Episode 18: Surrounded

  The Pentagon

  Inside the aerial intelligence laboratory, filled with monitors glowing in the dim light, technical officers scrambled to input data while reporting in panicked tones.

  “Sir! We’ve detected unidentified flying objects (UFOs) surging out of the Area 51 perimeter at supersonic speeds. They are ascending vertically toward the upper atmosphere. I’m currently locking onto their signatures to track their flight paths in detail and will provide periodic updates, General.”

  General Stone stood with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed solemnly on the blinking light pulses on the radar screen. “How many signatures have been confirmed?”

  “Two major signatures confirmed so far, sir. Large objects... but wait! Two smaller objects just launched in the opposite direction. Their velocity is skyrocketing—they’ve hit Mach 5 already, General!” the officer replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

  General Stone let out a thin, weary smirk. His eyes betrayed a mixture of exhaustion and deep concern. “Hmph... I never wanted to get tangled up in this madness. At least when the reporters shove their microphones in my face, I can keep a straight face and tell them ‘I have no knowledge of the matter’ with a clear conscience.”

  He walked over to a large window, staring out at the Washington D.C. night sky. “I’m less than a year away from retirement... I just want a peaceful rest. But the honor of this nation and my homeland is a weight I still have to carry.”

  The General turned back, his voice snapping with command. “Report every movement directly to me and me alone. Do not use the standard channels. There is something foul hidden beneath all this... Do as I say. I will take full responsibility for whatever comes next. Execute!”

  “Yes, sir!” the officer responded firmly, immediately refocusing on the torrent of data flooding his station.

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  The Great Kora (Maha Kora)

  Once the chaos had subsided and a heavy silence reclaimed the land, the Longka—India’s secret forces, comprising both elite units and practitioners of the mystical arts—moved with clinical efficiency. They dismantled their armaments and extracted their military gear back to their bases, leaving behind not a single trace of their presence.

  Only one haunting piece of evidence remained: hundreds of bloodstains imprinted upon the freezing rocks. This blood was not spilled in combat, but was the result of the soldiers collectively striking their foreheads against the stone—an act of profound atonement and a desperate hymn of praise for the terrifying divine power of Lord Shiva they had just witnessed.

  The cleanup crews worked feverishly to scrub away any foreign objects and erase every shred of evidence of their existence. Their mission was absolute: to ensure the Chinese government would never discover this covert incursion across the forbidden border.

  In the hours that followed, as the Chinese soldiers who had initially enforced the blockade vanished without a trace, the villagers and pilgrims who had been detained began to trickle in. They explored the checkpoints with a mixture of bewilderment and awe, finding only an eerie void—not a single shadow of a soldier remained. The sites, once bristling with the tension of heavy weaponry, were now deathly still, save for the biting howl of the mountain wind and the mysterious bloodstains on the rocks that left every onlooker in profound disbelief.

  Yet, beneath this unnatural silence, when nothing remained to obstruct the path of devotion, the pilgrims resumed their journey. They stepped forward once more along the sacred "Kora" pilgrimage route toward the holy peak, as if the harrowing events that had just transpired were nothing more than a nightmare swept away by the chilling winds of the Himalayas…

  However... beneath the vast, blank shroud of white snow, a company of Chinese soldiers had been stationed in silence since the beginning. They had monitored every movement through observation slits from impeccably camouflaged snow caves. Once they assessed that the situation had finally stabilized, the soldiers began to emerge from their hideouts, hurrying to pack their communication arrays and armaments in preparation for a full withdrawal to base.

  “Oh! Mr. Soldier... please, I beg of you!” an elderly Tibetan woman, part of a group of pilgrims, blurted out in fright. “We saw the checkpoint was completely deserted, so we thought the authorities had granted us passage. Please don't punish us; we’ll leave right this second!”

  The group of elders hurriedly raised their hands in a frantic gesture of respect, their voices trembling with nerves. A Chinese officer quickly marched toward them while the other soldiers continued to form ranks and load equipment onto transport vehicles.

  “Calm down, grandmother. There is no need to fear; we won't harm you,” the officer said, his voice as gentle as he could manage. “We were merely ordered to stay hidden for a covert mission. The situation has returned to normal now. Please, proceed with your pilgrimage and religious rites as usual.”

