📜 READER RULES
"A Realm Where Cowards Get Lost Twice"
1. This story uses a system structure.
Not a tax system, not a coding system— a choice-based survival system.
And every choice has consequences. (Yes, even the stupid ones.)
2. You must be as honorable as a grandmaster in desert chess.
Once your finger touches a pawn—no takebacks.
No crying. No "I didn't mean it."
Live with your decision.
3. Do NOT read all paths.
You're not an omniscient deity. Choose one route and stay loyal.
If you peek at the others, the jinn will judge your commitment issues.
The protagonist's fate is now in your hands.
If they die, that's between you and your conscience.
Do not DM the author at 2 a.m. to blame the plot twist.
Confused? Terrified? Regretting your choices?
Perfect.
That means the system works.
Proceed.
6. You may laugh, scream, or re-evaluate your life choices.
You may NOT go back and redo the chapter.
This is not a dating sim.
This is destiny—with lag.
***
The bird curled on the forest floor, its trembling wings barely lifting. The glassy leg that had once been pierced by a light-arrow now bore thin fractures, reflecting blue mosslight like splintered lamps.
Rafi's stomach growled again.
Louder.
"GROOOOOUUUK…"
The forest of Dhul-Wujūd stayed dark.
No VENA.
No SAFRA.
No true ZURQ—only faraway reflections broken apart by blackened trunks.
All they heard was:
the pounding heart,
the short, ragged breaths,
and the sound of hunger demanding tribute.
Rafi swallowed.
His tongue felt dry.
His left hand held the rim of a mushroom "umbrella," his right clenched around nothing.
Beside him, Sahim crouched halfway, arms around his knees.
Both their eyes locked onto the little bird.
Silence pressed down.
"Bro…" Sahim's voice cracked, low and thin.
"…if we don't eat anything, you'll faint. And I don't have a spare back to carry you."
Rafi let out a tiny laugh—more cough than humor.
"If we eat that," he jerked his chin toward the bird, jaw tightening,
"…and it turns out it has a mother the size of a camel, we'll become kebabs."
Sahim's breath hitched. He wiped his face, fingers trembling.
"Ya Rabb… this is the most haram-feeling halal decision of my life."
Rafi's stomach answered more honestly than his mouth:
GRAAATTT—
He shut his eyes, exhaling long—almost a sob.
"Bro… Wallah, I don't want to go barbaric.
But if I pass out, you're alone here…"
His voice cracked.
Sahim hissed softly.
"Akh… that's the scariest threat today."
He lowered his gaze, touched the mushroom, then pulled a thin crystal stalk from the branch beside them—hand-length, slender, translucent, lined with dead red-gold veins inside.
It snapped hard when bent.
Crk
Sahim tested it in the air—light, but sharp at the tip, like an emergency blade. He swallowed, looking at Rafi.
"Say Bismillah first."
Rafi lowered his head, eyes red.
"Bismillah… ya Rabb… if this is wrong, forgive us.
If this is right… strengthen our hearts."
The bird didn't flee.
It simply curled tighter.
Its little glassy eyes blinked—more confused than afraid.
Sahim lifted the crystal stalk. His left hand held the bird's body gently, as if holding a fragile heart. His right hand trembled.
"Bro…" he whispered, tears gathering,
"Qul ma'aya…"
(Say it with me…)
Rafi wiped his face with a dirt-smudged palm.
"Qul… La ilaha illa Allah…"
(Ucapkan….final prayer.)
They breathed the words together.
"La ilaha illa Allah…"
Then—quick motion.
Not elegant.
Not clean.
The crystal stalk drew across the bird's neck.
No blood.
No torn flesh.
Only:
TING—TING—TING—
Like thin glass cracking all at once.
The bird shattered into drifting shards that spun through the air, reflecting blue mosslight and faint SAFRA echoes high above the canopy. Each fragment hovered briefly before collapsing like crystal snow.
At the center of the swirling pieces, something appeared:
a small oval crystal—half transparent—lined with soft silver-white threads flowing inside.
It spun slowly… then sank in the air between them.
Rafi froze.
Relief and horror tangled in his throat.
"…no meat…" his voice barely existed.
Sahim stared at his empty hands.
No bird.
No blood.
Only glimmering fragments dissolving into dust.
He exhaled—a sound like someone who failed at cruelty but also failed at survival.
"Ya Rabb… it wasn't lunch…"
The crystal pulsed once.
Softly.
Like a blink.
Rafi reached out instinctively—
The crystal shot toward his hand—click—attaching to his palm, cold like stone abandoned by night. The lines inside swirled gently.
"What… is this?"
His breath hitched. Sahim leaned closer.
"Looks like… an item drop.
But like… jin-edition."
He picked up one leftover shard and tossed it across the branch.
"But please, if you're an RPG stone," he muttered to the crystal,
"just don't be a suicide bomb."
Rafi lifted the crystal to eye level, hesitant.
"Bro, small test."
He chose a distant branch. Took a breath.
