The sun had yet to rise when Arka awoke. The small room was still cloaked in half-darkness, and his mother was asleep, her breathing shallow but more even than the night before. He quietly stepped out of bed, approached the window, and pushed it open just a crack—enough for the morning air to whisper through.
The city before dawn held a unique stillness, like it was holding its breath. A few vendors had begun arranging their wares, but the streets remained largely empty. Arka leaned on the windowsill, taking it all in. Even the silence here felt foreign—charged with a tension he couldn't quite name.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. The name embossed in gold across the heavy cardstock seemed to pulse with opportunity: Arjuna Wijaya. He ran his thumb along the edge, then opened the pouch hidden in his satchel and retrieved the Cadurian ring.
"It's time," he murmured.
He splashed his face with cold water from a basin, changed into his best clothes—simple, but clean—and straightened his hair with care. He gave himself a final glance in the cracked mirror before turning to leave.
"You're leaving this early?" his mother's weak voice startled him.
Arka rushed to her side. "Sorry, Ma. I'm going to visit the Doctor the innkeeper mentioned. Better to get in early before the line forms."
"Take some bread with you," she said, gesturing to a small parcel. "You forget to eat when your mind is racing."
Arka smiled and kissed her forehead. "I'll eat, promise. You rest."
After making sure she had water within reach and her blanket was snug, Arka stepped out into the hallway. The innkeeper was already awake, bustling in the kitchen.
"You're up early," she greeted.
"Big day," Arka replied with a smile. "Could you point me to Doctor Wijaya's clinic?"
"Main road, third right, white building with a herbal sign," she said. "But he's not usually open yet."
"I'll take my chances. Thanks."
The morning was brisk, but Arka welcomed the chill—it sharpened his thoughts. As he walked, he took note of the city's layout: government buildings, merchant halls, ornate mansions shielded behind high walls. Wealth and influence were etched into every brick of this place.
He found the clinic but didn't approach. Instead, he sat at a nearby tea stall and ordered a drink, watching the building from across the street.
"Waiting for someone?" asked the old vendor.
"Waiting for the Doctor to open," Arka said. "My mother's sick."
"Ah, Doctor Wijaya. Won't be in before eight," the man said. "You've got time."
Arka nodded, then casually asked, "Do you happen to know Arjuna Wijaya? I heard he's the Doctor's cousin."
The vendor's eyes lit up. "Know him? Everyone knows Mr. Arjuna! Richest trader in the region—owns half the harbor."
"Is he married?"
"No wife. All business. Lives near the city park—big estate with two guards. But he's rarely there. Always working or traveling."
Arka filed the information away. When the clinic finally opened, he thanked the vendor and crossed the street. The assistant at the front desk asked his name.
"Arka," he said, then added, "I'm here on the recommendation of Mr. Arjuna Wijaya."
Her demeanor changed instantly. "Oh, a guest of Mr. Arjuna! Please, come right in."
Arka kept his expression humble. "We only just met last night. He kindly gave me his card."
Still, the name worked wonders. Minutes later, Arka sat face-to-face with Doctor Wijaya, who eyed him with polite curiosity.
The ring worked quickly—Arka activated it under the table and captured the Doctor's likeness. Then he spoke about his mother's illness, explaining every symptom. The Doctor nodded and promised to visit her shortly.
"If Arjuna sent you, we'll make sure your mother gets the best care," he said warmly.
"Yes. I'm very grateful," Arka replied. "He mentioned he had a meeting today—with the Governor's Secretary?"
"Correct. Big harbor project. Arjuna's been pushing for that contract for months."
"Hope he gets it. He seems like someone who earns his place."
After giving the inn's location, Arka left the clinic. But instead of heading back, he moved toward the Governor's office.
Sure enough, a lavish carriage stood parked near the entrance. Arka, now in the Doctor's form, approached the driver.
"You're Mr. Arjuna's coachman?" he asked.
"Yes, Doctor Wijaya. Can I help you?"
"Please tell my cousin I'll be waiting at his office. It's urgent."
"Understood, sir."
With that, Arka slipped into an alley and activated the ring once more. The transformation was excruciating—but necessary.
Moments later, Arka emerged in Arjuna Wijaya's likeness.
He hailed a carriage and said calmly, "To the harbor. Mr. Arjuna Wijaya's office."
The office was just as the tea vendor described—towering, opulent, unmistakable. The doorman bowed as Arka entered.
"Forgot an important document," Arka said briskly. "Just retrieving it."
Inside the grand office, Arka moved quickly. He found a folder marked East Harbor Tender Proposal—a full breakdown of the expansion project, financial forecasts, competitor profiles, and internal strategy notes.
Bingo.
He slid key documents into a satchel, then selected one of Arjuna's tailored suits from the wardrobe. Once dressed, he looked in the mirror and saw no trace of himself—only power.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I need your face… to rewrite my fate."
Back in the carriage, he read every page of the tender proposal, absorbing its language, its tone, its numbers. By the time they neared the Governor's office, he was ready.
Arka exited the car early and approached the side entrance—a detail gleaned from the notes. A guard paused.
"Mr. Arjuna? Didn't you already go inside?"
"Had to retrieve a document. I'm here now."
The guard hesitated, then waved him through. "Main conference room, second floor."
Arka ascended the stairs and spotted the real Arjuna just as he stepped away from his entourage. Alone. Perfect.
Arka followed him into the restroom.
Arjuna turned. "What the—?"
A swift strike. A cloth laced with sleeping herbs. A brief struggle. Silence.
Arka locked him in the last stall, ensured he could breathe, and whispered, "Forgive me."
He straightened his suit and stepped out.
"Arjuna!" an associate called. "Where have you been? We're about to start. Damar Consortium just dropped their bid."
Arka responded smoothly, "They're undercutting—but it's a trap. We won't match them. We'll win on quality and long-term commitment."
The man blinked, then grinned. "Exactly! Let's get in there and seal this."
The door to the grand meeting chamber swung open.
"Mr. Arjuna Wijaya," the attendant announced.
Arka stepped inside, greeted the Secretary, and took his seat at the table like he belonged there.