“Your mother,” Mr. Bambang explained, his voice losing its detached scientific cadence and taking on a somber, almost empathetic tone, “was always sensitive. Too empathic for this cruel world. When your powers began to manifest, even before the lightning event there were fluctuations. Leakage. Subtle, psionic radiation. Our home became a localized field. And your mother, bless her fragile consciousness, was the most receptive.”Raditya felt a crushing weight descend upon him. Psionic radiation? His mother’s illness, the growing anxiety, the increasing fragility. It wasn’t stress. It was him. His nascent, uncontrolled powers, slowly poisoning her.The unspoken truth, cold and unforgiving, resonated deeper than any words could convey. The man he once revered, his protector, had deliberately orchestrated a global mind-wipe project, used him as its primary subject, and unintentionally poisoned his mother in the process. This was the ultimate betrayal, twisting parental love into an act of

Raditya remembers his first soccer game. His father, cheering him on from the sidelines, shouted words of encouragement.“Fight hard, son! Don’t let them beat you!” Raditya scored the game-winning goal, feeling a surge of accomplishment and his father’s pride.But another flash of memory surfaced, the intensity in his father’s eyes. Not that of a proud parent, but of a scientist observing a variable. A data entry appeared at the bottom of that memory, measuring competitive drive and mental resilience under pressure.Then his mother, Mrs. Anna, who seemed fragile yet was always smiling, taught him how to tie his shoelaces while humming a lullaby. Her hand gently caressed his cheek.“No matter what happens, my little Raditya, Mama loves you more than anything.”A memory filled with tender, unconditional love. But this time, there was a deeper crack in that illusion: her hand trembled faintly, and the lullaby she was singing was actually a subtle frequency being broadcast. Raw, unfiltere

Raditya filtered. Pushed back. Forced his mental core to a single point of focus: survival. He channeled the cold, dark energy of the Vibration Zero serum, creating a tiny, contained pocket of almost complete psychic void around himself, Bianca, and Argo. It was exhausting, excruciating, but necessary. The flood of fear, though still sensed as a distant hum, no longer threatened to unravel his mind.Then he saw them. Dozens of figures, clad in the ominous matte-black tactical gear of the foundation’s military. Not just Cleaners, but full-fledged armed soldiers, their faces hidden behind dark visors. They moved with chilling, practiced efficiency, forming tight formations, their advanced frequency disruptors held at the ready.Raditya felt their void, that familiar mental silence that spoke of absolute programming, not genuine humanity. These were not the blundering, mind-shattered Cleaners he'd just encountered, these were predators, hunters.One group of soldiers, positioned near the

Argo began frantically working on the gate’s electronic locks, the sheer destructive force from below reaching critical levels."Hold on, Argo! Bianca first!" Raditya commanded, grabbing the now-flickering, semi-conscious Bianca, hoisting her over his shoulder once more. He ran towards the weakened fence that Argo was desperately hacking.A guttural, terrifying ROAR erupted from deep within the main school building. The very foundations shuddered, then heaved. A blinding, fiery light erupted from every window, every crack, every crevice of Merdeka High.The ground beneath them convulsed violently. A shockwave slammed into Raditya, throwing him forward, making him stumble. He wrapped his body around Bianca instinctively, protecting her from the shrapnel that was already raining down."THEY'RE ACTIVATING SELF-DESTRUCT ON THE WHOLE BUILDING!" Argo roared, pushing him and Bianca towards a weakened section of the perimeter fence, its locks now fizzing from Argo's frantic hacks."THEY'RE ER

Raditya stared at the box, then at her. A twisted gift from a mother who had meticulously orchestrated his misery. The serum. Vibration Zero. The very substance he thought had begun to heal him in the previous chapters, the one his mother just spoke of.The connection snapped into place. She held the true key. Leo's serum was merely a crude, dangerous imitation, a cheap distraction to funnel him back into the Organization's net. This was the pure article, likely what Argo himself had sought or used. This was his chance at a real escape, not just a temporary reprieve.“Why?” Raditya’s voice cracked, not with fear, but with a profound, soul-wrenching agony. “Why would you give me this, after all this?”A single tear, cold and crystalline, finally tracked a path down his mother’s cheek. The first genuine, unplanned emotion Raditya had seen from her since his powers activated. Or perhaps… was it just another expertly executed performance?Her mask, for a fleeting instant, seemed to crack,