Monday morning, July 1st, the sound of commotion echoed inside one of the meeting rooms at the National Intelligence Agency.

  BRAKK!

  A loud sound came from the far end of the table.

  “Repeat that one more time?”

  he said, closing his eyes after taking a deep breath, trying to rein in the emotions that had begun to surge.

  “Reporting, sir. Twenty ministry staff, five KPK members, eight National Police officers, three TNI personnel, two judges from the Attorney General’s Office…”

  One of the staff members delivered a complete report regarding the 412 government officials who had gone missing.

  “We already issued the first special warning to all government bodies.”

  DUK!

  His left hand clenched and struck the table lightly.

  “Then why is this still happening? Can anyone explain?”

  The room fell silent. No one answered the rhetorical question posed by the man seated at the far end of the table—Lieutenant Colonel Suroso.

  At an age nearing retirement, he had been entrusted as head of a special division for mitigation and reduction of Indonesia’s population, formed on January 2nd, 2019, as a rapid response to reports of abnormal disappearances occurring across the globe. This division worked in collaboration with international intelligence agencies to acquire, process, and distribute data regarding the victims.

  “We all know the rule—never be alone in a closed room. We suppressed the issue, slipped security information into the campaign period so the public wouldn’t panic. We gave detailed briefings to government officials so the state wouldn’t collapse, wouldn’t drift aimlessly due to the loss of key personnel. But after yesterday’s bombastic news coverage, why are we still losing our people one by one?!”

  “Mursid! What’s the situation outside?”

  Captain Mursid, a Kopassus officer assigned to assist with security for this special division, responded.

  “Reporting, sir! Foreign intelligence agencies have not issued any special responses; they continue their missions as usual. The public shows no signs of panic, social media displays no destabilizing movements. Several mass media outlets are demanding government accountability to return the missing individuals through press conferences. However, there is one particular report from Division VI, which will be explained by Mr. Suwandi. Report complete!”

  “Mr. Suwandi, please explain.”

  “Division VI reports three viral videos showing results similar to what Captain Elisa proposed. One video from Lemi Natuna presents a theory that disappearances are caused by transmigration to another world. In the video, he explains the procedure and records himself live until he becomes semi-transparent and disappears after passing through a door. Another video from Nuavejo proposes an alien abduction theory; during the video, he merely presents his ideas, but at the end, when he steps away, the camera captures his body turning transparent and vanishing. The third video comes from a new extremist belief group, user name AllforrrYOU. He performs a ritual; nothing happens until he opens his bedroom door—then he turns transparent and disappears.”

  “Elisa.”

  “Reporting, sir! Of the three videos, Lemi’s is the closest to our theory. His explanation aligns with ours, though his content differs—he mentions that we can only bring what we are prepared to carry. We need ideas outside the box like this to complete our test. I request permission to initiate the test once more. Report complete.”

  “Elisa.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “What percentage of personnel disappeared within the unit?”

  “Five percent, sir.”

  “And outside the test?”

  “Two percent, sir.”

  “And the success rate of the test?”

  “…Zero percent, sir.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Suroso stared at the table, contemplating the future of his country. For a brief moment, the face of his grandchild—now listed among the victims—flashed before his eyes. He looked back at Elisa, whose gaze carried a quiet hope for approval.

  May this truly be the final test.

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  “Proceed.”

  “Ready. Executing!”

  “Edwin…”

  The commander continued the meeting and closed it with a prayer.

  May the test conducted by Elisa and her team yield results. We cannot allow this unpredictable phenomenon to continue unchecked. And may those who became victims return safely. Amen.

  The fourth objective testing chamber—referred to as the Transfer Mission Room. The room was filled with charts, data pinned across the walls, computers and laptops, and complete case files of victim samples representing various special conditions. The most striking feature was twenty enclosed booths, designed specifically for experimentation.

  Elisa, as head of the test object, accompanied by researchers, summarized all previous test data, comparing it with prior victim conditions and new data—conscious transfers accompanied by recorded evidence.

  Their mission was to disappear consciously—in other words, to deliberately enter the list of “victims.” They understood the risks and consequences, because their ultimate mission was to return. To return whole. To return with information about what lay beyond their disappearance, and to prevent this phenomenon from continuing beyond control.

  “Good morning!”

  Elisa opened the special briefing with her team—carefully selected individuals trained for all conditions and situations: thirty-six men and six women from various units.

  “This time, we will examine recordings made with the intent of traveling to another world—not nonsense about alien abductions or terrorist conspiracies that many people believe.”

  Lemi’s recording was displayed before them.