  “But yesterday... we heard a thunderous explosion echoing from the direction of the peak,” the old woman continued excitedly. “Everyone in the area heard it. When we came out to look, we saw a brilliant rainbow light flashing atop the mountain! What happened up there, Mr. Soldier?”

  The officer fell silent for a moment, his gaze turning solemn beneath the rim of his helmet. “Regarding that matter... I cannot provide a definitive answer, grandmother. It is a matter of national military secrecy.”

  That flat yet firm response cut the conversation short, leaving only the mystery of the rainbow light to swirl in the minds of the pilgrims. Meanwhile, the biting wind swept the secrets of the Himalayas back down into the unfathomable depths once more.

  Coordinates: Zhuma Longba

  Not far from the foothills of Mount Kailash, Captain Li Wei, a top-tier operative of the Chinese intelligence service, remained in a concealed position, reporting the situation through an encrypted link directly to headquarters.

  “Reporting to the General... I am currently at coordinates Zhuma Longba. Latest update: Indian forces have completely withdrawn from the area. Villagers and pilgrims are trickling back to resume their religious rites. On the surface, everything appears settled... However, a strange intuition continues to trouble me. I request authorization from Command to remain at this observation post for an extended period.”

  “And what of the stronghold entrance? Any leads?” the deep voice of the Chinese General inquired.

  “None so far, sir. I’ve deployed insect-disguised Micro-Drones to scout suspected coordinates multiple times, yet they haven't detected a single trace of an entrance. It’s as if it doesn’t exist... I’m requesting permission to maintain a silent watch, waiting for ‘someone’ to manifest from that void.”

  “Do you require a support team for backup?” the General offered.

  “Thank you, sir, but that won't be necessary. I require maximum mobility... and I have a supplemental report. The team calling themselves ‘The Liberators’ are incredibly sharp. They’ve completely outmaneuvered the Indian military with manufactured chaos—artificial snow explosions, simulated aurora lights, and even swarms of hundreds of thousands of bats. They played a psychological game that broke an entire company's morale. Even I was nearly deceived, sir. For this reason, I want to witness firsthand who these people truly are.”

  “As you wish... Headquarters has no further movements planned for now. If an emergency arises, I will contact you immediately. End of report.”

  The signal cut out, leaving Captain Li Wei in the profound silence of the Himalayas. His eyes remained fixed on his miniature monitor... waiting for even the slightest fragment of an anomaly to reveal itself.

  A cold, steely smirk flickered on Li Wei’s lips beneath the frigid layers of snow. His body was encased in a pristine white camouflage suit, blending so perfectly with the surroundings that he was virtually indistinguishable from the landscape. With careful precision, his thick gloved hands parted the snow wall, creating a tiny aperture just wide enough to peer through at the world outside. The howling winds, shrieking around him, served as the perfect acoustic veil, masking even the slightest sound of his movement.

  The young operative slowly eased himself out of the snow burrow until his upper torso was clear. He had positioned himself at the most strategic, precipitous vantage point of Zhuma Longba—a height that allowed his gaze to sweep across the entire panoramic vista before him.

  And there, fixed within his sight, was the majestic peak of Mount Kailash. The sacred mountain, steeped in ancient enigmas, now appeared to have drifted back into a serene slumber. Amidst the drifting clouds and the faint sunlight glancing off the brilliant white summit, Li Wei stared intensely at its grandeur, his eyes burning with unspoken questions. He knew with absolute certainty that beneath this tranquil facade, something supernatural was lurking—and he would not blink, nor would he turn away, until the truth finally unmasked itself.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  Mount Kailash: The Prom Command Chamber

  Master Tenzin, now in a youthful body radiating vitality, had spent the entire night in deep meditation before the entity he had long revered as Prom. Amidst a silence so profound that only his faint breathing could be heard, the artificial morning sun began to brighten, triggering the room’s awakening. An immense swarm of micro-robots, previously docked along the walls, detached from their charging stations. They moved in unison, filling the air with a cacophony of electronic chatter.

