“Wait!” Intan cried, stepping forward, her hand outstretched. “You don’t understand! He’s not—” “Silence, Cahaya!” Guru Badai’s voice boomed, cutting her off. He gestured, and two guards moved swiftly to block Intan, their heavy bronze armor clanking together. “This is beyond your comprehension. The boy’s destructive potential is boundless. He must be restrained, for the good of all.” Guntur watched as Bolo, growling low, puffed up his fur, ready to defend. But against the disciplined Sentinels, armed with their gleaming halberds, even Bolo’s newfound bulk seemed insignificant. Guntur pressed a palm against his ribs, nausea twisting his gut far worse than any blow Kresna had landed. This wasn’t a spar; this was serious. Badai’s smile widened, devoid of warmth. “Take him. To the Core Stabilizer.” The guards advanced. Guntur, still unsettled by the painted illusion of his own fist, didn’t resist. He was led through winding corridors, the air growing damp and chilly, until they reached a cavernous chamber hollowed into the central island's bedrock. In its center stood a colossal, obsidian monolith, reaching from the unseen depths to the ceiling, pulsating with a faint, steady thrum. Runes, faintly glowing with captured cosmic force, snaked across its surface. “This, Guntur Perkasa, is the heart of our floating islands,” Badai announced, gesturing grandly at the spire. “It maintains the bedrock of this celestial formation. You, with your… unique constitution, will find it most accommodating. It will siphon your excess kinetic force, keeping all of Nusa Indah safe from your erratic surges.” He bared his teeth in a tight sneer. Two guards shoved Guntur forward. He felt a strange pull, his skin prickling as he neared the stone. Before he could react, tethering loops of shimmering light erupted from the monolith itself, wrapping around his wrists and ankles, pinning him tight. The thrum intensified, vibrating through his bones. Badai stepped back, raising his talisman. It pulsed with the kinetic charge Guntur had unknowingly provided. “Now, let us truly secure the future of our home.” He began chanting, his words ancient and guttural. The talisman flared, a torrent of concentrated influence shooting directly into the Core Anchor. The runes on the stone blazed white-hot, and Guntur felt a sickening density gather behind his ribs, a familiar, runaway jolt of impact force. The entire chamber began to shake. Dust rained from the ceiling. Outside, the floating islands of the Sky Summit began to tremble violently. A jagged crack, like lightning, appeared in the midnight expanse above, tearing across the dark fabric of the celestial dome. [CORE INTEGRITY AT 10%. PLANETARY SYSTEM RESET IMMINENT.] [CORE INTEGRITY AT 8%. PLANETARY SYSTEM RESET IMMINENT.] Guntur gritted his teeth, fighting the overwhelming current. It was like being caught in a maelstrom, his body a conduit for a power he couldn’t contain. The Anchor was not damping his blows; it was magnifying them, funneling his explosive reserves down into the planetary core. He saw the vision again, Nusa Indah shattering into dust. “What have you done?!” Intan’s voice cut through the rumbling, filled with fury. She sprinted into the chamber, Bolo at her heels, a shattered polearm skittering across the flagstones behind her. Her tunic hung in frayed strips, blood smearing her knuckles after battering through the rear sentry line. “Cahaya! How dare you interfere!” Badai roared, momentarily distracted from his ritual. Intan ignored him, locking her gaze on Guntur as he strained against the luminous bands. Bolo, sensing the rising shockwave, puffed out his hide to the size of a boar, his six claws scrabbling on the buckling floor. He let out a sharp yip, trying to scramble forward, but the static washing from the stone threw him back. [CORE INTEGRITY AT 5%. PLANETARY SYSTEM RESET IMMINENT.] Guntur watched Intan wipe dirt and sweat from her cheek, her shoulders trembling with effort. He had been so focused on suppressing the impact, on trying to make it disappear. But looking at her, a memory surfaced, clear and sharp: his grandfather, Sesepuh Perkasa, demonstrating a precise, almost imperceptible redirection of force, a lesson from long ago. “Control,” his grandfather had said, his voice a low rumble, “is not absence of power, but its direction.” Guntur closed his eyes, the pressure inside him reaching an unbearable peak. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He wouldn’t. Instead of pushing back against the torrent, he let it flow, guiding it, channeling the raw, world-shattering surge not outward, but… inward. Deeper. Into himself. He could feel it, a terrifyingly vast ocean of raw impact force, swirling in the deepest part of his being. The bands binding him buzzed violently, the Anchor humming like a hive as it tried to siphon the force into the core. But Guntur was no longer resisting its pull. He was mastering it. The power was his, and he would not let it be used to destroy. Badai stared, mouth slack. The Anchor shuddered, yet the floor held. The massive power remained coiled, swallowed backward into Guntur's core. The fracture across the sky stalled. Badai recoiled at the calm settling over the boy's brow, a steady stillness far deadlier than any brawl. “No,” Badai whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief and dawning fear. “This isn’t possible.” He channeled another blast of stolen power from the talisman into the spire, desperate to shatter Guntur’s focus and trigger an outright collapse. The dark stone flashed with jagged purple veins, and the spectral bindings flared into blinding ribbons. Guntur felt the strain, the sheer magnitude of trying to hold back a cataclysm within his own body. His muscles screamed, his vision blurred at the edges, but he held firm, his gaze now fixed on Badai, a cold, unwavering resolution replacing his usual cheer. He knew what he had to do. He had to unleash it. But not into the world. He had to turn it back. He had to make the power his own, and then direct it with absolute, focused precision. One single, devastating counter-punch.

The Core of the World