"Bismillah…"
He threw it—not hard, just like tossing a pebble. The moment it touched the air above the branch—
SWOOOP—
Silvery light unfurled—a thin net widening outward. Leaves suspended mid-fall. An insect froze mid-wingbeat. A droplet of water—who knows from where—hung like a bead on invisible thread.
Three… four… five seconds.
Then the net tightened—
—pup—
and vanished.
Everything resumed motion as if someone unpaused a video.
Sahim gaped.
"BRO…"
He pointed.
"…that's a PAUSE-BUTTON for the world. Wallahi, that was not lunch—that was a skill."
The crystal slid back into Rafi's palm like a returning boomerang. He held it with newfound reverence.
"If we'd eaten it," he whispered,
"…we'd have lost this."
Sahim nodded slowly.
"No barbarism today.
We're… slightly smarter players now."
He inhaled.
"Yalla. Back to the river. We need real food, not special effects."
The forest remained dark, but every step now had calculation.
Rafi limped, leaning heavily on Sahim's shoulder. The bow-tattoo on his arm pulsed faintly; the injured leg still stung despite the river's earlier healing. He kept the time-stop crystal clenched like an insurance policy for life itself.
Clicks of bone returned in the distance—krek… klik… krek… klik…—but not closer. Something bigger was keeping the fossil beasts busy.
The river air shifted.
Sharper.
Colder.
The low rumble of water returned between the roots.
Sahim raised a hand.
"Slow, Bro. We don't know what changed."
They crouched behind wide, dry leaves that reflected faint SAFRA glow. The river looked different now.
Some creatures were gone. Crystal footprints dotted the mud. But some remained:
The little crystal deer—once cracked—now rested by the water, sleeping softly, chest rising. Its glass-fur smooth again like polished sculpture.
The silver "mongoose" still lay by the riverbank, half awake, its breathing steady. Its body shimmered faint blue like light armor.
Over the water, vines hung glowing fruits—round, fist-sized, milky-glass skin flecked with green, veins swirling slowly within.
Near the roots, half-buried bulbs emerged from the soil—matte, unlit, contrasting everything glowing.
Sahim whispered, his fear flickering behind excitement:
"Bro… that fruit looks like rambutan shaved bald and dipped in LED lights."
Rafi whispered back:
"The bulbs in the soil… safer.
No glowing veins.
Not contaminated."
Sahim nodded.
"Na'am. We take both.
But the LED fruit—we test tiny pieces first."
They crept forward, slow as prayer. The river water was too clear—unnaturally. Tones reflected blue.
No VENA.
No SAFRA echo.
As if this place refused both.
Sahim knelt and dug around the bulb—push, twist, lift.
Pluk
A heavy, cold, meteor-potato of a vegetable.
"Bro… this is like a potato applying for NASA."
Rafi reached for the glowing fruit. The moment he touched it, the veins rippled—not wildly, just acknowledging him. He went for a second—The water shifted.
Not loudly.
But differently.
Like something enormous moving beneath.
Rafi froze.
"Bro… don't move."
Small ripples widened.
Then something emerged:
First: a flat, blade-like snout—between snake and eel.
Then: six eyes, curved like a crown, pupil-less, milky-gray and lifeless.
Its skin wasn't scale—but rings of dark glass stacked along a long body, smoke trapped between. The Ring-Serpent of Dhul-Wujūd rose above water.
No snarl.
No hiss.
It listened.
The river warmed—the serpent reading their body heat. Its six eyes fixed on their hiding place. Sahim clutched the bulb so hard his knuckles whitened.
"Bro…" breathless,
"…it knows we're here."
The serpent lifted higher. Water dripped from its rings like an old clock ticking:
Tik… tik… tik…
It opened its mouth—not like jaws, but glass-rings stretching to reveal endless dark inside. The attack hit intuition before motion.
Rafi moved before thought. Crystal in hand—ready, waiting.
"BISMILLAH!!"
He threw it—again, not hard. The moment it brushed the serpent's head—
BRINK—!!
Silver light exploded—the world snapped still.
Water hung mid-splash.
The rings froze mid-twist.
The serpent's maw paused inches from them.
Two…
Three…
Four seconds of stolen time.
Rafi grabbed Sahim.
"RUN. NOW!!! DON'T LOOK BACK!!!"
Sahim's voice cracked—
"Na'am—na'am—Yalla Yalla!"
They tried to run.
But Rafi's legs wouldn't obey. His eyes locked on the serpent's frozen jaws, the glowing bow-tattoo on his arm pulsing brighter.
"Bro—BRO—BRO!!" Sahim whisper-screamed.
"Activate the bow! LIKE BEFORE! SHOOT IT!"
Rafi stared—
"How, ya Bahlul?! That was ACCIDENTAL! I just threw a mushroom!!"
The tattoo flickered weakly.
Sahim nearly cried.
"Ya Rabb… what kind of MC is this—skill without buttons—"
He seized Rafi's shoulders.
