Date: Sat, 9 Sep 2023 21:16:43 +0800 From: Fritz Diantan Subject: ADLAO The Hidden Tribe - 02 Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. It involves romantic and/or sexual relationship between men. If you are offended of this subject matter, if you are a minor, or if you are in a place where it is illegal to read this type of literature, please stop reading now. This story will not have explicit sexual scenes/content. Copyright © 2013 by Fritz Diantan. All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the law, no part of this publication may be reproduced without the prior written permission of the Author. Your help is needed. Please support Nifty.org. Donate and keep it alive! https://donate.nifty.org *** ADLAO: The Hidden Tribe Chapter Two: Awakening "Get up!" Obi woke up with a start as the slam of the door rang around his bedroom. His disorientation increased tenfold as the curtains were rudely pulled aside and sunlight flooded to his eyes. Preventing his retinas from bursting into flames, Obi closed his eyes then grabbed his blanket to cover his head. "Oh, no you don't!" Before it even touch his hair, Obi felt the blanket flew out of reach, making him growl in frustration. Using his pillow, he buried his head between it and the bed to try salvaging any remaining drowsiness he had left. "Come on Obi! Get up!" "For freakin' sake! Marc, what the heck do you think you're doing?! Can't you see what I'm trying to do? It's called sleeping!" After Marc wrestled the pillow away, Obi had no choice but to use his hands to block the sunlight. "It's been three days, Obi. Get a grip! Your mom's already worried." After hearing this, Obi exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. "Knew that will get your attention," said Marc with a huge grin. "Now get dressed. We have an exciting day ahead." "What are you talking about?" Sitting up, Obi got a look of himself in the full-length mirror. His hair was pointing in every direction and spit glistened on his left cheek. "When's the last time you took a shower?" asked Marc, throwing a towel to Obi's chest. "Why are you here?" "I have a gift for you, but first, go take a bath and get to the kitchen. Your mom's already made breakfast and I think she wanted to see you before she goes to work." Marc left the room, smiling triumphantly. Knowing that his annoying best friend will only come back if he did not do as he was told, Obi stood up, stripped, and dragged his feet to the bathroom. Though he would have preferred to lie in bed for one more week, Obi let the water wash over him. After the mall incident with Annie, he realized just how frustrating his situation was and tried researching ways on how to get his memories back. The doctor told him that his memories can eventually return on their own and it was much safer to wait it out than take aggressive therapy. But after feeling like a fish out of water for the past week, Obi had had enough. He needed to know what happened to him or he will not be able to go on with his life. "Well, look who it is. Finally got that shower, huh?" said Mrs. Salvio with a smile. "Did I stink that badly?" Obi sat beside his mother, who gave him a kiss. He looked at Marc, who was happily stuffing his mouth with pancakes. "As much as I wanted to stay, I had to go to work. Marc, maybe you can join us for dinner later?" "For your cooking, Mrs. Salvio, I'm always free," said Marc. "How's your parents, Marc? When are they coming back?" asked Mrs. Salvio while she put on her jacket. "I'm not sure. They keep extending their show, but I think they'll be back before Christmas." "That's great. Tell them I said hi. By the way, Obi, there's beef kaldereta on the fridge that you can heat up for lunch. I'll see you two later." Mrs. Salvio kissed Obi on the cheek and whispered, "Don't beat him up too badly." Obi smiled. "Don't worry. I won't send him to the hospital," he whispered back. Mrs. Salvio said goodbye to the two boys and went out the front door. Right after the door closed, Obi threw a pandesal to Marc, making it bounce off his forehead and landing on his pancakes. "Hey! What was that for?" Marc said indignantly. "That's for waking me up like a jerk." "Well, you didn't return my calls or texts, so I had to make sure that you didn't transform into a vampire. I was testing whether you will burst into flames if the sunlight hits you." Another pandesal bounced off Marc's forehead. "Would you stop it with the bread?" "Ok. I'll use the butter knife next time," said Obi as he sipped some coffee. "Well, I hope this will change your mind." Marc stood up and walked towards some boxes near the living room sofa and took a rectangular package. Returning to the table, he handed it to Obi. "What's this?" Obi asked. He inspected it and saw postal stickers, though they were all broken. "My gift. I meant to give it to you at the hospital, but it didn't get ready fast enough." Opening it, Obi took out a large but very thin, matte black laptop. "I figured your computer's ancient by today's standards, so I made this for you," said Marc. "You made it?" Obi put the box aside and placed the laptop on the dining table. It looked beautiful with metal casing and non-glossy screen, all black besides the keyboard buttons, which were white. "I had it customized with the latest specs available. I know what kind of crappy stuff is on the stores right now. It's nearly identical to what I'm using except for the color." "It's beautiful. How