Night fell over Kota Serunai (Serunai City) like a curtain of ink.
The harbor no longer burned, but it did not sleep.
Repaired stilts creaked softly. Lanterns reflected in dark water. Beneath the calm surface, the Arus Dagang (Trade Current) flowed unevenly—subdued, but restless.
Hai Cheng stood at the edge of the docks, Suanpan (abacus) hanging loosely in his grip. The jade beads were quiet now.
Too quiet.
"He's regrouping," Yue Lan said softly beside him, her Batik Lingkar (Batik Array) faintly shimmering at her wrist like a living bracelet.
Hai Cheng nodded.
Across the strait, beyond the mangrove silhouettes, something massive hovered above the water.
The Admiral's floating citadel.
A fortress built from brass, dark wood, and reinforced porcelain panels inspired by Jubin Warisan (Heritage Tiles) — but twisted into industrial geometry. Steam vents exhaled white clouds into the night sky. Beneath it, submerged anchors pulsed with controlled Lingqi.
"He's centralized the furnaces," Hai Cheng murmured. "Instead of scattering them through the city…"
"He brought the heart of it offshore," Yue Lan finished.
The Harimau Ombak (Tide Tiger) materialized briefly beside them, translucent stripes glowing faint turquoise. It stared toward the floating fortress and growled low.
It knew.
This wasn't defense anymore.
This was escalation.
---
Crossing the Dark Water
They moved without lanterns.
Hai Cheng projected a thin lattice beneath the surface, weaving Arus Alam (Natural Current) with faint strands of Arus Warisan (Heritage Current) to create a silent current path. The water parted gently around them as they crossed in near darkness.
The closer they drew to the citadel, the heavier the water felt.
The Arus Dagang here was unnaturally straight—compressed and disciplined. Like soldiers in formation.
"He's refining it," Yue Lan whispered.
Metal structures loomed overhead as they reached the outer hull. Pipes descended into the sea like roots of an inverted tree. Each pulsed in perfect rhythm.
Too perfect.
Hai Cheng placed his palm against the metal surface.
The Suanpan beads vibrated sharply.
There was a fourth current here.
Not Dagang. Not Alam. Not Warisan.
Artificial.
---
The Infiltration
They climbed through maintenance scaffolding lined with porcelain panels painted in faded Peranakan florals—beautiful, but warped by heat from furnace cores inside.
Inside the fortress, corridors glowed dim amber.
Furnace Enforcers patrolled in tight formations.
Hai Cheng closed his eyes, extending a thin thread of hybrid current along the ceiling beams. He tugged gently.
The lanterns flickered.
One corridor dimmed.
They slipped past.
Yue Lan's Batik Lingkar (Batik Array) shimmered faintly, masking their Lingqi signatures.
They reached a massive chamber at the fortress's center.
And stopped.
---
The Core Chamber
Below them, suspended in a cylindrical void of brass rings and rotating porcelain discs, hovered a colossal furnace core.
But it wasn't just machinery.
It pulsed like a heart.
The rings around it were etched with hybrid inscriptions—Malay curves interwoven with Hokkien script, stylized into industrial symmetry.
Hai Cheng's breath caught.
"He's not just controlling the currents," he whispered.
"He's trying to unify them."
The Admiral's voice echoed from behind.
"Not unify."
They turned.
He stood calmly on the opposite platform, coat unmoving despite the circulating energy winds.
"Standardize."
The furnace core pulsed brighter.
"The Arus Dagang (Trade Current) is efficient," the Admiral continued. "Predictable. Profitable. The others—Arus Alam, Arus Warisan—they are chaotic. Emotional. Sentimental."
He gestured toward the rotating rings.
"I will create a single Current. One that obeys."
The core flared white.
Hai Cheng felt it immediately—the artificial fourth current trying to overwrite the natural flow beneath the strait.
"You'll suffocate the sea," Yue Lan said coldly.
"I'll discipline it," the Admiral replied.
---
The First Direct Clash
The furnace pulsed.
White-hot Lingqi surged outward.
Hai Cheng thrust his Suanpan (abacus) forward, beads spinning wildly. Turquoise and jade currents exploded outward, forming a defensive lattice.
The impact shook the chamber.
Metal screamed.
Porcelain discs cracked.
Yue Lan expanded her Batik Lingkar (Batik Array) into a spiraling shield, merging seamlessly with Hai Cheng's lattice.
The hybrid current glowed brilliantly.
For a moment—
Balance.
The Admiral stepped forward.
"Good. Show me."
He struck the furnace core with a control rod.
The artificial current surged violently, smashing into their lattice with overwhelming force.
Hai Cheng staggered.
This wasn't scattered pulses like before.
This was centralized power.
The Harimau Ombak (Tide Tiger) erupted from the chamber floor, summoned through the Arus Warisan. It roared, leaping at the furnace core itself.
Claws met brass.
Energy detonated.
Cracks spread across one of the rotating porcelain rings.
The chamber trembled violently.
The Admiral's eyes narrowed.
"You would damage the strait itself to stop me?"
Hai Cheng forced himself upright.
"No," he said, breathing hard.
"We're saving it from you."
He redirected the hybrid lattice—not at the Admiral—
But at the cracked porcelain ring.
The batik-like fractures glowed.
Then shattered.
The furnace destabilized.
Energy spiraled wildly.
The Admiral's composure finally broke.
"Retreat!" he ordered sharply.
Hai Cheng grabbed Yue Lan as the chamber exploded in blinding turquoise and white light.
---
Aftermath
They plunged back into the sea as the floating citadel's core sputtered violently. Steam erupted from broken vents.
The fortress did not sink.
But it dimmed.
Significantly.
From the water, Hai Cheng looked up at it.
"That wasn't his full power," Yue Lan said quietly.
"No," Hai Cheng agreed.
"But now we know."
The Admiral wasn't just trying to control Kota Serunai.
He was trying to rewrite the nature of the currents themselves.
Above them, the floating citadel stabilized, damaged but functional.
Far below, the true Lingqi veins pulsed uneasily.
Something ancient had felt the artificial current.
And it did not approve.
The tides were no longer just rising.
They were awakening.