The sharp stench of disinfectant, antiseptic wash, and medical sedation pierced Zulfa's senses the moment consciousness slowly clawed its way back. His throat felt completely parched—like dried coconut husks left baking under a blistering sun—and every time he tried to draw breath, a searing, agonizing pain stabbed through his chest. The lingering bruises from the shadow entity’s grip in the subterranean control room still bloomed into an ugly, dark purple beneath a thick layer of medical bandages.

Zulfa blinked his heavy eyelids repeatedly, fighting to clear the blurred fog clouding his vision. Overhead, a blindingly white emergency medical tent lamp cast a harsh glow, humming constantly alongside a chaotic wall of noise outside: the thrum of military helicopters landing in rotation, the shouted orders of rushing medical staff, and the crisp, rhythmic crunch of combat boots marching across the open field.

He tried to move his hand to clutch his chest or search for his ancestral logbook, but the motion was instantly cut short by the heavy clank of metal.

Clink!

Zulfa turned his head slowly to the right. His right wrist had been locked tightly inside a heavy steel cuff chained permanently to the tubular iron frame of the field hospital cot.

"Awake, Engineer?"

A cold, flat baritone voice shattered Zulfa's hazy daze.

Zulfa snapped his head stiffly to the left. Sitting on an olive-green military folding chair, an officer in full camo fatigues bearing major's rank insignia on his shoulders watched his every move. Flanking the major, two heavily armed soldiers with assault rifles slung across their chests stood stiff as stone statues, their gazes locked straight onto Zulfa through their tactical helmet visors with unyielding suspicion.

Zulfa swallowed hard, his voice coming out raspy and cracked. "Wh—where am I? Where's Naya?"

The military major didn't answer immediately. He slowly folded a stack of paper documents in his hands, then crossed his legs with calculated elegance. His face was weathered and hard, marked by a small scar near his left temple—the classic look of a field officer who despised small talk.

"You are in Sector 1 Emergency Medical Tent, the central military quarantine zone erected directly over the ruins of the Central Public Square," the major answered in an icy tone. "As for your female companion—the intern named Naya—she managed to slip away when our extraction teams pulled the two of you out of the sub-surface emergency drainage pipeline. But rest assured, her facial ID has been blanketed across every national checkpoint. She won't be hiding for long."

Zulfa felt his heart skip a beat. Naya made it out, he thought, a shred of relief washing over him amid the unfolding crisis. Yet that relief was instantly swallowed by a crushing wave of panic as he realized his current predicament.

"I'm not a fugitive..." Zulfa wheezed, struggling against the cuffs even as the cold steel bit into his skin. "You're making a mistake, Major. Aethel Corp... they're the masterminds behind all of this! They're the ones who ripped open that dimensional rift!"

The major let out a cynical snort, shaking his head slowly. "Aethel Corp is a state defense strategic partner, Engineer Arditama. They supply the primary power grid for this entire metropolis. And the official report we received from Director Vian Pratama states the exact opposite."

"He's lying!" Zulfa shouted half-hysterically, his breathing turning ragged until his chest flared with sharp pain anew. "He and their board of directors deliberately harvested extradimensional energy and sacrificed citizens! I have proof—a journal—"

"Enough!"

The major barked out a thunderous command that echoed through the cramped medical tent, causing the two armed guards beside him to instantly steady their rifle grips.

The major stood up from his folding chair, smoothed the lapels of his military uniform, and took a thick, state-stamped document folder from his adjutant near the tent flap. He marched over to Zulfa’s cot, towering over the youth with a deeply condescending glare.

"You possess zero proof beyond the delusional scrawls of an engineer suffering from mental instability brought on by sub-level gas poisoning," the major stated sharply.

He flipped open the document folder and began reading in a formal, emotionless monotone:

"In the name of national defense emergency laws and public order protection... Zulfa Arditama, employee of Sector 4 Municipal Public Works, is hereby formally charged with acts of domestic terrorism, sabotage of vital state facilities, large-scale destruction of public infrastructure, and the illegal possession of explosives that triggered the micro-quake disaster in the central district."

Zulfa froze, staring at the major with eyes blown wide. "Terrorism?! You're flipping the narrative that blatantly?!"

"This isn't flipping the narrative, Arditama. This is an official state decision to preserve national stability from public panic," the major replied without an ounce of pity, snapping the document folder shut with a sharp tap. "You are officially designated as our most dangerous high-profile fugitive at large."

Before Zulfa could retort or launch into another protest, the medical tent flap behind the major parted wide.

A man dressed in a sleek, pitch-black suit with a crimson red tie—looking utterly alien amid a military camp caked in dust and mud—strode inside with firm, commanding steps. Pinned to his suit lapel was a tiny silver-serpent emblem gleaming under the tent lighting.

The sharply dressed man stopped right beside the major, sliding one hand into his trouser pocket before flashing a thin, cold, and terrifying smile down at Zulfa lying on the iron bed.

"Good morning, Engineer," the man greeted in a calm voice laced with buried malice. "Glad to see you're still breathing after yesterday's little fireworks show down below. Allow me to introduce myself: I am a special envoy sent directly from the supreme board of directors."

Zulfa stared at the man with murderous eyes, his jaw clenched tight against the boiling rage surging within his chest.