Janu stood frozen, his torch held out like a flimsy shield, gripped in trembling hands like a twig in a storm. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. His heart thundered against his ribs, loud enough to break through bone. Sweat streamed down his face, chilled instantly by the damp air. His legs—locked and trembling—felt like stone about to crack. He was cornered. The panthers had him.
The panthers paced silently through the undergrowth, their molten-gold eyes glowing—cutting clean through the veil of darkness. For a moment, Janu felt like his luck had finally run dry. He questioned every decision of life that led him to this moment, into a world where he didn't belong and rejected him. A world where he wasn't a humble visitor, but as a prey.
And then, amidst the chaos in his head, like a spark catching dry tinder, a memory flared to life. A distant memory flickered in his mind.
It had been on one of his longer hiking trips, deep in the mountain range of Central Java. He remembered the ranger clearly—a grizzled old man with a voice like dry leaves crunching underfoot. The man had stopped the group, motioning them to silence as they passed claw marks on a tree.
"Big cats roam these forests," the ranger had said, resting a hand on the gnarled bark.
"Panthers. Maybe a stray, they usually don't venture near the hiking trails. If you ever come across one, don't run. Don't show your back. Stand tall. Make noise. Show them you're not prey. They'll size you up first. You gotta make them think twice."
Janu had laughed it off back then. Now, with a panther growling meters away in front of him, the advice didn't seem so funny now, it's the only thing standing between him and death.
He talked to Jantaka, voice hoarse with realization. "Thank you, Jantaka... because of you, I remembered something that might help us get out of this mess."
Still keeping the torch raised and steady, Janu stared down the shifting eyes of the panthers in the dark. They glowed, watching him with unnerving patience. One wrong move, and they would strike. He could feel it.
Jantaka's voice surfaced in his mind, wary but curious. "Now you're thinking, you panicky master. I knew you had it in you. What do you need me to do this time?"
Janu didn't answer right away. His voice came out louder than before—not a whisper, but firm.
"I need you to keep scanning the area. And... I need your presence."
There was a pause. "My what now?"
"I mean that pressure thing—like what those pocong did. When they made the air feel like it was crushing my chest back when I first got stuck here, remember?. Don't spirits have that effect, right? I mean animals can sense things humans can't. "I've seen dogs bark at empty rooms. I thought it was nonsense. Not anymore. Maybe the cats can feel it too. Especially this big cat."
Jantaka let out a hum of amusement mixed with a dry chuckle.
"You want me to scare off forest predators by being a spooky ghost?"
"Goddammit! Yes you're spooky! And you're a fucking ghost!" Janu responded with frustration and a lash of emotion. Janu didn't expect Jantaka to still have the "guts" to make a light joke in all of this madness.
"Okay.. okay, fine. Alright, I'll give it a shot. But my strength is still recovering. It won't be as strong as I was with your ancestor."
"Anything will do at this point! Just try it!"
"Well.. you asked for it"
Janu took a deep breath and slowly began to move his body. He shrugged off his torn jacket, gripped it in one hand, and stretched his arms wide—torch in one hand, jacket in the other—making himself appear larger, unnatural, unafraid.
"ARGH!" he shouted, his voice raw and cracking from strain but it rang loud, echoing through the trees. Like a war cry dredged from some ancestral memory, it stirred something primal in his blood—something ancient, defiant, human.
Jantaka went quiet. Then, Janu felt it—like the temperature had dropped tremendously. The air thickened—so dense it's so suffocating. And then a dull ringing filled his ears. The pressure coiled down around Janu's head like an iron veil tightening. Jantaka's spiritual presence poured out into the clearing, invisible but oppressive, crushing, like the surrounding itself holding its breath.
Janu's knees trembled under the weight. "Hey... maybe dial it down a notch...!"
"Hah! What's the problem!? You're the one who asked for it," Jantaka replied with dry humor. "I haven't flexed this much power in decades."
"Brace yourself. I haven't done this in decades."
But it worked.
