Dawn broke with dim light seeping through the increasingly dense forest canopy, but the air remained heavy with the smell of damp earth and something even more foul—the smell of dried blood from Fahri's wounds, which had not yet fully healed. The group moved slowly along the small, murky river, hoping to find a source of clean water or signs of civilization. Rizal led the way, his eyes never leaving Rangga, who walked in the middle of the line, while suspicion still gnawed at his mind like roots creeping underground.
"We have to conserve water," Rizal said firmly, stopping at the riverbank. He bent down and tasted the water carefully. "It's safe, but don't waste it. Fahri, you drink first. Your wound needs fluids."
Fahri, assisted by Sari, nodded weakly, holding his arm wrapped in dirty cloth. "Thanks, Riz. But don't worry, I'm still strong enough to walk. Last night I had another nightmare... that black figure, it seems to be getting closer." His voice was hoarse, making the others look at each other anxiously.
Amira approached Rangga, pretending to be casual while filling her bottle. "Rangga, you said you survived on your own, for how many days? It must have been difficult, alone in the forest like this. What scared you the most back then?" She smiled thinly, trying to probe as Rizal had instructed, but Rangga just shrugged.
"Scared? It's normal. I used to practice survival in other forests. The important thing is to stay calm," Rangga replied briefly, his eyes scanning behind the group as if he heard something. "Hey, hear that? Another strange sound."
Everyone froze. From behind the trees across the river, the rustling of leaves sounded loud, followed by the echoing sound of broken branches like heavy footsteps. Sari drew her weapon, breathing heavily. "Is that... yesterday's creature? Or another primitive tribe?"
"Calm down, don't panic," Rizal whispered, signaling everyone to crouch behind the bushes. "Fahri, you and Sari back off first. Amira, watch Rangga. Let's see what it is." He aimed his rifle, his heart pounding.
They peeked slowly. At the edge of the river, strange footprints were visible in the wet mud—not ordinary human feet, but larger ones with deep claws digging into the ground. Fresh blood dripped between the footprints, forming a pattern that resembled an ancient ritual symbol. Fauzan, who had been silent until then, muttered, "This is no ordinary animal. Look at the symbol... it's similar to the one at the old hut yesterday."
Rangga suddenly moved forward slightly, observing the tracks up close. "These are the tracks of a large tiger, but... something is strange. The wounds are not from claws. I think there is something else here." His voice was calm, but Rizal noticed his slightly trembling hands—a sign of new suspicion.
"Rangga, back up! Don't go near it!" Amira shouted, pulling his arm. But it was too late. From behind the thick bushes, a low growl echoed, and a giant creature appeared briefly—a body covered in jet-black fur, eyes glowing red like embers, and a mouth smeared with blood. It roared, a sound that shook the trees and sent leaves flying.
The group retreated hastily, firing warning shots into the air. The creature disappeared in a flash, but more blood trails remained, leading to a small cave on the hillside. "Should we follow?" asked Sari, her voice trembling.
"Not now. Too risky," Rizal replied quickly, breathing heavily. "Let's find a safe place first. Rangga, are you sure it's just a tiger?" He stared intently at the figure, looking for clues.
Rangga shook his head slowly. "Not an ordinary tiger. This is... something protected by the forest. We have to be careful, or we'll be its next prey."
They continued their journey with a new tension, the forest seeming to come alive and breathe with them. In the distance, the faint sound of a bamboo flute could be heard again, mixed with a faint roar that made their hair stand on end. Fahri muttered softly to Sari, "I feel like we're being chased not just by animals... but by something worse."
As the sun rose higher, they found a large tree with a natural hollow to take shelter in. There, Rizal gathered those close to him. "Amira, what did you get from Rangga earlier?"
"He's good at avoiding questions. But he knows a lot about this forest, like he's been here before," whispered Amira.
Fahri added, "I saw him holding something in his pocket—like a strange pendant. It's not our standard equipment."
Rizal nodded. "Keep watching him. We can't just trust him."
Night fell again, and the forest brought new secrets: the blood on the trail turned out to be human, and the sound of the flute was getting closer. Did Rangga know more? Or was he the key to their survival? The group sat around a small fire, their conversation full of veiled suspicion, while the shadows of the canopy danced like threats ready to pounce at any moment.
