[07:50 AM] Train Carriage
Realizing that he had managed to board the train at the very last second, Akasa finally felt a sense of relief.
Yet unease lingered in his chest. His friends were nowhere to be seen.
Moments later, he remembered the message Gita had sent earlier. When he checked it, he realized it contained the seat numbers they had booked well in advance.
“Car 4: Seat 13B… 11, 12… this should be it, right?” Akasa muttered, walking slowly as he matched the numbers one by one.
“It’s correct… but why is it so empty? Where did everyone go?” he wondered aloud.
He scanned the area, but aside from a single middle-aged man sitting calmly in the back row, the carriage appeared deserted.
The man looked to be around fifty. His skin was dark and weathered, slightly wrinkled with age. A short but thick mustache and beard framed his face, both streaked with white. His hair—entirely gray—was covered by a blangkon. He wore a traditional Javanese surjan and held a wooden cane in his hand.
Without sensing any danger, Akasa approached him, hoping to ask for information. Perhaps the man had seen his friends.
“Um… excuse me, sir,” Akasa said politely. “Did you happen to see a group of people my age enter this carriage earlier?”
The man didn’t answer. He simply stared ahead, his expression unreadable, before giving a slow, almost deliberate shake of his head.
Akasa frowned. He studied the man more carefully—and that was when he noticed something unusual.
The man’s eyes were different colors. His right eye was a normal dark brown. But the left… the cornea was cloudy, tinged with pale blue—like someone suffering from cataracts.
“Oh… alright then. Thank you, sir,” Akasa said softly, giving a small nod before turning away.
“Looks like we’re in different carriages,” he thought as he reached for his phone. “I should call them.”
But when he checked the screen, his heart sank. The phone was completely dead.