  “Here, Lemi strongly desired to leave. He wrote down his intention to go to another world—a planet filled with magic. What he prepared closely resembles our previous trials, but in a minimalist version. This is something we haven’t tried yet—a version aligned with you. In other words, a version of yourselves. Let’s align our mindset. We are all soldiers. We will adventure into another world, explore new lands, gain new powers and experiences, rescue the beautiful princess—”

  “Ahem, ma’am.”

  “Yes, Mel—fine—a handsome prince as well—and bring our comrades, our people, and the citizens of Earth back home.”

  CLAP CLAP

  “DIVISION MISIK!”

  “EXECUTING THE IMPOSSIBLE!”

  “Dismissed!”

  Elisa returned to the researchers, exchanging input and instructions regarding what must be done before, during, and after the transfer. Every thought, emotion, opinion, and psychological state of the participants was thoroughly recorded prior to entering the chambers. Inside, all movements were monitored via surveillance cameras.

  Participants were granted full freedom of expression, released from all military organizational standards. They were only required to carry minimum recommended supplies such as books, writing tools, clothing, food, medicine, and survival gear. Beyond that, any military equipment—combat knives, pistols, rifles, and other gear—was permitted at their discretion.

  “Seriously?”

  Elisa asked her six members, who had now transformed into stunning, angelic figures capable of drawing attention from every man they passed.

  “For comfort, ma’am,”

  said Melani, one of the lead intelligence data analysts.

  “Suit yourselves. Hopefully no unlucky thugs from another world try to approach you,”

  Elisa replied, shaking her head while catching several members stealing glances.

  “Team 1, inspection! Professor, please.”

  Elisa briefed Team 1, recording all parameters they faced.

  “Team 1, enter. Good luck.”

  This is the first time Captain Elisa has allowed casual clothing. Usually we must wear full uniforms and gear to remain responsive in all conditions.

  I looked at the room in front of me.

  Team 1: Melani Tri Aryani—me.

  Team 2: Anggita Khoirunnisa.

  I entered my chamber, usually filled with specialized research equipment. Now, it contained only a table, a chair, a book, and writing tools. I closed the door and walked to the seat.

  Step one: think about another world.

  I wrote down my thoughts, just like in Lemi’s recording.

  Okay, step one report completed. Next—what world do I want to visit? Hmm… definitely a world full of food! Why do they want a magic world? A world filled with delicious food and drinks is way better!

  Whether I liked it or not, I wrote it all down. Hopefully it could become a reference for Captain Elisa. I remembered that behind her gentle smile lay memories she kept buried.

  Oops, maybe this part doesn’t need to be written. Sorry, ma’am.

  My mind wandered, imagining the kinds of food another world might offer. Monster satay? Dragon sushi? Phoenix grilled in sweet soy sauce? Sweet-and-sour Magikarp?

  Ugh, delicious! I don’t know if I should write this… fine, I’ll write—

  Thump.

  Suddenly, I felt something different—something foreign inside my body. My training allowed me to detect even the smallest physical changes, but this wasn’t physical.

  It was psychological.

  I quickly wrote down what was happening.

  I remember Lemi turning transparent. Can they see me turning transparent on the cameras? My phone!

  I opened my phone—no signal at all. Slightly disappointed that the other world had no reception, I walked toward the door at the far end and opened it.

  Words I rarely used escaped my mouth in awe.

  “Wow! Wow wow wow! Amazing! This is a real other world!”

  Before me stood countless buildings shaped like food. I ran through the door into the culinary world I had always dreamed of. Suddenly, many people appeared—materializing transparently in front, beside, even behind me—moving naturally, as if the scenery and the people merged seamlessly once I crossed the threshold.

  I stopped, heightened my awareness, and assumed a defensive stance.

  “Hey…”

  Someone tried to touch my shoulder. Instantly, my hand reacted—I spun, restrained the person, and locked their arm.

  “Ouch… ouch… easy, friend. Ohh, I’m hurt.”

  A blonde-haired woman grimaced in pain before me. I released her and apologized—it wasn’t entirely my fault.

  “Sorry, you scared me. Are you okay? Where are we?”

  Translate Mode: ON.

  My intelligence mode activated. I set myself to operate using a foreign language—one of my most reliable mental techniques, for work and play.

  “Welcome to the world of magical food and drinks, friend. I can tell you’ve just arrived. As someone who’s been here longer, I wanted to welcome you and introduce this wonderful world. Oh, by the way, my name is Michaela.”

  Hmm. Reasonable explanation. Time for Inquiry Mode: ON.

  “Wow, a magical world? I like those words. I hope it fulfills my lifelong dream of a culinary festival. Hi, my name is Mel.”

  And with that, my adventure in another world officially began.

  May my mission succeed—and of course, my eating adventures too.

  Melani, departing!