The Man the Mountain Kept (M2K)

What Once Was, Now Is Gone

Hulio stood at the edge of the stone altar, staring into a darkness that wasn't truly dark. Underground, there was no sky to lend its light—only glowing stones, as if they held the memory of ancient flames long forgotten.

Since Diah and Rendra had arrived, something within him had shifted. Before that, he was merely a shadow of himself. A restless soul, trapped between life and death. But the voices he recognized—their real, tangible presence—had slowly revived his awareness. He felt... alive.

Diah explored the cave with quiet determination. Without her sophisticated equipment, everything had to be done manually—paper, pencils, and instinct. But that wasn't what disturbed her. It was the cave itself. The living layers of stone, the unknown carvings, the strange geomagnetic currents flowing like bloodstreams—it left her awestruck in ways she couldn't explain.

Meanwhile, Rendra could only grumble at Hulio's transformation. Hulio's body had become dense, his muscles firm, and his skin shimmered faintly like living metal. His eyes had changed too—now, they looked like they could pierce the dark.

Out of curiosity (and a little jealousy), Rendra tried the cave's food: water dripping from purple stalactites, glowing mushrooms, and a fruit that looked like a black pomegranate. The taste was strange—bitter, tingling—but he ate it anyway.

A few hours later, Rendra's body suddenly lifted into the air—two meters backward, untouched. He fell like a leaf on the wind, stunned, confused, then laughing bitterly.

So this is what Hulio's been eating? he thought.

Diah helped him up, half-laughing, half-worried. "What just happened to you?"

"I... I think it's the mushroom," Rendra muttered. "I'm not eating that thing again."

But the effects weren't just physical. Rendra began to hear things—vibrations, rhythms pulsing directly from the stone. Am I hallucinating? he wondered, disoriented.

That was when Hulio whispered, "We only have three days here."

"Three days?" Diah turned. "Who told you that?"

"I heard it... a whisper. A dream. Maybe a warning."

Rendra frowned. "Three days? How would we know? There's no sun down here."

Hulio glanced at his cracked watch. Their phones were broken, and time had no measure here. Yet he could feel it—like a heartbeat, quickening.

They moved deeper into the cave, Diah leading with insatiable curiosity, constantly studying the surroundings. Rendra trailed behind her, occasionally commenting. Hulio stayed silent, walking last. He knew these caves, but preferred the inner chamber—his sanctuary. This wasn't just his home anymore. It had become his very life.

But he had never studied the cave's carvings. He understood them without study, without years of research like Diah. The knowledge wasn't spoken—it revealed itself in silence. One thing was certain: the mountain spoke.

The air grew heavier as they ventured deeper. The walls unveiled symbols: spirals, suns, claws, and most prominently—a vertical eye flanked by waves.

Diah touched a large carving. "This isn't Sasak, or Old Javanese. It doesn't match any known language family."

Rendra stared. "This…" he whispered. "I've seen it before—at my grandmother's house in Bima. She called it the third eye. The guardian's eye."

"Dewi Anjani?" Diah's breath caught.

Rendra slowly nodded.

Behind the wall, a hidden passage opened into a vast stone hall. Towering pillars reached skyward, some collapsed. In the center stood a round altar engraved with the third eye, and at its heart—an imprint of a glowing hand.

The vibration returned, crawling from their feet up their spines.

Time lost meaning. No morning. No night. Only the pulse of the earth and the slow shift of blue light.

---

They returned.

Hulio sat cross-legged upon the altar, his breathing steady. He wasn't speaking with words—but through awareness.

Suddenly, mist rose—not from air, but from stone. The altar cracked.

A red glow seeped through the fissure, carrying the scent of burnt wood, dried flowers, and aged metal. A heavy voice echoed:

"Child of the upper world… you have knocked on a door sealed for thousands of years."

Diah froze. Rendra stepped back.

From the mist emerged an old man—his black robe tattered, stitched with threads of blood-red. His hair was tied high. A keris hung on his back, carved with spirals of earth and flame.

His face was as hard as stone, but his ember-gray eyes burned with dying fire—not yet extinguished.

