The night was thick with the scent of rain, and the old wooden house at the edge of the village was eerily quiet. Aina Batrisya stood at the doorway, her heart pounding like a war drum. The dim oil lamp flickered, casting shadows on the walls adorned with ancient silat weapons—krises, spears, and kerambits passed down through generations.
Her grandfather, Tok Hassan, lay weak on the woven mat, his breathing shallow. His once-powerful hands, hands that had trained warriors, now trembled as he reached for Aina's wrist.
"Aina... your time has come," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Aina clenched her fists. She was only seventeen, a girl who had spent her life torn between two worlds—her late Chinese mother's teachings of balance and patience, and her grandfather's strict silat training filled with discipline and fire. But she had never expected to inherit his legacy so soon.
CRACK.
A deafening thunderclap shook the house. The air grew heavy, as if unseen eyes were watching.
Tok Hassan's grip tightened. His one good eye gleamed with urgency.
"Listen to me, cucuku... The Persatuan Gerhana has begun their search. They have taken the Gendang Pahang. If they find the rest of the Seven Artefacts, darkness will consume our land."
Aina swallowed hard. She had heard the legends. The Gendang Pahang, an ancient war drum, was said to channel the spirits of fallen warriors. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could summon power beyond control.
Her grandfather coughed, and blood stained his lips.
"You must find Tok Rimau in Langkawi... He will teach you what I could not. And you must beware—Rahim Tempurung will be hunting you."
Aina's chest tightened. Rahim Tempurung. The name alone carried whispers of death. A former archaeologist, now the ruthless leader of the Persatuan Gerhana, wielding a mechanical hand fitted with keris-like claws. He was obsessed with reviving Gangga Negara, the lost kingdom of warriors.
The storm outside raged, but inside, everything was silent.
Tok Hassan exhaled his last breath.
The oil lamp flickered—and went out.
Aina, now alone in the darkness, felt the weight of her destiny pressing on her shoulders. The Pendekar Matahari Senja had awoken.
And her battle had just begun.