Earlier, Kaya sat in Adirah's home.
The campfire near the chimney sizzled as the ambience settled.
Each cheer of the muffled crowd from far away could be faintly heard.
Kaya interrupted the silence. "A death ritual? And I just let them go off to one like that?"
"Do not be afraid, there might still be time," the old woman said.
All of a sudden, a muffled roar from the mob shook the town behind the tribe's barricade.
"Ooh. It appears we've lost one," Adirah frowned.
Kaya's eyes widened. "Wait, what do you mean?"
The old lady's chair stopped moving. "Somebody faced the joy of the spear."
Rushing out of her seat, Kaya exclaimed, "So what can I do, Adirah? You said I could help them!"
"You can, but you must listen closely. This all depends on if you truly believe it can work."
A brief silence.
"You must harmonize," Adirah muttered.
. . .
Outside, Kaya called out a name, while the old woman stood behind her.
"Awan! We need you!" she shouted.
Despite her attempts, the cheering beyond the walls was louder.
In desperation, Kaya ran past groups of houses in hopes of finding him.
Each house was the same on the exterior. However, even though their outer shells were bland, it was the interior that safeguarded the hearts of the residents.
And so, as she ran—
"Awan?" Kaya asked.
The tribesman was sitting between the roofs of two homes.
He looked up, sighing.
"Yes?" he said, monotone.
"Malik and Zayne are stuck in the ritual. You need to help me," Kaya stressed.
Awan frowned. "There's nothing we can do. If the spears wanted them alive, they'd let them live."
Kaya interjected, "But you're just going to let that happen to them?"
"And what do you expect me to do, huh? Nobody wants me around anyway! Why is it that people only come to me when they need something?" Awan argued.
Kaya sighed. "Aren't you tired of the world telling you who you are and what you should do?"
Continuing, "Now is the time to make a change. Isn't that what you wanted? Something that finally breaks the cycle you're stuck in."
She smiled, though her eyes remained dark the entire time.
Awan jumped up and waved to her. "Follow me."
Adirah gave a warm smile to Kaya as she and the tribesman departed from the town.
He had taken her onto a path that seemed unconventional. It was covered in mud and grass, yet it only pointed toward a wall covered in vines.
From above, Kaya saw a small glimpse of crying seagulls. Her eyes flashed a glow of amber, like taking a picture.
Awan caressed the wall of amber-spotted vines and then found it.
Slowly, he pushed it aside. "Take a look for yourself."
Like an open curtain, Kaya took a glance and saw a circle. The circle was filled with the burdened. Among the burden, one stood out to her.
Malik!
But when she looked around it, she saw a body right next to him, unconscious. She tried to ignore it, as it wasn't her concern. She felt that she needed to stay calm and only think about his safety.
"How can I help him, Awan?" Kaya asked.
He let go of the vines and only pointed up. He acted as if his words didn't mean anything anymore; only his actions proved worth people's time.
She took a step back and assessed the matter.
He's alive in the circle, but he doesn't look like he'd keep his composure for much longer. I can sense something rattling within him, something sharp.
I don't know why I'm doing all this. I don't know why he takes up so much of my mind and so much of my time. But I don't mind anymore.
I'm indebted to him. This is the very least I can do.
Then—
Kaya jumped. She held tightly onto the vines. Slowly climbing them like rope, each stem felt fragile, like one wrong movement would let the climber fall.
Awan noticed her struggle and jumped to another vine.
He spoke emotionlessly. "Remember our heritage. You should never fear when you can connect with it."
Kaya nodded; she had realized what he had said.
She took a deep breath, and her eyes turned bright amber, an incandescence reminiscent of a lantern.
Quickly, the vines felt like heavy rope, and her own body felt weightless. She imagined herself as a feather grazing the ridges of a brick wall.
Effortlessly, she climbed; even Awan was surprised at her adaptability. He thought he would need to teach her, but she had only felt hesitant.
Keeping her grip on the tight vines, she made eye contact with the spots and passed dozens of them.
The barricade was high, but she knew it was necessary.
Awan caught up as they both climbed like animals in a jungle.
Before Kaya knew it, she had reached the top. Toppling over the border, she fell. She felt the cold wood press against her back as she planted her body on the top of the wall.
Then she crawled carefully, avoiding making a distraction to the crowd's cynical laughter.
Awan followed soon after, copying her movements.
Looking around, Kaya noticed that the entire foundation of the tribe was built like a castle, with four towers on each corner. The towers were dark; one could not see what happened inside.
No wonder they're so afraid of shadows. Do they try to block it out with their smiles?
Crawling, she brainstormed an idea, but nothing came up.
Suddenly—
A leather-armored soldier emerged from the darkness of the tower. His eyes widened as he jogged toward the two.
"Hey! You two aren't supposed to be here!" he shouted.
Awan slapped the wooden floor with his palm as Kaya stared down at the man.
She looked up at him, and her eyes glowed brighter.
The man was dumbfounded, waiting for her to leave.