"I am Empu Raksa Jagat," the man spoke. "Guardian of heritage, sculptor of memory, final voice of the knowledge your kind abandoned."

Hulio bowed low, palms to chest, and knelt.

"Master," he whispered. "The one who woke me from the void."

Diah trembled. "You… met him?"

Hulio nodded. "In whispers. In dreams. When I was dying, he gave me breath again."

Empu Raksa turned to Diah and Rendra.

"Two from a world that no longer believes. One seeks answers with tools. One came when logic failed."

"You were not summoned. Yet you came. So now—listen."

He raised his hand. The third eye symbol glowed all around them.

"The first eye sees the light.

The second eye—sees the shadow.

But the third eye… sees what does not wish to be seen."

"And now… that eye is open."

His voice didn't pass through their ears—it settled in their minds.

"You have three days. But not by the sun's time. Here, time is counted by vibration. If you do not leave when it ends… your bodies will remain. Only your spirits will return above."

Diah tried to speak, but her mouth was sealed. Rendra dropped to his knees. Hulio stayed calm.

"What must we do?" Hulio asked.

Empu Raksa approached and touched Hulio's chest with one finger. A spiral symbol glowed on his skin.

"Train your body. Empty your mind. Listen to water and stone. If you wish to return… become lighter than your shadow."

The mist swallowed Empu's figure. But his voice lingered—in the air, in the stone, in their breath.

Blue light pulsed across the cave ceiling like veins. Diah awoke with a sore back—but lungs that felt brand new. It was as if the cave itself was alive… and testing them.

"I dreamed I was a stone that could hear," Rendra groaned.

Hulio gave a thin smile. "That wasn't a dream…"

---

They gathered around the altar. The third eye still shimmered.

Hulio began to move—his body flowing, hands swirling like mist. It wasn't martial arts, nor yoga. But it held an ancient rhythm. Diah observed, then followed. Her body was stiff—but it remembered.

"This movement has no name," Hulio said. "Only a principle: become the earth, flow like water, be lighter than intent."

Rendra watched, munching on fruit. "You're dancing with the wind. I'll guard the perimeter in case a mist-monster wants a duel."

But on his third bite, his body jolted. He leapt, landed perfectly—without knowing how.

"What the—?!"

"Your body is learning," Hulio said.

Suddenly, a sound echoed from deeper inside: thousands of wings fluttering. The mist thickened. A giant faceless figure emerged behind a pillar.

But it didn't attack.

It mimicked Hulio's motion. Flowing hands. Steady breath. Gentle steps.

Rendra and Diah didn't flinch. They had grown used to the cave's wonders.

"It's... training with us?" Diah asked.

No voice answered. But their hearts heard:

"We are watching. Not enemies. Guardians of the trial."

---

The next cycle—or whatever passed for "day" in this place—began when they awoke naturally. Their bodies now adjusted to the rhythm of the cave.

The cave walls shifted color from blue to violet. As if something unspeakable... wanted to speak.

Diah felt an unease that wasn't hers. She touched the altar stone.

"The ground is shifting… something is coming."

Rendra narrowed his eyes. "Maybe it means our time is almost up."

Hulio closed his eyes, seeking the whisper.

But silence answered.

"The signal is gone," he murmured. "Like someone turned their face away."

The eastern wall began to thrum—not an earthquake, but a heartbeat.

Diah collapsed. Rendra leaned against a pillar. Hulio stood firm, sweat along his temples.

"Someone's trying to enter," he said. "Not a cave-being. From above."

"Mateo?" Diah asked.

Hulio nodded. "He sent more people. But this cave won't let them in... without consequence."

Rendra stood. He no longer doubted. Hulio had become something else—something attuned.

"If they force their way in… the cave might collapse," Hulio whispered.

---

From the dark corridor came a scream—long, choking, tormented.

Rendra shuddered.

"We're trapped," he said, panicked.

"How do we get out?!" Diah cried, her eyes searching the altar for answers.

But the altar remained dim. The pillars didn't move. The tunnel stayed shut.

They were sealed in.

Not yet cleansed.

Or not yet finished.

---