The sky above Borobudur Temple looked ordinary that morning, blue, peaceful, and untouched by storms. Amid the crowds of tourists busy taking selfies and tour guides speaking without pause, one figure stood motionless, staring at the largest stupa at the top of the temple.
Muhammad Raka, a final-year history student at the University of Indonesia, stood upright with shining eyes. In his left hand, he held an old notebook, the handwritten notes of his late grandfather, an archaeologist whose obsession with Javanese myths had often been dismissed by academics as nothing more than nonsense.
"Beneath the shadow of the Buddha statue, the door between worlds will open when the ancestral heritage is summoned by a pure heart."
That was the content of the note, written in ancient Javanese and ending with a strange symbol that could not be found in any known literature.
At first, Raka did not believe it. But there was something about those words that echoed deep within his heart. He felt… summoned.
Since childhood, he had never been able to distance himself from folklore, wayang performances, and traditional ceremonies. To him, they were not merely bedtime stories.
They were a living heritage. Suddenly, the wind stopped. Time seemed to freeze. Then the ground began to tremble.
The stupa before him emitted a soft golden light. The mysterious symbol from his grandfather's notebook appeared in the air, glowing like a sacred flame that gave off no heat.
Raka took a step back. His eyes widened.
"Wh-what is this...?"
And that was when the world began to collapse.
The sky split apart, torn open by a deep crimson light like a wound in the heavens. People screamed. But their voices slowly faded, replaced by a chant… an ancient song that sounded like a Javanese hymn, echoing from an unknown place.
Raka's body was pulled into a strange wind and lifted into the air. He tried to resist, but his body no longer obeyed him.
Before everything went dark, he heard a voice inside his mind, calm, deep, and filled with authority.
"Your time has come, heir of Nusantara. Another world is calling you."
Then, everything around him turned black.
When Raka opened his eyes again, he was no longer at Borobudur.
Before him stretched a vast grassland beneath a purple sky, with two moons hanging overhead. In the distance, a silver dragon soared through the air.
This world was not Indonesia. It was not Earth.
It was something else. Something… that had been waiting for him for a very long time.