NARAK: The Blood Covenant

Denpasar, Bali — Morning after The Chaos was erased

Location: Hotel Garuda Mertha – Meeting Hall

The room was in chaos.

Not The Chaos—thankfully.Just regular, teenage, low-stamina, post-vacation-student chaos.

Papers flying. Coffee cups clanking.

The projector blinking like it had given up on life.

And in the middle of it all…

Pak Arjuna, the ever-tired civics teacher, looked one emotional breakdown away from turning into a leak ghost himself.

"I've give you all two days… TWO! DAYS! And now? WHAT IS THIS?!"

One student handed in a worksheet with an oil stain and a drawing of a monkey on a scooter.Another turned in a seashell.

"But Sir, that seashell is spiritually…"

Meanwhile, across the room...

Nayla sat with her arms crossed, steam practically rising from her ears.

On the table in front of her were four neatly printed reports, none of which had been touched by the boys she calls "teammates."

To her left: Raka, snoring, drooling, face smushed into his pillow.To her right: Vicki, still unconscious but looking dramatically handsome as if posing for a mythical painting.And on the balcony, casually sipping guava juice: Putri, her hair blowing like she was in a shampoo commercial.

"Hey… I helped, ya know," Putri chimed with a wink."I cheered. That counts as support magic."

Nayla didn't answer.

Instead, she lifted her palm and a quiet hum echoed beneath the table.

Daramahesa's tail flicked.

"Oh no. You're not really going to cheat, are you?""After all that talk about moral high ground and responsibility?"

"Shut up," Nayla hissed."I'm stress-cheating."

"Mmm," the cat purred."I'm sure Anata would be so proud."

Nayla growled.

Her fingers danced across the paper.

A soft violet shimmer traced ancient characters across each page.

Magical ink.

Ghost-approved formatting.

Plagiarism-proof spell seals.

"There. Done."

Putri clapped once.

"You're terrifying and I love it."

"Thanks," Nayla said flatly.

Just then, Raka stirred and mumbled half-asleep:

"Tell the ghost teacher I'm submitting my chakra…"

"Shut up, Raka," Nayla muttered again.

The trio—plus cat—submitted their "project."

Pak Arjuna glanced at the papers, blinked at the ancient glowing symbols, and decided internally not to ask questions.

"It fascinatingly good. Next."

Across the room, someone's PowerPoint presentation caught fire.

Someone else got caught trying to submit a receipt from McDonald's as a cultural artifact.

Everything was exactly as chaotic as it should be.

But in the middle of the noise…Nayla's eyes briefly flicked to the window.

For just a second, she saw something move behind her reflection.

Bali – Kuta Beach11:43 AM – Last Day of the Study Tour

"Bro… if heaven had a beachfront, it'd look like this," Raka sighed, sprawling dramatically across a sunbed.

Waves crashed gently in the background. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue. Tourists drifted like dots in the distance, and the scent of coconut oil danced on the wind.

The trio—Vicki, Raka, Nayla—plus Putri and Daramahesa were posted near the quieter end of the beach, away from the chaos of souvenir stalls and banana boat tourists.

After the recent horror-show of fighting Chaos herself, the beach felt unreal. Like the world had been reset.

"I still can't believe we almost died," Putri said casually, sipping from a fresh kelapa muda, a drink made of fresh coconut water with some coconut meat mixed with ice and palm sugar syrup."Again."

"I can," Daramahesa muttered, perched atop a beach chair like a judgmental aristocrat.

"You're all chronically addicted to near-death experiences."

Nayla rolled her eyes and adjusted her sunhat.

"You're a talking cat. You don't get to complain."

"Correction. I'm a reincarnated mystic entity forced to endure this teenage soap opera while trapped in a fur prison.""There's a difference."

Vicki didn't say much.

He just stared at the horizon, the sea glinting red in his eyes like it recognized him.

"You okay?" Nayla asked.

Vicki nodded slowly.

"I'm just… taking it in. Before the next disaster starts."

"And also, is he my real Dad?"

Just then—

A white cat appeared.

Out of nowhere.

Not "ran up" or "walked from the distance."

Just... There, seated gracefully on the sand a few meters away, tail curled neatly around its paws.

Its fur shimmered, too clean for a beach stray.Eyes like starlight, impossibly old, utterly still.

Raka pointed at it.

"Ayo. No way we're doing this again. Another talking cat?"

Daramahesa blinked.

"I—no. That's not one of us."

The white cat turned its head slowly...directly toward Nayla.

"You've begun to ask questions," it said calmly.Its voice echoed slightly, like it spoke through layers of air.

Putri choked on her coconut.

"Did… did it just talk?"

"Yes," said the cat. "Again."

Vicki stepped forward instinctively.

"Who are you?"

The white feline rose to its feet and padded a few steps closer.

Its paws didn't leave tracks in the sand.

"I am not who you seek," it said simply."But I watch what she protects."

Nayla narrowed her eyes.