much did it cost?" "About a little over hundred fifty thousand," said Marc casually. Taking away his eyes from the computer, Obi stared at his friend in disbelief. "You spent a hundred fifty thousand pesos for a laptop?! That's insane! Where'd you got that kind of money?" "Don't look so shock. I have a job ever since I was sixteen and you know my parents are loaded. This is actually a bit cheaper because the components are easier to get now. When I had mine made, the processor's just got launched." "What kind of job do you have? Are you involved with the mob or something?" "Ha ha, very funny. Remember back in high school when I make websites for small businesses? Turns out a lot of big companies outsource web and software development. I make custom business software, marketing content, graphics, and some other stuff." "Thanks for this, but I don't think I need it? I'm not a computer genius like you. For sure, I'm just going to use it to surf the web," said Obi, thinking that Marc should have given him the money instead. "You sure? It can handle the latest games easily. Really uber awesome RPGs," said Marc, wiggling his eyebrows. "Well, if you put it like that..." Both laughed for a bit. After eating breakfast, Obi and Marc cleaned up the table and went to the living room. "So, what's on the other boxes? More gifts?" asked Obi. Marc grinned, but Obi noticed it was more sinister than usual. "Yup. More gifts." They sat on the sofa and while Obi fiddled with his new computer, Marc opened the box near him. Mesmerized with the crisp animation and fast boot up of the laptop, Obi just had enough time to catch the book Marc threw at him. "Nice catch." "Biology?" "I'm going to review you for your placement exam. I don't have any classes today, so we can take all day." "What? I'm not ready to study right now." "Why's that? We're reviewing, not going to war. All you're gonna do is read the books and some of my papers, then I'll quiz you. You only have just about two months to remember all you learned from freshman to junior year and then study every senior year lesson if you want to pass and not go back to high school. Games can wait." "That's just cruel, man! You give me an awesome hardware, but you won't let me enjoy it?" "It's called an incentive. The faster you study, the faster you'll be able to play with your new, shiny computer. Answer all my questions right and I'll give you the password for your laptop." Obi looked down and just noticed that the computer was showing a log-in screen after the boot up animation. "Should've known it was a bad idea to have a nerd as a best friend," mumbled Obi as he opened the book. "What did you say?" asked Marc, acidly. "I said, `The cell is the smallest part of the body,'" Obi replied sarcastically, reading a sentence from the book. "Yeah, I thought so." Sighing, Obi started to read the first chapter of the book but, to his surprised, it was not boring at all. In minutes, he finished the chapter, so he continued on to the next. After thirty minutes, he only had a third of the book to read when Marc interrupted. "Don't tell me you're just looking at the pictures?" "What? No, I'm reading." "Did you understand what you read?" asked Marc like talking to a three-year-old. "Yes, of course. I'm not a total idiot," said Obi. "Okay, let's see then..." Marc took the book from Obi and flipped back to chapter one. "What's the basic structural and functional unit of all organisms?" "The cell," answered Obi. "What is the powerhouse of the cell?" "The mitochondrion." Marc smiled in surprise, and so did Obi. "Okay," said Marc. "What does DNA stand for?" Obi took a few seconds before answering. "Deoxyribonucleic acid. Did I pronounce that right?" "Yeah, you did. Wow, I couldn't remember you having such a great memory," said Marc. "Actually, I don't. This is kinda weird..." said Obi, frowning. "Hmmm... maybe your brain just matured in the past three years?" Marc suggested. "Yeah... maybe." Obi retrieved the book from Marc and tried to ignore his newfound talent. Back when they were still in high school, Marc has always been the brainier of the two because Obi was more interested in only a handful of subjects and sports. He remembers almost dozing off during their biology classes, so it was very surprising for him to have a really easy time understanding everything now. For the rest of the day, Obi continued to cram as much information as he could into his head. At the beginning, Obi thought it would be such a boring day, but after a while, it became weirdly enjoyable. Marc acted casually, but the situation was beginning to make him wonder and even worry about what really happened to his friend all those years. Obi seemed to have developed some kind of eidetic memory, remembering everything he read, and answering every question thrown at him to the letter. Marc remembered despite Obi being a good student, he was easily distracted and needed time to understand most topics. But now, in just three hours, he was able to read four books about Biology, Chemistry, Algebra, and Economics and was able to recite passages word for word. When Obi picked up a Philippine History book, Marc's head was already throbbing. "I can't believe this... I thought you'd be the first to give up... I'm ashamed," said Marc as he closed his eyes and stretched out. Looking horrified, Obi threw the book back to the box. "What's wrong?" Marc asked, in concern. "No... this can't be..." mumbled Obi, his face