Instead, her face was a blank slate.
"Turn around, and forget what you just saw."
. . .
A golden thread wrapped around his neck from the shadow.
Immediately, the man shifted his body and returned to the tower.
Awan nervously laughed. "You're a dangerous one."
Kaya sighed. "That's not how I'd like to be seen. It took many fake people to make people real in my eyes."
The tribesman thought to himself as the girl of harmony peered over the wooden railing of the castle-like wall.
Is that what she deems a real person? Somebody who listens and follows?
A moment. Kaya popped her head out and heard a conversation between two men.
Their voices held more impact than the crowd. Without even looking at them, one could tell they held authority.
"The Chief. A-and the man who escorted my friends," she murmured.
Awan shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he refused to look over the wall.
Kaya eavesdropped on their entire conversation and heard fragments.
Spies. Eye. Storm. Non-threat. Harmony. Scapegoat.
And most importantly, she heard a sentence clearly through the mob's blurred gossip.
You wanted her for yourself, is that not right?
Kaya raised an eyebrow. She didn't know what to make of it. In fact, she didn't know who "she" was. But she only paid attention to the fact that Malik was in danger and that they seemed to be plotting against him.
She focused only on that. As the two men spoke, something landed beside her.
A seagull.
Kaya stayed still, smiling, and remained watching.
Then her mind went blank, as if it had skipped minutes in search of an opportunity to help him.
Finally, the Chief said it.
"Final Round!!! Throw!!!" he roared.
Her eyes were fixed on Malik. He threw the spear a second too early. Whether it was out of excitement or fear, she knew he hadn't intended it.
Shaking, she struggled to remain calm as the spears turned into long poles in the sky. Each spear had blind eyes and aimed at the ground like darts.
Until—
The javelin came closer, covered in blood and hungry for more.
Right between his eyes, as it calculated.
Kaya predicted it. She saw his hand reach for his pocket. He wouldn't make it in time.
Immediately, she turned her head and faced the seagull dead in the eye.
Her amber eye met its beady eye.
It was a beady eye that held the weight of a camera, watching.
However, now was not the time for speculation.
Her eyes widened, staring, and it finally understood.
Its wings spread with a golden thread.
Its beak gaped open as it cried.
Then it soared, swooping downward, and—
Squawk!
Impossibly, the seagull intercepted the path of the bloody-tipped spear.
Silence emanated as an ear-to-ear grin formed on Malik's face, mocking the smiles of the tribe.
Quickly, Kaya and Awan jumped over the other side of the barricade and slid down the vines like poles.
They blitzed away, yet nobody chased after them. The sheer gasps of awe from the crowd were enough for them to make their escape.
Kaya thought to herself as her body propelled forward.
I hope this is enough for you, Malik. I've done my part now, so please . . . come back to me.
Entering the neighborhoods of cloned houses, they saw Adirah waiting. She had her door wide open.
The three of them entered and swiftly shut the door.
Awan sat on the floor, catching his breath.
Adirah tapped Kaya's shoulder. "So, were you able to— Aaaaahh!!"
She gave a blood-curdling scream.
"Kaya! Y-your eyes!" the old woman shouted.
Blood dripped from her sockets as her amber, near-golden eyes served as a light source for the living room. Her skin looked pale and dull, like the life was drained from her.
She smiled. "I've proven myself useful. This is the happiest I've been in a long time—"
Thud.
Kaya fell, and blood continued to pour out.
Adirah shook her body.
There wasn't a pulse.
. . .
Meanwhile, sleek fans blew air into the marble-floored room.
Silo entered the room through golden leaves. He held a smirk as he carried a stack of documents.
Looking at the high chair in front of the screens, it cast a large shadow from its sheer silhouette.
Without turning, he clapped. "Bravo! Bravo! Did you see that, Silo?"
"No, I did not, Head-Bearer. More importantly, I have great news to share," he responded.
Turning around, the servant saw it.
The doll-like mask stared deeply at him.
"It's come to my attention that there aren't only ants in the farm. An Amber Dove has snuck in, and it toyed with my lens to counteract the fate of my Bullet Ant," Jibril said.
He continued, "A bird of harmony saved it when it couldn't unsheathe its fangs. I knew it wouldn't die that easily."
Silo smiled. "Interesting. It seems you have not built only an Ant Farm, but an ecosystem at that."
"Precisely. An ecosystem that likes to laugh louder than I do," Jibril uttered.
He spread his arms wide. "Think about it, Silo! The way everything transpired couldn't be replicated."
"My decisions, their decisions, and nature's decisions . . . They together altered fate and redirected its spear right in its face! Tell me if there was another way such a perfect sequence could come again in this lifetime!!" Jibril cackled.
Silo laughed lightly. "That would surely be a miracle, sir."
The Head-Bearer guffawed. "It appears that my largest blunder was letting the Amber Dove's gaze meet the Eye of the Storm. Regardless, it is in their nature to connect in the purest form of harmony there is."