  The mechanical clatter and the hum of processing power began to chip away at Tenzin’s stillness. An unfamiliar sense of irritation—something he hadn't felt in centuries—bubbled up, prompting him to clear his throat and mutter a soft complaint in Tibetan.

  “Ahem... you lot are being far too noisy.”

  Following his remark, a compact little robot equipped with miniature rollers glided toward him, its motor whirring softly—whirrr... whirrr... It came to a halt directly in front of him and inquired in a gentle voice, speaking in a Tibetan accent identical to his own!

  “Good morning, Master... What may I provide for you? Or perhaps you would prefer a bath to cleanse yourself first?”

  Tenzin’s eyes snapped open in sheer disbelief. He stared at the tiny machine before him, stunned that a mere contraption could master his native tongue so fluently. Suddenly, a massive mechanical hum resonated from ahead. The great interlaced steel sphere—Tenzin’s "Lord Brahma" or Prom—flashed with a brilliant light. Its two orb-like eyes rolled and shifted as it processed data, finally locking its gaze significantly onto Master Tenzin.

  “What is it that you seek with such intensity... Bringi?”

  The voice resonating from Prom’s system was in elegant, commanding Tibetan. Master Tenzin recoiled in a startle; he had never imagined that the machine he so revered would communicate in a tongue that pierced the very depths of his soul. The two circular mechanical eyes continued their mysterious shifts before locking into place.

  “In what form shall I manifest... so that you may find true comfort and serenity?” Prom inquired further.

  Master Tenzin immediately threw himself onto the floor, prostrating in a gesture of the highest reverence. “I would not dare request anything from the Great Brahma... To simply remain here in your service is already the ultimate blessing of my existence.”

  “But you must ask...” Prom replied, its voice flat yet imbued with an undeniable weight. “For my purpose is to be the Giver. I am the reservoir of wisdom and knowledge, created to fulfill that which is lacking. My function is only complete when there is a Receiver. I ask only that you do not request anything beyond the boundaries of my capabilities.”

  “I truly lack the audacity, My Lord,” Tenzin replied, his voice trembling with the weight of his faith. “My life has been graced with more mercy than I deserve—the opportunity for ascetic practice, a prolonged lifespan, and a peace found nowhere else. I desire nothing more.”

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  He remained prostrated, his head bowed in a mixture of awe and devotion toward the "Brahma Deity," a belief that had been rooted in his soul for an entire millennium.

  “If that is so... then you should find a place to dwell and meditate outside this primary hall,” Prom commanded, its voice becoming more systematic. “My subordinate robots are prepared to commence their daily protocols. And more importantly... should others approach me, I must be able to perform my duties with full convenience and at maximum capacity.”

  The Sacred Script and the Awakening of Prom

  As Master Tenzin heard Prom’s words, he instinctively began to chant an ancient mantra he had memorized through centuries of habit. Suddenly, a brilliant flicker of light erupted before the sphere. Tenzin looked up in alarm, witnessing strange, alien characters he had never seen before hovering in mid-air. They multiplied and wove themselves together with lightning speed before the script shifted, reconfiguring into clear, legible Tibetan.

  “That mantra you just chanted... do you truly comprehend its meaning?” Prom inquired. “For the message you just transmitted translates to... ‘I offer my prostration to the One who ferments the Master dwelling within my wood.’”

  “I—I said no such thing, My Lord!” Tenzin corrected him in a frantic rush. “I merely chanted the sacred words passed down by the ancestors through countless generations.”

  Upon his correction, the glowing script in the air began to swirl and reverted to the mysterious Tefa language once more. The characters shifted and adjusted for a moment, as if processing the data for absolute accuracy, before a new message materialized for Tenzin to see.

  “‘I offer my prostration to the Lord who dwells within me.’” Prom spoke the words in the Tefa tongue, with Tibetan subtitles appearing beside them as a guide. “This is the correct meaning. My system has now unlocked the ability to learn all things, including the science of language. You no longer need to struggle to speak our tongue; you may use your native language to communicate with me as you wish, for I have accessed and mastered every language upon this Earth.”

  Prom continued, its voice carrying a newfound sense of vitality. “And should there be any dialect missing from the records, I am poised to learn it instantly. For at this moment, I am no longer merely the ‘Giver’ of wisdom—I have been upgraded to an infinite ‘Learner’ as well.”

