[19:25 WIB] Base Camp Hall, Rohan Village
The village elders, representatives of the search and rescue team, and the families of the missing hikers had finally gathered. Their purpose was singular: to address the tragedy of the dozen hikers and two rangers who had vanished into the embrace of Mount Vamana’s mist.
Speculation and anxiety ran high, especially among the families of the victims.
The meeting commenced only after every interested party had arrived. At exactly eight in the evening, the official assembly was called to order in the base camp hall—a wooden structure that also served as the village’s customary council hall.
At least forty people filled the room. Outside, dozens of journalists clamored for access, but they were barred from entering, permitted only to wait until the session concluded.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Rohan Village,” the Village Head opened the meeting, his voice heavy yet firm.
“Without further ado... let us begin this closed session. From this moment on, every second is precious—especially for the hikers and the two search team members from our own village,” he added gravely.
“First and foremost, I wish to offer my deepest apologies. Up until now, we have found no trace of the other missing hikers on Mount Vamana,” the Village Head said, his tone laden with regret.
“Then what about our children, Sir? It’s been almost two weeks, yet there’s still no clarity?” a man from the audience interrupted, his voice thick with worry.
“Please, Sir, try to remain calm,” the Village Head soothed.
“This is precisely why we gathered the families and the search team representatives. I can confirm... that some of them... are still alive!”
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Sighs of relief echoed from various corners of the room.
“Alhamdulillah,” one family member whispered, eyes welling with tears.
“Praise God!” another exhaled, breathing steadily for the first time in two weeks.
But the relief was fleeting, quickly displaced by a heavier tension hanging in the air.
“Wait, you said... some of them? What do you mean? Are there... those who passed away?” a middle-aged woman asked, her voice trembling with fear.
“Yes. That is correct, Ma’am,” the Village Head nodded slowly.
“Yesterday afternoon, we successfully evacuated three bodies from the bottom of the ravine. The rest remain missing.”
Silence fell over the room. Only horrified gasps and hushed whispers could be heard.
“C-can you name them, Sir? Who are they?” the woman asked again, dreading the answer.
“Male or female, Sir?” another audience member shouted, impatience rising.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down. Let me read the provisional report,” the Village Head said, raising a hand.
Taking a deep breath, he read the results of the SAR team's investigation from the past two weeks.
“Regarding the identities of the three hikers mentioned... they are the late Daiva Enzi (20), Danindra (21), and Noviyanto (20). All were from the city of Bain.”
“I, as the Village Head, representing the Rohan Base Camp officers, offer our deepest condolences for the tragedy that has befallen the victims,” he said sincerely, bowing his head.
Before the mood could settle, a heart-wrenching scream tore from the front row.
“Enziii!!!”
A neatly dressed man wearing a brown leather cap screamed. His body shook violently, nearly collapsing, but was caught and embraced by the woman beside him, who wailed just as loudly. Both lost control, ambushed by sudden, overwhelming grief.