contorted as though in agony. "I'm becoming a..." "What?" "A nerd," whispered Obi like saying a taboo word. "Like you!" The history book flew across the room, but Obi caught it before it hit his eye. "Don't worry, between the two of us, you're still the bigger nerd," said Obi, grinning. "But only." "Whatever, shorty," said Marc, who was also grinning. "I'm hungry. Make lunch already." "You're not the boss of me." "Is this how you treat a guest?" "Guest?! Please! You practically grew up in this house. You're like an honorary member of our family... like a pet." "Remember, I still haven't told you the password for your laptop, so start making lunch if you don't want to have a really expensive paperweight." Obi paused and tried to think of a witty response but knew he lost the round. "Well played, Morgan. I guess you're still the king nerd," said Obi as he walked to the kitchen and Marc laughed triumphantly behind him. While the rice slowly cooked, Obi opened the history book on the kitchen counter, but before he can read the first page, something caught his eye and he closed it again. "Hey Marc, do you know what this is?" said Obi, pointing at the book's cover. Marc, who was checking his email using his phone, stood up and went to the counter. Looking down at what Obi was pointing at, he recognized the script immediately. "That's Baybayin. It's the ancient Filipino writing style," said Marc. "Though technically it's not an alphabet, it's--" "That's really weird," said Obi. "I thought they were just dreams." "What are you talking about?" Watching his friend's face intently, Marc can tell that the Baybayin on the book's cover art was freaking out with Obi. "I've been having some weird dreams lately. Actually, they're more like nightmares," said Obi. "I was standing in the middle of a forest clearing and there were people running around, like they were afraid of something. Some were fighting using swords and spears... there were strange lights and explosions everywhere." The visions of the dream had already become a memory to Obi. For almost every night in the past week, the nightmare haunted his sleep. "It was like watching... no, it was like being in a war movie. And I always get killed just before waking up..." The hand that grabbed his shoulder made Obi jerk in surprise. Marc was looking at him, obviously getting crept out because Obi was shaking all over and clutching the book in both hands. "It was just a dream, Obi." Letting go of the book, Obi pointed at the Baybayin script. "No, it felt real. These writings, these markings... they were tattooed on the skin of everyone in that clearing." Obi stood up so fast that Marc nearly dropped his phone. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, Obi began drawing the tattoos of the man who had stabbed and killed him in the dream. Watching intently, Marc's eyes alternated to Obi's face and the paper on the counter, now half full of curling script. When he finished, Obi pushed the paper to Marc as though expecting his friend to start reading it. "I remember these passages on the chest of the man who kills me at the end of my dream," said Obi earnestly. "Okay, let's see if we can translate it," said Marc. Using his phone, Marc searched online for a Baybayin script key. After a few minutes, he was able to transcribe the passage from Baybayin to the Latin alphabet. "Okay. There are a few symbols that are a bit different, but I think we can extrapolate the meaning. The passage says, `Strength is the shield, courage is the weapon... will not be stopped by nobility. Whatever is thrown, I shall return... a hundredfold more severe.'" "What's that supposed to mean?" asked Obi. "Well, as you said, it was tattooed on a warrior's body, so my guess maybe it's like a warning or threat against enemies?" Marc suggested. "Or the man is rebelling against his leaders? Maybe you're dreaming about an ancient coup d'état?" "Why would I be dreaming about this ancient fight?" "Maybe it's just a dream..." Marc watched Obi start pacing, looking very lost and confused. "Or maybe something happened to me the past three years that is messing up with my head." "Obi..." "Think about it. I can't remember the past three years, but somehow, I've developed some kind of photographic memory. I dream of things over and over again with details that I've never seen before in real life. Maybe... I'm going crazy..." "Obi, stop!" said Marc, grabbing his friend's shoulder forcefully. "You are not insane. There is an explanation for all of this. We can't just go jumping to conclusions." "I need to understand, Marc. I need to know what happened to me that made me forget the past three years of my life." "You can't force yourself to just remember. Your doctor said that your memory can eventually go back on its own. It's just a matter of waiting it out." "In the past week, I researched online, and I found some ways... some therapies that can help me get my memories back." "I thought you didn't want to get therapy?" "Yes, but that was before finding out that my life has been turned upside down and that somehow, I became a freak. I deserve to know what happened to me all those years. The treatments I found online... hypnosis, medications, regression therapy... these can give me answers. I'd even try electroshock or eating weird mushrooms if it will help." Marc gave Obi a sympathetic look that his friend avoided. "Those types of therapies are not really guaranteed or even recommended. Some