A Price Paid in Blood

Amidst the ruins of Jakarta, smoke curls into the sky, blotting out the sun. The city is a battlefield of broken loyalties and shattered power, its heart still beating amidst the chaos.

In a dimly lit back room of a forgotten café, Bintang leans against the peeling wall, his face shadowed by fatigue and loss. Clarissa stands before him, her eyes sharp, the weight of truth heavy in her hands.

She slides a weathered manila folder across the table. Its edges are frayed, the seal broken. "This is what they didn’t want you to see." Her voice is steady, but beneath it, a tremor of urgency.

Bintang hesitates, his fingers lingering on the document before he finally opens it. His eyes scan the pages—classified reports, intercepted communications, detailed diagrams of power structures. And at the center of it all: evidence of manipulation, of puppeteers lurking behind every move the Nine Dragons made.

He looks up, his face pale. "This… this was all orchestrated?"