WORLD OF BEASTS: The World That Split The Earth

Without Light

Chapter 002: Without Light

The bus sat dead in the darkness.

There was barely enough light for eyes accustomed to brightness to feel at ease. Only the fading flame of a few disposable lighters flickered now and then, dancing briefly in the air before leaving behind faint shadows between the rows of seats.

Amid that uncertainty, the tension gripping the thirty-six vocational high school students, one teacher, one driver, and one driver's assistant could no longer be concealed.

"Pak Supir, the assistant, and I... we were all at the front," Rezvan said seriously. "The three of us saw what was ahead before we ended up trapped in this darkness. Did any of you see us entering somewhere?"

His heartbeat quickened.

Something was wrong.

For the past several minutes, his instincts had been repeating the same warning over and over.

"I'm sorry, Pak... I don't know either." Pak Marta slowly shook his head, his pale face faintly illuminated by the lighter's flame. "I'm certain we were still on the highway just a moment ago."

"Pak... could we have entered Saranjana?" Arka suddenly asked from the seat directly behind the driver.

He looked tense, yet there was a spark of excitement he couldn't quite hide in his voice—a mixture of fear and curiosity that often surfaced when someone came face to face with something that had only ever existed in stories.

"Don't be ridiculous, kid! Since when does Saranjana appear in the middle of a highway?!" Pak Marta snapped reflexively.

Even so, his voice sounded more like someone trying to convince himself than anyone else.

"No one has ever proven whether Saranjana truly exists. For now, let's treat it as nothing more than a legend, Arka," Rezvan replied calmly.

Even so, deep inside, he had begun to doubt his own words.

Dina, who was sitting beside Arka, spoke up as well.

"But, Pak Rezvan, we all know we were on the highway just now... so how could we suddenly end up somewhere like this?"

"She's right, Pak," Kirana added from several rows behind them. "Even if that fog appeared out of nowhere... we were on a busy highway. If the bus had suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, another vehicle should've crashed into us. But we've been sitting here this whole time... and nothing happened."

Rezvan fell silent.

His logic was beginning to collide with the reality before his eyes.

As a teacher, he was accustomed to searching for rational explanations for everything.

Yet the longer this continued, the harder everything became to explain.

"Everyone, stay calm," Rezvan said.

He drew a slow breath before continuing.

"You've got a point, Kirana. But if what the assistant said is true... if this was caused by an EMP... then it's possible."

"All right," the assistant interrupted politely. "We can think about all that later. Right now, we need some light."

The students immediately began rummaging through their backpacks and pockets.

Several minutes passed.

Nothing.

No flashlights.

No lamps.

Nothing that could help them pierce the darkness.

"Huff..." Rezvan let out a long sigh.

"Come on, this is an emergency. I won't report any of you. I know some of you keep lighters for smoking... take them out. We need them so we can see what's around us."

The result—

Nearly half the students immediately raised their hands.

Rezvan rubbed his temples, unsure whether he should laugh or scold them.

Pak Marta and Rafandra could only suppress smiles, reminded that their own younger days had not been much different.

Some time later—

"Pak... Pak..."

A panicked voice called out from the middle of the bus.

"Pak! Pak Rezvan! Please!"

Damar waved frantically.

Rezvan hurried over.

"Ardi? Damar? Is that you?... What's wrong?"

Damar and Ardi were both supporting Danang, whose body was trembling violently.

"I-I don't know, Pak... Danang's acting strange..." Damar answered anxiously.

"Danang..."

Rezvan crouched halfway in front of the student, but the light was too dim to see clearly.

"I... I can't breathe, Pak..." Danang gasped. "My chest... it hurts..."

"Do you have asthma?!" Rezvan asked immediately.

The driver's assistant quickly approached, holding up a lighter.

Its tiny flame revealed Danang's face.

He was deathly pale.

Cold sweat covered his temples.

His chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven breaths.

Danang weakly shook his head.

Rafandra frowned.

His expression instantly turned grave as he looked at Rezvan.

Their eyes met.

No words were needed.

Danang's condition was serious.

Both of them knew it.

"Pak..." Damar called again, his voice shaking. "I feel cold too... Just like Danang. I've been struggling to breathe for a while now..."

A few seconds later—

Complaints began erupting from every direction.

Coughing.

Labored breathing.

Gasping.

Panicked groans.

The sounds blended into a suffocating chaos.

Danang wasn't the only one.