can do more harm than good and many experts say that most people who suffer amnesia might not recover their memories fully. I did my research too the first time you told me you have blank spots--" "These are not just blank spots, Marc," said Obi in earnest. "We're talking about three full years. This is a chunk of my life!" Understanding what his friend felt, Marc went back to the counter, took his phone and searched for a particular number. "Okay. If this is what you really want, I know someone who might be able to help. My Psychology professor... she's a great psychiatrist. I can call in a favor so you can talk to her and get a professional opinion, but Obi... I think you should be open to the possibility that you may not completely get all your memories back." Upon hearing what Marc said, Obi finally stopped pacing. "You can call in a favor?" he asked with raise eyebrows. "I designed her website last semester, which increased her client list," said Marc, shrugging a little. "Plus, I'm her best student." "I guess being a nerd has many benefits... thank you, Marc." Finally calming down, Obi went back to preparing lunch while Marc called his professor for an appointment. Overhearing the conversation, Obi thought it seemed weird how casual his best friend and the professor talked over the phone. "Okay. Dr. Sanchez said she'll be able to see you on Friday," said Marc after the call. "You sound really close to Dr. Sanchez," said Obi pointedly. "Yeah. I'm her favorite student." "Uh, huh. Okay." "What?" Marc asked, confused by Obi's reaction. "Nothing." Obi smiled silently and continued to reheat the kaldereta in the pot. He can feel Marc's eyes on him, but Obi just continued to act coolly. Then, after a few more seconds, Marc's eyes became big as saucers when it dawned on him why Obi was smiling like an idiot. "Oh no! You think... It's not what you think, perv!" Obi looked up and saw his friend blushing. His smile turned into a grin. "I didn't say anything." "Yeah, but you're thinking it. You know what? I'm cancelling your appointment." "Hey! I'm just pulling your leg. Grow a sense of humor, why don't you?" Obi was laughing openly while Marc tried to ignore him, but failed when a piece of carrot flew from the pot to his head. "What the hell? Can you stop using food as a weapon!" said Marc, wiping his hair with a paper towel. "You're so immature." "That's because I'm a fifteen-year-old mind trapped in an eighteen-year-old body." "Well, don't think that makes you special... most guys are like that." *** "Thanks, Mrs. Salvio. Your cooking is always delicious," said Marc. "You're such a suck up," jeered Obi. "Yeah, right? Coming from someone who begged for thirds." Knowing very well where the discussion was going, Mrs. Salvio stood up and announced dessert, which totally distracted both boys. "So, what have you two been up to today?" she asked, while putting a huge slice of chocolate cake on Obi's plate. "Umm... just studying... all day," said Marc with a big, tight smile. Mrs. Salvio raised an eyebrow, then looked at Marc, then on Obi, who was too engrossed with eating his cake. "Marcus, what are you not telling me?" Mrs. Salvio said sweetly, but the undertone made Marc clear his throat to his best friend. Obi ignored Marc and continued eating, but a bit faster than before. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Salvio," said Marc desperately. "Well, then... I guess no cake for you," she said. Then, she turned to her son, intending to confiscate the undeserved dessert, but Obi's plate was already empty. "I'm done," Obi announced innocently. "Obi made me call Dr. Sanchez so that she can help him retrieve his memories using therapy," blurted Marc suddenly. Both mother and son looked at Marc so fast that he stared down on his plate and turned scarlet. To Marc's surprise, a slice of cake came into his view as Mrs. Salvio pat him on the shoulder. "Marc, what the hell?" whispered Obi while his mother's back was on them. "Threw me under the bus much?" "Sorry, but she held my cake hostage," Marc whispered back while circling his right arm around his plate protectively. "And what's the big deal? She's still gonna know. Dr. Sanchez is friends with your mom." "What? Since when?" "Well, a year ago, there was a play at my school and I was in charge of lights and sound effects, and I invited your mom to watch because she always stayed here alone. She sat beside Dr. Sanchez and they became friends." "You in a school play? Really?" Obi mocked. "It was a college school play. I was never on stage, but I was awesome. Deal with it," said Marc, popping a piece of cake into his mouth. "And it's for extra credit." Sliding a new plate of cake in front of Obi, Mrs. Salvio took her seat again. Obi's eyes sparkled as he ate his second helping. "I thought you didn't want to get therapy." "I guess, I just want to know if it's still possible to remember," said Obi. "And if my memories don't come back, at least I tried?" "I understand. And I suppose there's no one better than Cecilia." "I'm not sure if I'm okay having a therapist that's friends with my mother," Obi joked. "And why's that?" asked Mrs. Salvio. "What if I tell my therapist something that I don't want you to know?" "Well, I don't have to ask your therapist. I know for a fact you tell everything to Marc, so I'll just bribe him with cake and he'll spill everything." "I knew it! All those free meals were part of mental and behavioral conditioning," said