears.
Beep....
[System The Code Of Death – System Activation Restarting ...]
User: Derian Baskara Fajar
Gender: Male
Age: 28
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Current Status:
Level: 60
Health: 10 / 100
Mental Stability: 5 / 100
XP: 800 / 1000
Skill Points: 6
Total Points: 10
Good Karma: 2 / 10
Bad Karma: 11 / 10
Reputation: Suspected Criminal!
System Integrity: 2% (Critical Errors Detected)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[System: Checking Integrity...]
[50%... 75%...]
[Critical errors detected!]
Warning: The system is experiencing critical malfunctions!
Bad Karma points have exceeded the limit!
System Error! System Error!
Blare! Blare! Blare!
The blaring of the alarm suddenly roared in Derian's ears as the holographic blue screen shifted to a deep red, flickering rapidly for several seconds.
System: Recovery procedure is being executed automatically...
Refreshing system memory!
Note: This process will cause the user to lose some memories!
Buzzz.... Buzzz....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[System: Recovery Complete]
Errors have been fixed, but some memory data is lost. The system is now operating with limited capacity.
The fragments of his memories slowly faded, as if scenes from a film were being deliberately cut away. Soon after, the pounding in his head and the pain that tore through his body began to vanish, along with the gradual closing of his eyelids. His weakening gaze, now heavy with sadness and despair, saw nothing but emptiness.
Tears hung frozen in midair, birds halted mid-flight, and leaves caught in the wind stopped drifting. It was as if time itself—and life—had been forcibly paused in that instant. The man's soul, now fully separated from his body, was greeted by a brilliant white light as the time loop reversed and pulled him back into the past.
***
Niskala City, Indonesia, January 1, 2021
Ping!
System: Welcome back, Derian. The system is now operational, though with limitations. Some memories and functions have been lost, but I will assist you to the best of my ability. You will start over at Level 1. Focus on your tasks, and as you level up, you will gradually recover your lost memories and system features.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His eyelids slowly opened, revealing pitch-black iris clouded with confusion. He stared at the off-white ceiling for a moment, feeling strange tightness in his chest. Unlike previous hypnotherapy sessions that usually brought some sense of calm, this one left him with an unsettling feeling.
"You look even worse than before. I guess this session didn't help much... Derian, did something happen recently that triggered your trauma?"
His body slowly lifted from the sofa, and he tried to sit up straighter, pushing through the sudden wave of dizziness that rushed through his head.
A long sigh escaped him as he shook his head and glanced at the middle-aged man in his 50s sitting beside him. "No, Uncle. Nothing's happened," he said, pausing briefly, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. After a moment, he sighed again and continued, "It's just... I heard a voice before I opened my eyes."
Hearing this, the middle-aged man in the white shirt adjusted his glasses, his expression clearly puzzled as he stared at Derian. His hoarse voice broke the quiet of the room. "A voice? What kind?" asked the psychologist, Ilham, his black hair streaked with gray.
The younger man with straight black hair frowned deeper, lost in his own confusion. "A woman's voice... She said, 'Welcome back,' and some other things, but I can't seem to remember any of it. It all slipped away the moment I opened my eyes," he explained, letting out another long sigh, the discomfort weighing heavily on him.
Derian leaned back into the softness of the sofa, his sad, dim eyes drifting down to the cold white tiles beneath his feet. "I suddenly feel... strange, uneasy," he muttered. "It's like I've lost something, like I've forgotten something important... but I don't know what it is that I've lost or forgotten." His voice was low, and a distant look crept into his eyes, reflecting the confusion and emptiness that overwhelmed him.
Dr. Ilham let out a long sigh, as if he could feel the negative emotions etched on his client's face. Slowly, he removed his glasses and said, "Son, you've been really busy with cases these past few days, haven't you?" he asked with concern. Derian responded with a brief nod.
"Stress and fatigue can heighten your emotional sensitivity. Subconsciously, you might be absorbing negative energy from your work environment, which could be triggering these uncomfortable feelings. If you don't address it, it could start to take a serious toll on your mental health," he explained gently, hoping his words would be understood by the man sitting across from him.
The light-skinned man slowly adjusted his hair, his eyes still carrying the heavy weight of exhaustion. "But I'm managing, Uncle, even though the stress and fatigue from work get to me sometimes," he replied. "I just think... maybe it's time to see my psychiatrist again to talk about adjusting my medication. The dosage might need to be increased..." His voice trailed off, growing weaker with each word.
Dr. Ilham shook his head, placing a gentle hand on Derian's shoulder, concern clear in his eyes. "Son, are you still determined to keep all this from your father?" he asked softly.
A bitter smile spread across the almond-eyed man's face as he heard the familiar question—one he had been asked countless times before. And, as always, he stubbornly gave the same answer, "It has to be this way if I want to protect them ..."
The psychologist let out a long sigh, placing his glasses back on, clearly dissatisfied with the man's stubbornness after all these years of therapy.
"I'm fine, Uncle. Thank you for everything you've done for me," the dark-eyed man said softly, a hint of guilt flashing across his face as he noticed the weariness in the man he regarded as family.
Still engulfed in the depths of negativity, Derian's attention was pulled away when he felt the soft vibration of his cell phone in the pocket of his leather jacket. He slowly pulled out the device and glanced at the call notification from a contact he had saved as Mr. Grumpy Candrasa.
With a quick swipe of his finger on the green button, he answered the call, letting out a tired exhale before speaking in a gruff tone, "Hello. What's going on this time?"
"Bro! We've got a murder case with unique signature behavior!" A man's voice exclaimed from the other end of the line.
A puzzled frown instantly creased Derian's brow. "Huh? Explain it to me," he ordered.
"The perpetrator crossed out the victim's face with lipstick and left a ball at the crime scene!"