The Watchtower

A young man woke up one morning in a daze. He was in an unfamiliar place. His clothes had changed; he had originally been a student at an Islamic boarding school in Java, specifically in Cileunyi, West Java.

The place he was now in turned out to be a tall building towering above the clouds. A strange, unintelligible inscription was plastered on the wall inside. He still wondered what language it was in after several minutes of wandering around to see if anyone lived there.

He even went down to the bottom of the building to find out. But no one he could rely on could explain what was happening. Until finally, he heard the call to prayer. He couldn't tell if it was for which prayer time. The building had windows, but all he could see was the white clouds when he reached the bottom. The building's numerous stairs exhausted him, and its floors were dark like caves.

Finally, he decided to pray, thinking that after praying, he would find the answer to what had happened. He also needed to rest, as he was currently on what he thought was the bottom floor. But as he walked along the still-dark floor, he became increasingly aware that he hadn't reached the bottom of the building. He saw another staircase leading down, and it was still dark. He realized he was walking like a blind man.

The spacious floor seemed very clean. There were many tall shelves. He thought the person who once lived there must have been a very tall and mysterious giant. Perhaps he was the man the prophets described as Idris, peace be upon him, who was raised to heaven and remains there to this day. Perhaps this heaven, and this building, were just a short distance away from him on his journey to heaven.

The young man felt a sense of responsibility. He wasn't someone specially chosen for something important. Nor was he the successor to the prophets or saints. He thought this was hell for him. "Am I dead? Is this my punishment for what I did during my life?"

He waited for a long time to see what would happen. He was exhausted from being there. Hunger, thirst, and everything else made him anxious. The only thing that could bring him relief was being there. He desperately wanted to be there. Then the sound of the call to prayer was heard again. He still doesn't know what prayer time it is. He prayed again, this time increasing the number of rak'ahs with the assumption that this prayer was at Isha. Previously he prayed two rak'ahs and three rak'ahs. Two rak'ahs for prayer asked for an answer to the third. He hoped that it was Maghrib time because the sky was dark behind the clouds, as if there was still a little light, which he thought was the light of the sun.

In reality, it was still pitch black after a long time. He didn't know what was really happening. The darkness seemed endless. Although initially, the four diamond-shaped holes, the size of a palm, resembled windows, windows that let in a cold breeze. He still wondered where he was. The previously bright, multi-story space was still visible through the holes he had climbed through. But time became increasingly unclear as darkness descended before his eyes. The room where he sat cross-legged after doing what he thought was a way to find answers. Prayer, it turns out, wasn't enough to open him to a way to discover what he wanted to explore in this unknown place.

The next day, bright light from outside replaced the darkness that had previously unsettled him. The atmosphere remained empty and confusing. Fear occasionally gripped him, wondering how long this would last. The uncertainty in his mind was palpable. If this continued, he would surely die of curiosity.

But there was no time for fear or curiosity. Every journey must come to an end. The young man stood up. He walked toward the places he had previously visited, where he thought he might find a path and perhaps an exit.

While it was still light, he tried to examine every detail of the room. He studied the walls, full of curves and unusual textures. Everything appeared neat and dust-free. The young man's father was a hotel housekeeper. His father, who had passed away, was an orphan who lived and studied at an Islamic boarding school.

While pondering the uncertainty of his own whereabouts, he also tried to remember what had happened to him, leading him to find himself in this strange place, assuming he was above the clouds. This was because every window in the room always showed a view of clouds, making it seem as if he were still floating in the air.

And this wasn't all a metaphor; he really was on Earth. But he hadn't seen any proof yet. He still felt confused about where he was. There was no one in the room full of stairs, and it was exhausting to examine everything. Finally, he felt so sleepy from exhaustion that he fell asleep.

Not long after, he thought. But then he heard something. Like someone discussing something in a foreign language. When he opened his eyes, he saw two objects. One was tall, like a camera tripod or a device used to support a telescope, such as researchers using a theodolite. The tripod's legs had small wheels that could retract when the precision of their movements would collide with an obstacle.

Another large, round ball, the size of a football, is often used by elephants in Lampung, who often perform like soccer players. The ball rolls as if on its surface there's a kind of wheel that can spin around.

The two objects didn't look like inanimate objects. They were like unique, living creatures moving. They were talking to each other, like he was sleeping and then waking up, seemingly unconcerned about his presence. He was sleeping in a different place. The young man was surprised, then the two objects responded. "We had to move you. Karlin took you to the right place to lie down."

Karlin? Who was that? The young man became even more confused. It turned out there was someone else. So who were these two moving objects? They looked unusual. One resembled a tripod, the other a spherical shape that, at the slightest movement, seemed threatening to him, emitting a strange sound like a horse's neigh. "Watchtowers to all operators, what's the situation on Earth right now?"

