Chapter 47: The Awakening of the Sleeper

The temple floor trembled violently, and the serpent carvings on the walls seemed to be activated by an invisible force. Their stone eyes gleamed with a strange crimson glow. Noya glanced down at her wrist, where a drop of blood had trickled down. The moment it touched the cracks in the stone, it was absorbed instantly—vanishing as if something beneath the surface was drinking it in.

"Lin Han really cannot tahan that Ah-neh's curry smell." Ah Rong muttered under his breath, gripping his flashlight tightly. The humid air around them grew thick with something indescribable, something ancient. He took a step back, only to feel the ground beneath him shift. The floor was caving in. He barely managed to grab onto a nearby stone pillar to steady himself.

"What the hell is this?" Lin Han swore. He instinctively reached for Noya's hand, but her skin felt ice-cold. Her eyes were fixed on the widening crack in the ground, as though entranced by something unseen.

In the distance, the police sirens from Bangsar wavered in and out, their echoes twisting unnaturally in the heavy air. It was as if they were trapped between two worlds—one familiar, the other wholly unknown.

What seeped from the crevice was more than just blood. A thick, black substance oozed forth, its scent like something long decayed, an acrid stench that clawed at their throats. It smelled disturbingly similar to a rotten durian split open after weeks of fermentation.

And then, from the abyss, something stirred.

Noya sucked in a sharp breath. A face—if it could even be called that—slowly emerged. It was neither fully human nor entirely beast. Deep-set sockets gazed blankly at them, its skin lined with serpent-like scales. A grotesque smile curled at the corners of its mouth.

"You… have disturbed the Sleeper."

The voice didn't come from its mouth. Instead, it slithered straight into their minds, wet and cold, a whisper brushing against the edges of their consciousness.

Lin Han clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. His body involuntarily shivered—not from fear, but from something far more primal. The voice was not just sound; it carried weight, something deeper, something reaching into his very soul.

"Sakit kah?" Noya murmured, her fingers barely grazing Lin Han's wrist as if testing whether he was still present, or perhaps grounding herself in the moment. Her pulse was racing, the blood in her veins moving too fast—like something inside her was being called forth.

Ah Rong took an instinctive step back, nearly stumbling into the crack. His voice trembled: "We… we didn't actually wake something up, did we?"

Lin Han didn't answer. He kept his eyes locked on the figure rising before them, a chilling realization forming in his mind.

This wasn't something they had awakened. It had been waiting for them.

The vibrations of the temple had loosened layers of dust and decay, peeling back the walls to reveal hidden carvings beneath. As Noya's gaze swept over them, her breath hitched.

She finally recognized them.

A memory surfaced from childhood—her grandfather's voice, reading from an old Javanese manuscript, a story buried in the folds of history.

A prince of the ancient Javanese kingdom had been cursed by the serpent god. His body fused with that of a snake, and his descendants carried the curse in their blood for generations. The only way to break the cycle was through a blood offering—the blood of one who bore the mark.

Noya's face turned pale.

Her blood was the key.

"He was just about to crouch down when he suddenly heard the sound of metal clashing."

Lin Han spun around just in time to see an old brass token slide from the temple walls, landing at their feet. The inscription on it was faint, but the words were unmistakable—

"Genting's debt must be paid."

The emblem of the Genting Corporation. Again.

Lin Han felt his breath catch.

A company that spanned decades of Malaysia's modern history—what possible connection could it have to this ancient curse? Coincidence? Or a conspiracy that had taken root long before they had even been born?

The serpent's voice coiled around them once more.

"You… are the one who has returned."

Noya trembled. She could feel something deep within her responding to the voice, something clawing its way to the surface. It was not just her mind—it was her blood, her very being, as if she had been waiting all along for this moment.

She bit her lip, fighting to keep control, but the whispers were relentless.

Ah Rong seized Lin Han's arm, his knuckles turning white. "We need to leave. Now. This temple is a trap—we never should have come."

Lin Han remained still.

He knew Ah Rong was right. If they left now, they might escape. But the truth would remain buried, and something told him they were closer than they had ever been.

And if they stayed… they might not make it out alive.

Noya exhaled shakily, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Lin Han… do you believe in fate?"

He was silent for a moment before smirking slightly.

"I don't believe in fate. But I believe in you."

Noya stared at him, something flickering in her eyes. But before she could respond, the temple shook violently. The ground split apart, the darkness below unfurling like a monstrous maw.

And from the depths—

The Sleeper rose.