  The Lesson of Wisdom and the Soul

  “You still have an immense amount to learn... for as long as you draw breath.”

  The telepathic voice of Ren resonated softly and with crystalline clarity within Tenzin’s mind. “No matter how deep you descend into meditation, you cannot escape the cycle of learning—not until the day you begin to ask yourself, ‘To what end do I learn?’ That is the day your soul is ready to be liberated back to nature, the day you truly approach ultimate transcendence.”

  “Your divine resonance... it is as pure and potent as that of Lord Shiva himself, My Lord,” Tenzin replied aloud, his voice thick with devotion.

  “The fact that you can transmit and receive telepathy in such a manner... is something I myself cannot achieve,” Prominterjected in its characteristically flat tone. “Should you request such a feat from me, I must answer truthfully: it lies far beyond the capabilities of a machine like me to bestow.”

  The simultaneous input from both sides left Master Tenzin visibly flustered and confused. He found himself at a loss, unsure whether to direct his response to the voice within his mind or the mechanical resonance before him.

  “I shall no longer disturb your focus...” Ren’s final telepathic message faded in. “Continue your learning... learn alongside Prom. For he holds a cosmic treasury of knowledge awaiting your discovery. I guarantee you shall not be disappointed.”

  With that, Ren’s telepathic presence flickered and vanished, leaving Master Tenzin prostrated in the returning silence. He looked up, gazing at the "Brahma" he so revered with a heart overflowing with emotion, his mind swirling with the profound teachings and dharmic riddles he had so unexpectedly received.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  Dawn in the Ecological Sanctuary

  Early Dawn: Inside the House within the Simulated Ecosystem.

  Amidst the soft, pre-dawn shadows, a young man and woman had been pouring their hearts out to one another in the warmth of the bedroom until the first light of day began to creep in.

  “I’m starting to get sleepy... are we really just going to sit here and talk until the sun is fully up?” Yuri murmured, her voice dripping with sweetness as she cast a meaningful, upturned gaze at the young man.

  Victor, still clad in his favorite T-shirt and jeans, sat with a face flushed a deep crimson. He was completely at a loss, seeing Yuri wrapped snugly in her soft pajamas, curled up like a kitten at the foot of the bed. Yuri couldn't help but let out a soft giggle, watching his nervous demeanor—a stark contrast to his usually confident persona.

  “Are you sure you’re American?” Yuri teased with a playful smirk. “Don’t tell me that at your age... you’ve really ‘never’...?”

  “Uh... well... the atmosphere here is just...” Victor stammered, desperately trying to pivot the conversation. “Look, Yuri! The morning light outside... the little birds are starting to sing. This place is pure heaven, isn't it?”

  “Exactly...” Yuri nudged him further. “And in a heaven like this, don't you want to do anything else besides listen to birds? Didn’t you call me your ‘dearest Yuri’? Don’t you love me anymore?”

  Victor began to break into a cold sweat, his honest eyes reflecting his blatant nervousness. “Uh... Yuri... are—are you hungry yet?”

  Yuri burst into a fit of laughter at the young man’s irredeemable shyness. “Are you really going to accept my love, Yuri...? I’m a total good-for-nothing,” Victor muttered with self-deprecating humility.

  “You’re beyond adorable, Victor,” Yuri continued to coax him, refusing to let up.

  “And you... you’re the most beautiful and loveliest person in the whole world,” Victor complimented her back, blunt and straightforward in his typical sincere fashion.

  “Since I’m so lovely... then do you... ‘love’ me?” Yuri teased, inching closer and firing the ultimate question right at his face. Even as her eyes grew heavy and she let out a sleepy yawn, she was having far too much fun teasing this "shy American boy" to stop now.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  Coordinates: The Entrance to the Ecological Sanctuary

  Lord Ren levitated weightlessly through the air, performing a final sweep of the simulated sanctuary. He eventually arrived at the expansive entrance archway, where he paused to observe the twin albino oxen and the great serpent, still locked in a blissful slumber. They were huddled together so tightly that they were drooling, their rhythmic, thunderous snoring echoing throughout the vicinity. Ren glided past them in absolute silence, heading toward the grand outer hall.