"She?"

"The one who asks."

The beach breeze died.

Just for a moment.

Even the ocean seemed to hold its breath.

Daramahesa's fur puffed up slightly.

"This isn't just a messenger," he hissed lowly."This thing's been near The Question."

The white cat turned its glowing gaze toward him.

"The echoes of old Dharma still linger. Whispering things not meant to be heard."

"Sassy," Daramahesa muttered."I like her less already."

Putri finally stood up, brushing sand from her legs.

"Okay. Is this like an info drop moment or do we have to solve a riddle for answers?"

The cat tilted its head, amused.

"She is awake," it said softly."And she has begun to remember."

The group went quiet.

Even Raka.

Especially Raka.

"Wait," Nayla whispered."Is The Question… a person?"

The cat blinked slowly.

"She has no mouth. But she speaks in ruins.And soon… She will answer back."

The tide suddenly pulled hard.

A massive wave built, then crashed down far in the distance, shaking the shore for a moment.

When they looked back, the cat was gone.

Not a single pawprint left in the sand.

Silence.

"Well," Raka said finally, still holding a half-melted ice cream cone."I vote we never come to the beach again."

"Agreed," Putri said quickly.

"Too late," Daramahesa sighed."You're all already in the plot now."

Far above, in a realm not meant for the living,a woman without a mouth opened her eyes for the first time in centuries.

Surrounded by scrolls that wrote themselves in reverse.And mirrors that only showed what wasn't there.

Garuda Indonesia GA421 – Denpasar to JakartaAltitude: 37,000 ftTime: 7:12 PM

The airplane hummed steadily.

Most of the students were either asleep, binge-watching K-dramas, or trying to convince the flight attendant to give them a third cup of apple juice.

But at row 18 A to D, something else was happening entirely.

"So let me get this straight," Raka whispered, leaning closer to Vicki across the aisle."We've fought ghosts, a cursed mirror demon, and a literal abstract embodiment of chaos…"

"Yup," Vicki muttered.

"And now... we're dealing with a child?"

"Not a child," Nayla corrected from her seat beside Raka, pulling her hoodie up.

"The Question is a conceptual metaphysical embodiment of curiosity and forgotten truth, probably cursed with the innocence of childhood."

"Okay." Raka blinked. "So… a child."

Suddenly, they all went still.

A flicker. A whisper.

Like cold static inside their minds.

And then—

"–You're all being far too loud about this."

The voice echoed through their thoughts.

Avici.

Sarcastic. Flame-laced. Borderline annoyed.

Vicki groaned.

"You don't knock?"

"You left the door wide open," Arkana added calmly. "Also, we've brought company."

Suddenly, Putri jolted in her seat.

Her coconut candy fell to the floor.

"Uhm. Hello?" she said, blinking rapidly.

"Why do I hear your edgy demons in my head now?"

"Congratulations," Avici purred.

"You've been subscribed to Premium Soul Link™."

"I didn't click anything!"

"That's what they all say."

Putri looked at Nayla, eyes wide.

"You've been putting up with these two inside your heads all this time?!"

Nayla smirked, sipping her bottled water.

"Welcome to the club. No refunds."

Vicki rubbed his temples.

"Okay—focus. The cat said something yesterday. About The Question 'remembering.' About 'speaking in ruins.' What does that mean?"

Avici's voice turned serious.

"The Question is ancient. Older than most myths, but she wears the shape of something familiar."

"A child," Arkana confirmed. "That is her form. Not for power. For precision."

Raka leaned back.

"So… why a kid?"

"Because children ask questions without fear," Arkana said quietly.

"Because only children look at the world and ask why the sky cries, or where dreams go when we wake up."

"And because," Avici added, "when people grow older, they stop asking."

Silence.

Even the background hum of the plane felt heavier.

"So she's… forgotten?" Putri asked softly.

"More like ignored."

"But she's watching again now."

Daramahesa, curled in Nayla's lap, yawned.

"Lovely. Another cosmic baby with abandonment issues."

Nayla flicked his ear.

"You're no better."

"I'm elegant trauma. She's existential trauma."

"Same thing."

Then—

The lights in the cabin flickered.

Just for a second.

Nobody screamed. Nobody noticed.

Except them.

And then, all four of them turned slowly to the window.

Nothing.

Clouds.

And then a single finger.

Tapping the outer glass from the outside.

Tiny.

Pale.

A child's.

And then it vanished.

Putri's voice cracked:

"Did anyone else—"

"Yup," Vicki whispered.

"Cool cool cool… NOT PANICKING."

"We're being watched again," Nayla muttered.

"She doesn't understand why you stopped asking."It was Arkana this time.

"And she will ask you one more time soon…before she makes you remember."

As the plane soared quietly into the dark.

Far below, in a forest where no path should exist,a small girl with no mouth sat by a shrine of broken dolls.

She looked up.Tilted her head.

And scribbled something invisible into the dirt.