***
They had just left the hollow tree that served as their temporary shelter when the external conflict erupted without warning. The forest, which had been murmuring with the sound of the wind, was now transformed into a living battlefield. From behind the thick morning fog, harsh shouts in a foreign language echoed—no longer mysterious whispers, but war cries from a group of primitive tribesmen wearing human bone masks, carrying poison-tipped spears and bows ready to fire. They appeared like ghosts from the thick bushes, their wild eyes full of vengeance, as if the blood trail was bait they had deliberately left behind to lure their prey.
"Enemy! The tribe is coming again!" shouted Rizal, immediately raising his SS1 rifle and firing a warning shot into the air. The bullets whizzed by, but the tribe did not flinch—instead, they drew closer in orderly formation, throwing spears that nearly hit Fauzan's shoulder. Tension exploded; the group ran for cover behind large rocks and giant tree roots, breathing heavily amid the sudden downpour that made the ground slippery and blurred their vision.
Fahri, who was still weak, stumbled and fell into the mud. "I... I can't run fast! Leave me if you have to!" he cried in panic, but Sari immediately pulled him to his feet while firing back. "Shut up, Fahri! We're not leaving anyone behind!" replied Sari, her voice breaking with adrenaline. An arrow flew past them, grazing Sari's arm and causing blood to flow profusely, adding to the chaos.
Amidst the chaos, Rangga acted quickly—he threw a smoke grenade from his mysterious equipment, creating a thick white cloud that confused the attackers. "To the river! Run now!" he commanded firmly, his voice standing out among the screams. Rizal glanced at him, a mixture of gratitude and deep suspicion. "Good, Rangga! But don't stray too far from us!" replied Rizal as he covered Amira's retreat, who was almost hit by another spear.
They ran along the banks of the rushing river, muddy brown water splashing into their faces. The tribe chased relentlessly, throwing weapons and chanting terrifying ritual mantras, their voices echoing like ancient curses. Fauzan tripped over a root and fell into the shallow water. "There are too many of them! We can't keep fighting!" he shouted as he got up, his weapon wet and temporarily jammed.
"Grab the backup weapons! We have to find higher ground!" Rizal replied, pulling Fauzan up while firing back. A spear hit a tree in front of them, sending splinters flying. Amira screamed, "Rizal, look! They're wearing skull masks—this isn't a normal attack, it's like a hunting ritual!" Fear mixed with anger made their movements even more frantic; the forest seemed to join in the attack with branches whipping their skin and mud trapping their feet.
Rangga, who was running behind, suddenly stopped and fired a burst of bullets at their pursuers. "I'll cover you! Run to that hill!" he said, but his voice sounded too calm for this deadly situation. Sari, who was carrying Fahri, whispered to Rizal as they climbed the steep slope, "He's too good... it's like he knows their movements. Has he faced this before?"
Finally, they reached a small cave on the hilltop, panting and soaked. The tribe stopped below, roaring angrily but not climbing up—perhaps because of the steep terrain or something more mystical. Rizal counted his breaths, checking Sari's wounds. "We're safe... for now. But they'll be back. Check everyone's weapons. Amira, are you okay?"
Amira nodded, but her eyes were filled with fear. "It's like they knew we were passing through here. The blood trail earlier... it must have been their bait. We have to find a way out before nightfall."
Fahri winced in pain, "And Rangga... he saved us earlier. But Riz, his eyes when he shot... they were so cold."
Rizal nodded, keeping his suspicions to himself. This external conflict not only tested their physical strength, but also widened the cracks in their internal trust. The rain subsided, but a faint roar from beneath the cave served as a reminder: the hunt had only just begun. In the distance, the sound of bamboo flutes mixed with screams, promising an even more terrifying night.
***
After the primitive tribe's attack subsided, the group had just breathed a sigh of relief in the cave when a concrete natural threat struck mercilessly: a mudslide caused by the previous heavy rain. The slippery hillside suddenly rumbled, wet soil mixed with rocks and giant tree roots sliding rapidly from above, blocking their path to the river. Dust and mud flew everywhere, obscuring their vision and making it difficult to breathe. The cave, which had been safe, was now a trap—the entrance was half buried, leaving only a narrow gap to breathe through.