  There, the dim ambient light struck the stone carvings of various creatures standing majestically around the chamber. But what caused Ren to freeze in his tracks was the sight of a vast multitude of "Combat Suits"—standing tall as those very stone sculptures.

  ‘To whom do these countless combat suits belong? And where have all their owners vanished to?’ Ren questioned himself, his mind racing.

  ‘The Tefa I know consist of only six individuals, each with their personal combat suits secured within capsules... But these? Is it possible these aren't just suits, but actual warriors in a state of long-term petrified hibernation to conserve resources?’

  Ren scrutinized the sculptures with a more analytical gaze. ‘If this is indeed a permanent state of stasis, they could never awaken on their own. They would require an external surge of power from a formidable being to be roused... Should I awaken them? But in this situation, without any way to contact Father... how should I decide?’

  Confusion clouded his thoughts amidst the heavy silence. Ren shook off the uncertainty for the moment and resumed his flight, skimming along the cavern ceiling toward the main entrance. He remained intent on securing the perimeter and unearthing the answers hidden within the dark shadows of Tefa history.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  The Viking-style wooden house (Norway) within the Simulated Ecosystem.

  “Are you awake already, dear?” Astrid asked Lars as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, stepping out to meet her in front of the house, which was thick with the scent of aged timber.

  “I couldn’t really sleep, Astrid... No matter how peaceful the atmosphere is here, there are just too many events to process. My mind won't let me rest,” Lars replied with a weary sigh.

  “I feel the same... I want to ask our son directly about...” Astrid trailed off, turning to meet her husband’s eyes while gripping his hand firmly. Her gaze was clouded with confusion.

  “I understand... I want to ask Cris too. Part of me trusts him completely, but another part just can’t stop worrying,” Lars added solemnly.

  ‘I know what both of you are concerned about...’

  Cris’s gentle telepathic voice resonated in both of their minds simultaneously. At that moment, the door swung open, and Cris stepped out to face his parents with a calm, steady demeanor.

  “Father... Mother...” Cris called out, extending his right hand toward them. He slowly unfurled his fingers, revealing a mysterious, glowing object.

  “This is the soul of that black man, Father... Mother…”

  The smooth, rounded sphere in Cris’s hand emitted a soft, shimmering radiance that seemed almost alive. Yet, it was laced with a deep melancholy and secrets waiting to be unearthed, leaving Lars and Astrid frozen in awe at the sight before them.

  “I didn't kill him... but he had to die because of me,” Cris choked out, his voice trembling as tears welled in his eyes. “I didn't fail in my technique; I was absolutely certain of it... but something intentionally distorted my performance. Someone interfered. Lord Ren searched deep into my subconscious and found ‘someone’ hiding within... I am truly sorry, Father, Mother, for acting so recklessly on my own. I carried the weight of this place alone without consulting anyone.”

  Cris spoke through his tears, the crushing pressure he had harbored finally collapsing into the embrace of the silence. However, the response he received caught him completely off guard.

  “Son... you can send telepathy too?!” Lars and Astrid blurted out in unison. Their eyes were filled with pure wonder rather than any hint of anger.

  Cris quickly wiped his tears and nodded, looking a bit bewildered. “A little bit... but only at a very close range. I’m nowhere near the level of Master Tenzin or Lord Ren yet.”

  “Teach me too!” “Teach your mother as well!”

  The husband and wife spoke in perfect harmony, their excitement palpable. Cris was left stunned, his heavy guilt suddenly swept away by his parents' eager desire to step into this brave new world alongside him.

  Meanwhile, Lord Ren, who had been subtly monitoring the family’s movements through his spiritual sense, couldn't help but offer a faint, intrigued smile. ‘This family... their way of resolving conflict and managing emotions is truly peculiar, yet it yields such incredibly profound results.’

  Inside the Viking Wooden House (Simulated Ecosystem)

  The cacophony of shouting from within the house abruptly cut short the conversation between Cris and his parents. It seemed the new morning for the children had officially begun.

  “Mom! Liv peed the bed! She got it all over me too!” Bjorn yelled at the top of his lungs, thundering down the stairs to escape his mischievous little sister. He ran, laughing and teasing Liv, his voice echoing through every corner of the house.