The horse's neighing sounded again. Like an alarm signaling serious danger. "This is Ballz, ready to respond and dispatch."

"Wait!"

This time it was a different sound. The young man's screams were ignored by the two objects; they didn't seem to be creatures. They were moving, living objects. It's impossible to call them robots, because they interact in a way that's unlike anything humans would ever imagine. And the young man, a human, finds this interaction utterly absurd. The objects that act out their actions look like lights. But they're not lights; they're floating, illuminating the room. It's as if the place is kept dark only for necessary purposes.

The objects followed the two of them wherever they moved, Karlin. The young man continued calling out. He also mentioned Karlin's name, the name the two strange creatures had mentioned in the equally strange room. The young man asked for explanations and help. He chased as best he could, his body amidst hunger and thirst and many other needs. But he was still ignored by the two.

For a long time, he continued to chase. His feet faltered, trying to drag them weakly. "My name is... wait... I... I... my name is... Dhikr Azhar. Who are you?"

"Who is Karlin?"

"You called?" A figure suddenly appeared. The young man was startled.

It was an unusual figure. It floated, its legs were legless. It had the parts of a large bowl instead of its body, which was only its stomach, if the young man could describe it. Three arms, one in the middle like a trunk, two on the left and right, but not like hands because those two parts were part of the bowl the figure seemed to be sitting on.

"Karlin is in the Operations Center. My name is Kurokan Madari. The two things that came to see you earlier are also looking for you, Ballz and Tridopz. They are Karlin's assistants, just like me, in this Watchtower." The creature spoke. The young man tried to understand the young man's unease upon hearing it.

"Karlin took you from the Operations Center. The explosion left you behind. We didn't understand what happened, but you suddenly appeared there and saved Karlin from the accident," he replied. Kurokan tried to explain the sudden incident. Teleportation, let's call it, the young man stated in his mind. Yes, he had suddenly been in one place without planning. As if this was God's way of explaining the truth in a mysterious way.

"Operations Center?" the young man asked.

"Yes, that's what the Watchtower calls it. Any incident or thing that occurs beyond logic or suddenly requires special attention, we call it the Operations Center." Kurokan replied, helping the young man walk and leading him to one place.

"Forgive us, we're researching what to do with you. Since this building was built, we haven't interacted with the planet below until we could understand the Operations Center, and despite the many solutions to understand it, we still haven't found a solution," Kurokan replied.

In one room, the temperature was cold. The air conditioner and many of the items the young man saw in the transparent glass cabinets were all from Earth. They were all packaged food. Kurokan explained that it was all part of the research. They occasionally visit Earth to seek out and freely transact with the planet's inhabitants.

"The situation on your planet is also still under investigation. We've never been able to explain to everyone on Planet Kelt why humans are always selling and trying to buy things," Kurokan replied.

Dzikr Azhar tried to follow along as best he could. Kurokan's words confused him a little. Kurokan gave him some packaged food, which he thought was still edible. He had been watching him all this time. While the young man was there, he felt the need to wait before giving him food. He remembered the place he called the Watchtower, a place built by the Celts. A people from the planet Murmorina. A building built above the clouds. Yes, the base of the building was an artificial cloud that continuously descended from a special part of the building, drawn by a machine beneath the building, collecting it into the building's foundation. Kurokan wasn't from Murmorina; he had been invited by Karlin from the Dangerous Community. The Dangerous Community was the name of a group of researchers from across the universe who dedicated their efforts to finding answers to the mysteries of the universe.

"I'm actually from Rokan. One of the nebulae in the Tirentan Rao Galaxy," Kurokan replied.

"Tirentan Rao?" The young man tried to restrain himself. He was grateful to be free of hunger and thirst again. He had been told that Karlin's observations had been taking too long. Waiting until he died from the loss of fluids, protein, calories, and much more that the young man's body desperately needed.

"I won't tell you that I've already given you the general substances necessary for endurance," he said again. "Karlin is always careless in treating the creatures he rescues after the Operations Center is determined."

"Operations Center? Those two words come up again," Dzikr replied.

Kurokan continued his explanation. "Yes, that's what we in the Dangerous Community call it. All the phenomena that occurred at that time were seen and experienced by us. I mean, researchers from the Dangerous Community experienced them. I've never experienced them; I just recorded them and stored them in my Travel Memory."

"Travel Memory?"

"Yes, that's the energy source in the Watchtower." Kurokan said that every observation and its supplementary results, once completed through the process of translation, repeated interpretation, and issuance of certification for processing into renewable energy products, would become a key part of the light-making machine. This further confused Dzikr.