"Just IMAGINE IT! Like anime—draw the bow, focus on target, intend to kill tyranny, Bismillah—HURRY before UNPAUSE!!"
The silver net trembled. Rafi raised his arm—awkward bow stance, empty fingers.
No arrow.
No glow.
Just blinking ink.
"SAHIM IT'S NOT COMING OUT!!"
"PULL HARDER BRO!!"
"I'M PULLING!!! EVEN MY SOUL FEELS OUT!!"
The net shrank. Sahim shouted:
"QUL—QUL MA'AAYA!!"
(SAY IT WITH ME!!)
"WHAT NOW??"
"SAY: Bismillah ya Qahhar…
Intent to strike injustice, not victims!"
Rafi inhaled sharply.
Stared into the serpent's dark maw.
Imagined a single arrow piercing from inside out.
Sweat dropped onto the tattoo.
"Bismillah… ya Qahhar…"
(Bismillah…Ya The Subduer )
KLIK.
The tattoo locked—bow fully forming in light. A milky-silver arrow appeared.
"ALLAHU AKBAR—IT WORKS!!"
"SHOOT, BROOO!!"
He let go.
SWIIP—!!
Time cracked back.
Water fell.
Glass rings shifted—
But the arrow was already inside the serpent's mouth.
BRUUKK—!!
Not an explosion—
a collapse from within.
The serpent writhed violently—
rings splitting, smoke scattering.
"RAFIIII!! AGAIN!!"
Rafi drew—
Released.
Then again.
And again.
Arrows six and seven split ring after ring—
until the serpent's body fractured.
On the seventh—
The bow died.
Arrow gone.
"BRO—COOLDOWN!!" Rafi panicked.
Sahim grabbed him.
"Then we RETREAT—NOW!!"
The serpent tried to dive—
CRAAAKK—!!!
Three major rings shattered; dark smoke burst and vanished.
The Ring-Serpent fell apart.
Shards floated—
and from the center rose a crystal.
Dark blue. Oval. A hollow in the center. White currents swirling like compressed river flow.
It hovered between them.
Sahim breathed:
"Bro… Wallahi… if this is just a souvenir, I quit."
Rafi touched it.
Cold.
Precise.
It whirred once—clicked—fell still.
"Feels like…" he swallowed,
"…a Boss drop."
Sahim lifted a brow.
"We killed a water snake; we get a water ring.
Checks out.
Barely."
They regrouped upstream. Creatures watched them—glowing eyes everywhere.
"Bro," Sahim whispered,
"…swim or become buffet. They're ready."
Rafi tightened hold of the ring crystal.
"Test now."
He threw it—
nothing happened.
Everything stared at them like disappointed customers.
Sahim covered his face.
"Bro… we just threw away a Boss drop…"
Rafi shrieked:
"NO—NO—NO—!!"
He splashed in, grabbed it, shivering.
"Not throwing again," he growled.
"Try intention," Sahim suggested.
"Water creature → water path.
Please be that and not… dragging enemies underwater."
Rafi inhaled. Imagined water firming beneath him. The crystal vibrated. White current-lines spun. Water darkened beneath their feet—Rafi stepped.
Not sinking.
Standing.
Sahim shrieked.
"BROOO—WALKING ON WATER!!"
Creatures lunged—they dashed across the river, slipping, panicking.
"MA'ASSALAMAAAAAH!!" Sahim yelled at everyone.
(BBYYEEEEEEE!!)
They reached the far bank just as the effect expired. They collapsed—laughing and dying inside.
But here—quiet.
Real earth.
Real cold air.
A faint smell reached them.
Cooking.
Not flower-hallucination.
Not blood.
Food.
Sahim sniffed.
"Bro… is that… sauteed onions…?"
Before their brains could declare hunger-induced illusion—A shadow descended. Not a glass-bird.
A being.
Light.
Graceful.
It floated down from the branches:
skin pale like carved bark,
hair like drifting nightmist,
eyes shimmering green-blue-gold,
ears pointed,
wings soft and luminous.
A forest-fae.
Close enough now to see details. In its left hand— a woven leaf-and-root tiffin box. Steam curled from within—warm, seasoned. Their stomachs betrayed them loudly:
GROOOOK—
GRAAAATTT—
The fae hovered half a meter above ground, studying them like new zoo exhibits.
It blinked once.
Slow.
Sahim whispered:
"Bro… jin chef…"
Rafi swallowed.
"…she knows the paths… the monsters…maybe the food…"
And softer, half-hope:
"…and how to cook."
The fae tilted her head. Then—wordlessly—lowered the steaming tiffin before them. Warm aroma filled the air—strange spices, comforting heat.
They stared.
In a forest that swallowed light, by a river full of predators, under a sky that rejected three suns— two human boys now sat across from a fae who had been watching them from the dark— and for the first time in Dhul-Wujūd…
hope came not from drops, skills, or survival tricks,
but from something dangerously close to—
a dinner invitation.
—To be Continued—