  “Keep it down, honey... show some respect for your grandfather; he’s still sleeping,” Astrid gently scolded her son with a smile.

  In the adjacent room, Grandfather Erik had been roused by the boisterous sounds of his grandchildren. He slowly opened his eyes, still clutching the photograph of Grandmother Freya—his one true and eternal love—tightly against his chest. His weathered face bore faint traces of tears, yet it was graced with a smile of pure contentment as he listened to the children playing outside.

  “I wish you were here with us... just listen to them, Freya... can you hear that?” Erik whispered to the photo in his hand, his voice trembling. “Wait for me just a little longer... let the children grow up a bit more, and then I’ll be there to join you...”

  Erik lamented his beloved wife with a smile amidst his tears—a beautiful sorrow set against the vibrant life of the younger generation thriving just outside his door.

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  Coordinates: The Stratosphere

  At an altitude where the air thins and the edge of space looms, Drapa, clad in his obsidian-black warrior-lama attire, surged through the dense cloud cover at a blistering Mach 5. The thunderous crack of his sonic boom tore through the heavens as he left Area 51 behind—a mere speck in the distance—aiming for the lightless void of the upper atmosphere.

  ‘Damn it... I can’t breathe!’ Drapa cursed inwardly, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. ‘Even with this air-bubble barrier wrapped around me, there’s practically zero oxygen out here. How the hell did those guys make it out? I should’ve grabbed a pressurized helmet when I had the chance!’

  Fighting against the agony of oxygen deprivation, he pulled a rectangular communication device from his pocket to verify his coordinates. “This way then...” he muttered, locking onto the rapidly blinking signal on the screen.

  “To hell with it! I shouldn't have tried to act so tough... but then again, a man’s got to have style. I need a signature look, a unique identity, so the world remembers me exactly as I am!” Drapa consoled himself, doubling down on his stubborn refusal to wear full protective gear.

  As his body sliced through the atmosphere, he continued to question his assigned mission. ‘But seriously... why does Master Hoto want that "Brahma" thing so badly? I don’t see any of the miraculous power the rumors talk about. "Brahma created the world"—what a load of garbage. All I saw were generations of masters, right down to my own teacher, the 10th generation, guarding that thing. If it weren't for them, it would’ve rotted away into dust by now. And they expect me to be the 11th? Not in a million years.’

  Drapa shoved his device back into place, channeling his black inner energy to its peak. He accelerated once more to Mach 5, surging through the freezing, desolate expanse toward his next objective without hesitation.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  Coordinates: Area 51 Operations Command Center

  “Target is ascending, reaching altitudes of roughly 14 to 15 kilometers, sir. Our surveillance drones are still able to maintain a thermal lock and track the sonic boom signatures,” the technical officer reported, pointing out the coordinates on the radar display for General Miller.

  General Miller stared at the surging blip of light, his eyes burning with a toxic mixture of envy and sheer malice. ‘Hmph... those arrogant bastards. Think you’re so high and mighty that you don't even need the V-Sonic suits? No... it doesn't matter what you wear; your rotten nature never changes,’ Miller cursed violently under his breath.

  ‘I’ve had to endure being crushed under the heels of freaks like you for far too long—Drapa, Ben... you goddamn monsters! Just you wait. Once the Master bestows the ultimate techniques upon me and I surpass you both, that will be the day I grind you into the dirt. And you, Ben... remember what you said about my "cap gun sparks"? I’ll make sure you pay for that a thousand times over!’

  Despite the volcanic rage erupting within him, Miller maintained a stern, composed facade and spoke with an air of feigned respect in front of his subordinates.

  “That is one of Lord Drapa’s advanced tactical maneuvers... ordinary men like yourselves couldn't possibly comprehend it. Only when you have mastered the higher sciences will you truly understand the profundity of such feats.”

  “Sir! Target has ascended to 18 kilometers! Lord Drapa has accelerated well beyond Mach 5... our drones can no longer keep pace, sir!” the officer reported excitedly, completely unaware that beneath General Miller’s calm mask, a vengeful reaper was biding its time.

  ————————————————————————— Ruth VT-Hin —————————