The path to Kampung Merah feels longer than you remember. The village, once a place of vibrant life and sound, is now wrapped in an eerie, watchful silence. The usual chorus of children’s laughter and clattering pots is gone, replaced only by the low hum of insects and the weight of fear. Doors are shut tight; the few faces you see peer from windows, their eyes wide with apprehension.
You find Rahim in the dim light of his longhouse, slumped against a woven mat. The man you once knew for his strength is pale, his skin slick with a feverish sweat. A crude bandage, stained a dark crimson, is wrapped tightly around his forearm. His eyes flutter open as you approach, and a flicker of relief cuts through his pain.
“Alistair, you came,” he breathes, his voice raspy. He tries to sit up, wincing as the movement jars his wound. “I knew your heart would not let you ignore my letter.”
He gestures for water, and after a sip, his story pours out, a torrent of dread. “For months, my partner—Dr. Elena Vance—and I researched the old stories. We thought them mere folklore. But we found truth. The ‘Jade Serpent’ is real. It is not a treasure; it is a lock, a prison for an ancient spirit of shadow. We thought it a myth… until the cult came.”
He says the word ‘cult’ with a tangible fear. “They call themselves the ‘Shadows,’ and they believe the relic can grant them power to remake the world in darkness. They have been hunting it. Last night, they raided my home, tearing it apart for our maps. I fought, but their strength… it was not natural.” He touches his bandaged arm. “I barely escaped. Elena stayed behind at our camp in the mountains to hide our notes. I fear for her. And I fear they are now heading for the Temple of the Dawn. If they reach the Serpent first, Alistair, all is lost.”
The urgency in his voice is a physical force in the quiet room. The time for preparation is over.