30 Days to Unmake a Monster
"Ten years from now, you are my husband. And you are the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth." Raka Satya is a struggling freelance designer living in a suffocating studio apartment, drowning in bills and desperation. His stagnant life is shattered when Luna, a stunning woman in an expensive trench coat, storms into his room claiming he owes her a "debt of happiness".
Using futuristic technology, Luna reveals a terrifying truth: in a decade, Raka will become a wealthy, cold-hearted mogul who destroys everyone he loves—especially her. To prevent this future, Luna initiates "Toxic Marriage Training," a series of brutal simulations designed to break Raka's ego and teach him the cost of his future sins.
But there is a deadly catch: every spark of genuine affection between them accelerates a countdown on Luna’s wrist, siphoning away her time in the past. As a dark "Echo" from the future hunts them to keep destiny on its cruel tracks, Raka must learn to change his soul before the woman who came to save him disappears forever.
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Chapter: Chapter 12: Memory FragmentationThe violet light that had filled the room didn't so much fade as it was sucked back into a singular point on Luna’s wrist, leaving behind a silence so heavy it felt physical. The air tasted of ozone and burnt copper, the acrid scent of a short-circuited reality. Raka stood frozen, his hand still clutching the crinkled photograph of a future he had inadvertently helped build. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, a frantic rhythm that matched the erratic flickering of the single overhead bulb."Luna?" Raka’s voice was a ragged whisper. She was sprawled on the floor, her body unnervingly still. The expensive trench coat she had arrived in was scorched at the hems, and her skin—usually the color of pale porcelain—now possessed a terrifying translucency. He could almost see the faint, glowing lattice of blue veins beneath her temples, pulsing with a light that shouldn't exist in human biology.Raka scrambled across the debris of his shattered life, his knees hitting th
Last Updated: 2026-04-29
Chapter: Chapter 11: Remnants of HumanityThe two hundred million rupiahs sitting in Raka’s bank account felt less like a windfall and more like a bag of lead tied around his neck. Every time his phone vibrated with a notification, he didn't see numbers; he saw the face of the old man in the tattered clothes, his eyes wide with a terror so primal it felt as if Raka had already reached through time and snatched the breath from his lungs."Stop it, Raka," Luna’s voice cut through the humid afternoon air, sharp as a glass shard. She was leaning against the cool marble of a storefront, her arms crossed, watching him with a detached, clinical intensity. "You’re spiraling over a ghost. He’s gone.""He isn't a ghost!" Raka snapped, his chest heaving as he loosened the tie that felt like a noose. "You heard him, Luna. He called me 'Honorable Mr. Raka.' He begged me not to tear down his home. That man isn't from my past—he’s a casualty of the man you’re trying to prevent me from becoming. And I just let him run away!"Without waiting
Last Updated: 2026-04-29
Chapter: Chapter 10: The Price of a Cold VictoryThat morning, it wasn’t the sunlight that roused Raka, but the sharp, rhythmic pulse of pain at the tip of his finger. He opened his eyes to find a pristine white bandage wrapped around the wound—far too meticulous to be his own handiwork. He glanced at the empty side of the bed; Luna was already gone. The apartment was deathly quiet, though the atmosphere had shifted. The lingering stench of neglected trash had been purged, replaced by the sterile scent of disinfectant and the heavy, bitter aroma of dark coffee. Raka sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at his bandaged hand. The memories of the previous night came flooding back: the shattered remains of his mother’s glass, and the raw, suffocating urge he’d felt to scream in Luna’s face.Stop staring at that bandage as if it’s a medal of honor, Luna’s voice drifted from the direction of the desk.Raka turned. She was sitting there, clad in a sharp, formal charcoal-gray blazer, her hair pulled back into a severe, polished style. T
Last Updated: 2026-04-08
Chapter: Chapter 9: The Curriculum of Hate and the Fracturing of HopeThe silence in the apartment this morning felt like a dull blade being dragged slowly across skin. The warm aroma of fried rice was gone, replaced by the stinging, sterile odor of chemical cleaners. It felt as though Luna were trying to scrub away every lingering trace of humanity from the room.Raka sat on the edge of his seat, watching Luna’s rigid silhouette against the window. She hadn't looked at him once since they returned from the park. The clock on her wrist had stopped its frantic blinking, now settled on a chilling 12:15:30:45. They had gained fifteen hours, but the cost was an atmosphere so thick it was suffocating.Luna, Raka said, his voice a dry rasp. We don’t have to do this. There has to be another way besides making me despise you.Luna turned slowly. Her eyes, which had briefly flickered with warmth the night before, were once again two impenetrable blocks of ice. She held a thick red folder—some relic summoned from her future.Another way? She let out a short, acer
Last Updated: 2026-04-08
Chapter: Chapter 8: A Date on the Brink of RuinThe morning light filtered through the cracks in the tattered curtains, casting long golden streaks across the floor of Raka’s apartment. The place felt wider now, not because the square footage had changed, but because Raka had finally started clearing out the towers of instant noodle cups and moldy design magazines. He realized that if he wanted to fix his heart, he had to start with the space he lived in.In the corner of the room, Luna was still fast asleep. It was the first time Raka had seen her sleep past her usual hour. She was curled into a small ball, arms wrapped tightly around a flattened pillow. Her face, usually so guarded and masked in secrets, looked remarkably innocent, though the deep circles under her eyes betrayed a hidden exhaustion. Raka approached her with feather-light steps, practically holding his breath. He caught a glimpse of the watch on her wrist, which lay resting against the blanket. 22:11:55:00. The numbers were motionless. Static.Is that a good sign
Last Updated: 2026-04-08
Chapter: Chapter 7: Past Baggage and the Cracked MirrorThe pungent aroma of dark roast coffee cut through the air, overpowering the familiar scent of dust and old paper that usually clung to Raka’s studio apartment. This morning felt different. There was no aggressive pounding on the door, no water splashed over his laptop. Instead, there was only a gentler, more inviting silence, punctuated by the soft clink of a silver spoon against porcelain.Luna sat perched on the windowsill, the morning sun highlighting her sharp yet achingly soft features. She had swapped her usual attire for something more contemporary—a black turtleneck and tailored trousers that gave her the effortless air of a successful architect on a weekend break. On her wrist, the crimson digits of the timer continued their steady, relentless countdown: 22:11:45:02.Raka took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes still a bit puffy from sleep. Did you make this?Luna turned her head slowly. I used the beans you kept on the top shelf. They were nearly expired, but they still had
Last Updated: 2026-04-08