Marc, pretending to drop his fork in shock. All three of them laughed. "I think we should go on a vacation or something," said Mrs. Salvio. "Out of town." Both Obi and Marc looked up excitedly. "But, I think it should happen after your placement exam so you'll have something to look forward to... a motivation of sorts." Mrs. Salvio and Marc grinned as Obi groaned and rolled his eyes. *** Inside a corporate office, topping one of the highest buildings in the city, he stood proud overlooking the night sky framed by the tall skyscrapers of the metropolis, a number of which he owned. Many people knew him, or rather his name, as his family was one of the most influential clans in the country's history. Clever his ancestors had been to conceal the truth behind their family's power to ensure that even though most of the population knew what their name represented, only a few people can truly grasp the totality of their reach. Unknown to the commoners unseen from his position, he had the power to direct their future without even stepping out of his office. He was dressed in his usual crisp suit, black, of course. Standing taller than the average man, he was trained to always project a sense of regality, even though royalties have long been extinct in the culture of the country. Cold, determined, and unshakable yet debonair if company or circumstances required of it, a person with intuition will know better than to get too close or else pay the price of getting snared with no possibility of salvation. Pensive, he continued to look out the tall windows of his office, a half empty glass of brandy on his hand. Though he looked calm and collected, inside he was brimming with impatience. He knew the plan may take a long time, months or even a year, but he could not prevent himself from feeling powerless. He was impatient to push the pieces and get the circumstances to move, but knew better than to lose his cool. A great hunter must stay low until the precise moment to strike... Three taps on the door broke his thoughts, but he was expecting this visitor. He walked towards his mahogany table and sat down before saying, "Enter." A petite girl, not older than twenty years, walked in carrying a few folders. She was confident, but knew her place as she stood in front of the man, avoiding eye contact at all cost. "Good evening, sir," said the girl, putting the folders on the table. An onlooker might think she was just an ordinary assistant: beautiful, young, and eager to please with a hint of innocence. But just like her employer, she was far from being average. Trained with great precision to deliver only what was expected, she was a slave with unwavering loyalty. The man quickly opened the files and in less than a minute was able to read everything. Though the results were up to his instructions, he could not stop but feel dissatisfied and let out a sigh. Hearing this, the girl could not help but close her eyes and even if she tried to hide it, she trembled ever so slightly. "Don't worry. I'm not upset with the progress," said the man, not because he wanted to console her but more in annoyance at seeing unnecessary weakness. "So, the asset is still in place? And they already made their move..." "Yes, sir. Our agents reported at least six were positioned around the asset's residence. The asset is still unaware but will be taking steps to try to retrieve his memories--" said the girl, who relaxed a bit. "Yes, yes. I read the file," said the man curtly. "I'm very sorry, sir." "Reduce the frequency during his therapy but only very minimal... just enough to let him remember a few things. Are the engineers certain we cannot control what he remembers?" "No, sir. But the doctors supposed that he will remember the earliest experiences first." "Good. Monitor him carefully during that therapy. I don't want him knowing too much, too fast." "Yes, sir." All this time, the man was looking directly at the girl, carefully studying her. She had been his assistant for a few months now and, to be honest, he was already getting bored. But changing to another girl might not be a good idea while the asset was still on the field. "Come," said the man as he swiveled his chair to face the right wall. The girl knew what was expected of her and slowly approached the man. Even though she was already standing in front of him, she still made sure that her eyes remained low. She knelt down, careful not to make contact until instructed. The man looked down at the girl's bowed head, her hair neatly parted to flow smoothly in front of her shoulders. She was pretty, but it had been a very long time ago since he was able to appreciate beauty. Relaxing in his chair, the man leaned back further and said one final word: "Begin." End of Chapter 2 of 18 To be continued. *** Afterword: Hello everyone. I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of ADLAO: The Hidden Tribe. If you enjoy my stories, you can buy me a coffee! :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/fridianworlds Or you can send me an email. Your feedback is as great as coffee :) Below are the links to my other stories: Love Assassin (anti-hero love story) https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/love-assassin/ Falling for a Straight Guy (coming-of-age story) https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/falling-for-a-straight-guy/ The next chapter for FSG will be posted in a few days. Thank you! Fritz theadlaotribe@gmail.com