"Does anyone here have asthma?" Rezvan asked.

His voice was already beginning to sound desperate.

One by one, students slumped back into their seats.

Their faces flushed red.

Their breathing grew heavier.

Their bodies weakened.

The bus became a chamber of panic.

"Stay here. I'm going outside to get help," Rezvan declared as he headed toward the bus door.

Then—

Thud!

The assistant reflexively grabbed his arm.

Rezvan immediately turned around.

"What is it?" he asked, confused.

"Don't go outside," the assistant said quietly, but firmly.

"Bang, the kids are in trouble. The bus is dead, none of the phones work, and I have to go find help," Rezvan replied, his voice growing increasingly emotional.

"No!"

The assistant's voice rose.

"I just... have this feeling. We must not leave this bus."

His words made the atmosphere even colder.

He didn't know exactly why.

But every instinct in his body rejected the idea of stepping outside.

As if...

Something was out there.

Something invisible.

Rezvan's brow twitched.

His chest rose and fell rapidly.

I don't know what's happening to me... but I feel like I agree with him, he thought.

Yet logic told him he had to act.

"Excuse me, Bang," he finally said, gently pulling his arm free. "I have to go. These kids need help."

Silence returned to the bus.

Only heavy breathing and the faint pounding of hearts lingered in the darkness.

Beyond the windows, the pitch-black fog stretched like an endless sea.

Rezvan strode toward the door.

Adrenaline surged through his body.

He forced himself to think rationally.

The children needed help.

He had to move.

But the moment his hand pulled the door lever—

Nothing happened.

The door didn't budge.

Not even a little.

Rezvan froze.

"That's impossible..."

He tried again.

Harder.

Still nothing.

His heart immediately began pounding wildly.

Every muscle in his body tightened.

The primitive part of the human mind—

The most basic instinct for survival—

Began taking control of his consciousness.

His brain recognized the situation as a threat.

The assistant, standing a few steps behind, watched in silence.

He noticed Rezvan's hand beginning to tremble.

The teacher's breathing had become ragged.

His shoulders were tense.

Without needing an explanation, he understood something.

Rezvan's body itself was afraid to go outside.

His subconscious instincts were warning him of danger.

"Bang... the... the door won't open," Rezvan said, his voice catching.

"The bus has no power, Pak Guru. That's why the door won't open," Pak Marta answered from his seat.

Even in the darkness, he had heard everything clearly.

The assistant stepped closer and gently patted Rezvan's shoulder.

"I don't know what's happening," he said softly, staring into the darkness beyond the window, "but there's something out there... something... we can't predict."

Rezvan swallowed hard.

I don't know why, but I feel like I should trust him... The problem is, the children are in danger. Sitting here won't solve anything.

His neck and shoulders stiffened.

His head throbbed.

Inside him, logic and instinct clashed fiercely.

Meanwhile, the assistant remained remarkably calm.

The bus now felt like a fragile capsule, separating them from something vast, dark, and utterly unknown waiting outside.

Itu pendekatan yang bagus. Cukup beri catatan saat kemunculan pertama istilah tersebut. Setelah itu, istilah yang sama tidak perlu dijelaskan lagi.

Saya menyarankan formatnya dibuat singkat agar tidak mengganggu alur cerita.

Translator's Note:

Om

Om is a common Indonesian form of address used by children or younger people for an adult man who is not a family member. Although it literally means "uncle," in everyday Indonesian it often functions as a polite yet friendly way of addressing an older man. For that reason, Om is retained in this translation.

Kernet / Kenek

Kernet is the standard Indonesian term for a bus driver's assistant, whose duties include assisting the driver, helping passengers, and supporting the bus's daily operations.

Kenek is the local colloquial pronunciation of kernet. In this novel, kernet may appear in narration as the standard Indonesian term, while kenek is retained in dialogue to preserve the characters' natural speech and regional identity.

Om Kenek

Om Kenek combines the Indonesian form of address Om with kenek, the local colloquial term for a bus driver's assistant. It is a natural and respectful way for children or younger people to address a bus assistant whose name they do not know. Because it reflects Indonesian social customs and everyday speech, Om Kenek is intentionally left untranslated.

Throughout this novel, selected Indonesian terms of address and culturally specific expressions are intentionally retained to preserve the characters' identities and the story's Indonesian setting. Their meanings are conveyed through context or these introductory notes rather than being replaced with cultural equivalents.