Ring! Ring! Ring!

6:00 AM no longer sounded like a death knell for time. To Arif, every chime now felt like a countdown toward an emotional bridge he was ready to cast across the islands. The moment his boots hit the cement floor of his boarding room, he wasted no time. With absolute efficiency mastered through countless trials, all office business with Pak Malik was resolved flawlessly in a mere fifteen minutes.

By precisely 8:30 AM, Arif stood outside the skyscraper with a clean legal status and three hundred million rupiah in legal severance funds safely in his account. Yet his target this time was no longer personal satisfaction. His steps moved swiftly toward the largest electronics trade center in Central Jakarta.

Arif strode into one of the main storefronts. "Miss, I'd like a smartphone with the largest screen, the best battery life, and the clearest front camera. Please also hook me up with a prepaid card featuring an unlimited data package and the strongest signal coverage for remote areas," Arif instructed, placing several crisp hundred-thousand-rupiah notes on the glass display case.

The store clerk worked with tactical speed. In no time at all, a high-end smartphone was neatly boxed alongside an activated SIM card. Arif asked for permission to unbox the device right there on the counter. With dexterous fingers, he programmed speed-dial numbers, enlarged the screen font size so it would be easily readable by his mother's aging eyes, and pinned the video-calling app right to the home screen menu.

Once everything was ready, Arif repackaged the device inside a sturdy protective box. This logistical scenario had already been perfected in his mind. Since geography limited him from returning physically within a 24-hour window, he would exploit the air-express courier network offering same-day delivery guarantees to the county seat nearest his village.

At 10:00 AM, Arif handed the package over to the express courier agency counter. "Sir, this is a surcharge fee for super-express shipping. Make sure this package arrives at the county branch office by three o'clock this afternoon," Arif insisted, slipping a wad of cash as a grease payment.

Not stopping there, Arif reached for his own cheap phone. He dialed a number retrieved from his espionage of regional employee data files at the office yesterday: the number of Mas Maman, a young village neighbor back home who worked as a motorcycle taxi driver and owned a smartphone.

"Hello, Mas Maman? It's Arif, Mom's son. I need a massive favor, Mas," Arif said the moment the connection clicked. "At three o'clock this afternoon, a package containing a brand-new phone for my mother will arrive at the county courier branch. I’ve just transferred one million rupiah to your account, Mas Maman. Please pick up that package from town, then ride straight to my mother's stilt house in the village. Please teach my mother how to use the video call app right on her home screen. Can you do that, Mas?"

On the other end, Mas Maman sounded utterly flabbergasted by the sum of money Arif had transferred for such a simple errand. "I can do that, Mas Arif! Absolutely! As it happens, I'm completely free today. Exactly at three, I'll head straight out to the county town!"

"Thank you so much, Mas. I'll wait for your update," Arif said with a deep sense of relief.

The rest of the day was spent sitting in a tranquil city park in the heart of Jakarta. Arif no longer chased flavorless luxuries. He simply sat on a park bench, watching the Jakarta sky slowly shift into fiery shades of amber as the sun dipped toward the western horizon. On his finger, the Frost Circle ring gleamed with a soothing, bluish-silver luster, radiating a constant warmth that steadied his soul.

5:45 PM.

A short text message popped up on Arif's phone from Mas Maman: "Mas Arif, I've delivered the phone to Mom. Right now, I'm sitting on the porch helping her turn on the screen. Go ahead and call her now, Mas."

Arif's heart hammered frantically. His hands shook violently from an overwhelming surge of emotion—far more nerve-wracking than when he had extorted Pak Malik days ago. Holding his breath, Arif opened the video call app on his phone, then pressed the green camera icon toward his mother's new number.

Dial tone... Dial tone...

The smartphone screen in Arif's hand displayed a spinning call icon. Seconds felt like hours.

Click.

The connection established.

The digital display wobbled for a moment, revealing the visual of a wooden porch deeply etched into Arif's memory. In the center of the screen, the face of an elderly woman with deep wrinkles and whitening hair slowly materialized, staring at the camera with a look of pure confusion mingled with absolute awe.

"Arif...? Is... is this you, son? Your face looks so crystal clear inside this glass," his mother's raspy voice drifted through, trembling via the new phone's speaker.

Arif's tears spilled over uncontrollably. For the first time throughout his years of migration in Jakarta, he didn't merely hear his mother's voice; he could gaze into the old pair of eyes that had always worried over him, witness the genuine smile he had missed so dearly, and take in the background of the modest stilt house where he was raised under a peaceful evening sky.

"Yes, Mom... It's Arif, Mom," Arif sobbed, though this time it was a weeping of profound, deep-seated joy. He flashed his best smile toward the camera, ensuring his mother saw her boy in robust health. "Do you like the new phone?"

"Oh, dear Lord, son... It's wonderful. But why did you waste money buying something this expensive for Mom? You'll run out of money, Arif..." his mother fretted, worry lines instantly carving back into her forehead—the classic anxiety of a mother who never put herself first.

"Arif has plenty of money, Mom. My official severance pay from the office cleared today. You don't need to worry about money anymore," Arif answered gently, wiping away his tears.

Through the digital screen, Arif took his mother on a "stroll" to see the ambiance of Jakarta's city park, while she showed off the front yard of their stilt house blooming with chili plants and paper flowers beneath a rural evening sky entirely free of pollution. They chatted about countless things, stripped of any lingering awkwardness or emotional boundaries. Arif listened to every single word his mother spoke with reverence, soaking in every smile and joyful sparkle radiating from the old woman's eyes.

"Arif... Mom is so happy today to see your face," his mother whispered near the end of their conversation, her eyes misting over as she stared at the screen. "Mom always prays every evening that you'll be protected out in the big city. Now Mom's mind is at ease seeing her boy healthy and successful."

"Yes, Mom. Arif is so happy too," Arif said sincerely. "Take good care of your health over there, okay? Tomorrow... tomorrow Arif will call Mom again with a video call just like this."

"Yes, son. Assalamualaikum."

"Waalaikumsalam, Mom."

The phone screen gradually darkened as the call disconnected. Arif lowered his hand, gazing out at the glowing lights of Jakarta's skyscrapers igniting all around the park. Twilight had dissolved into night.

Yet this time, no dense loneliness or emptiness ambushed his soul. Even though he knew that precisely at 12:00 AM tonight, all physical memories on the new phone in his mother's hands would reset back to an electronics store in Jakarta, Arif no longer cared.

That emotional bridge had been constructed to absolute perfection. The true warmth of his mother's twilight smile had seeped eternally into every single cell of his soul, scorching away the last remnants of his urban pride without a trace.

Arif gazed down at the Frost Circle ring on his finger, which now blazed with an intensely brilliant, pure white light—radiating a cozy warmth wrapping entirely around his body amidst the capital's nocturnal chill, fully prepared to welcome the final ticking seconds of his looping destiny.