The panthers—initially tense and ready to spring—slowed. One tilted its head, then took a wary step back. Another growled lowly, confused. Their golden eyes no longer burned with hunger but flickered with caution. The oppressive aura pressed down on them too, stirring an ancient instinct to flee.
Then, like a sudden breeze through brittle leaves, the first panther turned and slipped into the shadows. Another followed. Then another.
Janu stayed standing, arms wide, torch blazing, until the last pair of glowing eyes vanished into the treeline.
He waited. He counted to ten. He didn't breathe.
Only then did he collapse against a tree, gasping.
"It worked," he whispered. "Holy shit… It actually worked!"
Janu collapsed against the tree, his chest heaving, lungs sucking in greedy gulps of damp air. The jungle had gone quiet again—unnaturally so. No birds chirping. No insects crackling in the distance. Just the dying echoes of his torch crackling and the phantom weight of Jantaka's aura still clinging to the clearing like mist.
"Hah," Jantaka muttered in his mind, voice smug but tinged with pride. "You survived again. Good job."
Janu let out a groan, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his trembling hand. "Yeah. But next time? Maybe ease off on the ghost pressure. Felt like my skull was about to pop."
"Hahahaha! What's wrong? Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Just—eugh…" Janu clutched his stomach, nearly doubling over. The pressure had nearly made him throw up. He swallowed hard, wiped the corner of his mouth, and straightened again with effort. "Just... keep it moderate, please."
"Fine, fine," Jantaka chuckled. Gradually, the air lightened, the invisible pressure lifting like a weight peeled off his shoulders.
Janu let out a slow exhale, grounding himself. "Okay. The cats are gone. Crisis averted. Now... help me scan the area again. Something tells me they'll come back—or they're still around."
"On it. But don't forget—we're still trapped in this damned cursed loop."
"Yeah," Janu muttered, gripping his torch tighter. "That's what makes me uneasy. If we're stuck here... maybe they are too."
"Exactly," Jantaka said, his voice sharpening. "And that faint mystical energy I sensed earlier? It's stronger now. We've stumbled straight into the enemy's domain."
Janu tensed, eyes scanning the dark beyond the firelight. "So what now? We go to search for the source?"
"Correct. If we locate the source of the spell—disrupt it—we might break free."
Janu looked around the shadowed trees. "And the panthers?"
"Ah yes, them. Now that you mention it, I find their behaviour interesting, actually," Jantaka mused. "When they fled, they weren't just scared. Something kept them from running far. Like... they're tethered. Like something's pulling them back."
"Tethered? Pulling back? What do you mean?"
"They're like, caught in the loop too. Same as us. But they're more desperate. More unpredictable. Or maybe because of fear and hunger. Or maybe both"
Janu's thoughts churned. "So they're like us—cornered, scared. And when any living beings get cornered, they will do anything."
"Exactly. They'll lash out if it comes to that. So stay alert. Keep that fire close. If they think you're a threat again, they'll come."
Janu nodded grimly. "Alright. But if we're in the same trap, then we've got the same goal—get out."
"Smart thinking, kid. Speaking of which—you still have the badik?"
Janu reached into his belt and drew the ancient looking dagger. The hilt felt strangely warm in his grip. "Yeah. Why?"
"That blade—it's not just for show. It's resonating with the energy of this place. Think of it like a divining rod. A focus. It'll help me sense the source faster."
"Like an antenna?," Janu muttered.
"Glad you caught on quick. But more than that—it's a connection or a bridge to better understand the mystical world, especially this. That blade has been passed by the same hands that once roamed this land under a different sky. It remembers."
Janu blinked, momentarily startled by the weight of that thought. "Right... Okay." He adjusted his grip and stepped forward into the trees, torch in one hand, badik in the other.
"Hold it steady. Focus. We're not just surviving anymore."
The darkness welcomed them back—but now, he wasn't just prey.
He was hunting.
The jungle groaned around them, ancient and heavy, as Janu and Jantaka moved forward into the unknown, one step at a time.