After what felt like an eternity, Kaivan opened the Tome of Omnicent again, searching for guidance. But the pages remained silent.
He closed it gently and said, quiet yet resolute, "We're going back to the villa."
The decision washed away every doubt.
They began descending the hill. Their heavy footsteps followed the shifting colors of the sky, night fading, dawn rising. The morning wind carried the scent of wet leaves, but even the soft light of sunrise failed to dispel the unease lingering in their chests.
At the foot of the mountain, the car waited in silence. Raphael and Isabel had left it there earlier, knowing their return would not be as simple as the climb. Only the rustling leaves greeted them now, as though the forest itself held its breath after what had unfolded.
Kaivan walked at the front, eyes fixed on the cold crystal in his grip. It hadn't reacted, not even once, yet something deep inside told him it held more than they understood. Felicia followed close behind, her expression hidden beneath the shadow of dawn. Radit and Raphael moved in silence. At Kaivan's side, Isabel glanced at him now and then, wanting to speak, choosing not to.
But far above them, another sound echoed.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Uneven.
From behind the ruined walls of Radio Malabar, a figure emerged, barely recognizable.
Rapi.
His body was torn with open wounds, dried blood streaking his hollowed face. Yet he walked, step by step, toward William's stiff, lifeless form lying in the grass.
In the hush of early dawn, Rapi sank to her knees. Her breath trembled, her body shaking as she reached for William's cold hand, clasping it with quivering fingers.
"I failed too… I'm sorry," she whispered. Her voice drowned in blood, dust, and the tears that finally fell.
Slowly, she lifted her weapon. The barrel hovered near her temple. Her bloodied finger began to pull the trigger, until something stopped her.
A small hand.
Rapi froze. Beside her stood a young boy, about six years old, with pitch-black eyes that pierced straight into the soul. His clothes were simple, but something about him felt wrong, unnatural. He held her gaze and spoke in a foreign tongue, soft yet cutting:
"Tu das nicht, komm mit ihm, Mädchen, ihr werdet euch verstehen."
Rapi didn't understand the words. But the tone, calm, deep, washed away the urge to die. Something inside her trembled, touched in a place nearly ruined.
Then the boy turned toward the ruins. From the darkness, a woman emerged. Her steps were silent, her silhouette faintly glowing. Graceful. Commanding. She raised her hand toward the shattered debris.
The earth stirred. Cracks mended, holes sealed shut. Rubble dissolved, replaced by fresh green grass that sprouted without a sound. The air shifted, the stench of death fading into the scent of morning dew.
Rapi stood frozen as the woman met her eyes and smiled.
"He said… come with us. Because the two of you will understand each other."
Her voice was gentle, yet left no room to resist. Rapi glanced at the boy, then back at the woman. Confusion swirled, but a quiet calm seeped in, like an embrace she had long forgotten.
With a heavy breath, she dropped the gun. It hit the ground softly, a small metallic chime marking the end of a path. Grass swallowed the weapon in silence.
The woman turned and walked into the forest. The young boy followed without a word. Rapi stared at their backs, then finally stepped forward, leaving death behind, and perhaps entering something far stranger.
As she disappeared among the trees, a gentle breeze swept across the mountain's peak. The place that had witnessed tragedy returned to stillness, no blood, no trace of battle. As if everything that happened that night was nothing more than a fading dream.
Morning light crept over the horizon, chasing away the night's lingering mysteries. The sky still held faint stars, reluctant to fade, as though they remained to watch the weight carried by those who survived.
Inside the car descending the winding path back to the villa, silence pressed down on them. The memory of Gunung Puntang hung over every passenger like an unspoken shadow.
Felicia sat in the middle seat, arms crossed as she leaned back. Her gaze wandered out the window, following the trees touched by dawn. Cool morning air slipped in through the slightly open window, carrying the scent of dew and damp soil. She inhaled deeply, then looked at the wounds on her arms, scratches, bruises, faint reminders that they had nearly died. Her eyes dulled; within them lingered flashes of battle, betrayal, and senseless death.
From the back seat, Thivi stirred. Her eyelids fluttered before opening slowly. Her vision blurred, her body weak, her thoughts scattered.
"Didn't I… walk out of the villa earlier?" she muttered. Her voice was hoarse, her breaths short, as though waking from a nightmare. "Why am I in the car?"
Raphael, slumped in the very back, kept his gaze distant, still lost in last night's aftermath. He answered in a flat, heavy tone, "A lot happened… Just rest for now."