"Landslide! Everyone back into the cave!" shouted Rizal, pushing Amira and Sari out of the way of a large rolling rock. Fauzan was almost buried, but Rangga pulled him out just in time. "Hold onto the wall! Don't move around!" Rangga ordered, his voice calm but firm amid the rumbling that shook the cave like an earthquake.
Fahri curled up in the corner, his arm bleeding again from the tremors. "Is this... is this the end? Are we buried alive?!" his voice broke, but Sari hugged him tightly. "Calm down, Fahri. Let's find a way out. Look, there's a tunnel behind us!" She pointed to a faintly visible dark gap at the end of the cave, the damp and rotten smell stinging their noses.
After the landslide stopped, they crawled through the narrow tunnel, mud sticking to their clothes and weapons, hindering their movement. The air grew stuffy, and the sound of dripping water echoed like the ticking of a death clock. "This is a small flash flood from the forest above," Rizal muttered as he wiped the mud from his eyes. "We can't go back this way. We have to find another way, but this landslide has blocked all the safe routes."
Several hours later, after passing through the exhausting tunnel, they emerged at the edge of a more open forest—right on the edge of a small hidden village, with rickety bamboo houses and thin smoke billowing from the nipah leaf roofs. Hope arose: perhaps the villagers could help. Rizal cautiously led the way, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. A thin, elderly man with a wrinkled face emerged from a nearby hut, holding a machete but not brandishing it.
"We're from the crashed plane. Please help us, we need medicine and food. Someone is seriously injured," Rizal said politely, pointing to Fahri, who was being carried by Sari.
The old man—Pak Karto, as written on his worn name tag—stared at them for a long time, his eyes clearly filled with trauma. He shook his head slowly. "You are outsiders. Just go. This forest is cursed. We don't want to get involved anymore."
Amira stepped forward, her voice soft. "Sir, please... we have no one else. Fahri could die if he's not treated. We can pay or help with any work."
Pak Karto laughed bitterly, his gaze vacant as if recalling a nightmare. "Pay? People like you used to come asking for help. Young soldiers, just like you. They said they were looking for training, but the forest took their lives. The wild tribe killed half of them, the black creatures took the rest. My son... disappeared while trying to help them. That trauma never goes away, Neng. We closed this village for years. No help, no food for strangers."
Fauzan was angry and took a step forward. "Sir, we're not lying! Look at our wounds—these are from the tribe that attacked us earlier. If you don't help us, we'll die here!"
Other villagers began to gather, and an old woman whispered to Pak Karto, "Don't, sir. They bring bad luck. It was like that before, too. Planes crashed, people disappeared, the forest was angry." The atmosphere was tense; machetes were slowly raised, not as a direct threat but as a clear warning. Rangga whispered to Rizal, "They're really scared. Past trauma has made them close themselves off. Let's back off slowly."
Rizal nodded, but he didn't want to give up. "Pak Karto, we understand your trauma. But your children surely wouldn't want you to let people die in vain. At least tell us the way out of this forest. We promise we won't bother you again."
Pak Karto hesitated, his eyes wet. "The way out? Through the devil's cave in the east, but a landslide has blocked it now. The wild tribe is guarding it. You're the only ones who survived. Leave before we force you out." He turned away, the villagers slowly dispersed, leaving the group with broken hearts and empty stomachs.
Back in the forest, Sari tended to Fahri's wounds with whatever herbal leaves she could find. "They're severely traumatized, Riz. Like ghost stories from the past. We're alone again now."
Fahri muttered weakly, "The landslide earlier... plus this. Are we cursed?"
Rangga interrupted, "It's not a curse. In a tropical forest like this—heavy rain causes landslides, rivers flood, fog covers the roads. We have to find a higher route, avoid the valleys. I know an old path, but it's risky."
Rizal looked at him suspiciously, but the external tension forced cooperation. "Alright. We'll follow. But watch the weather—if it rains again, a second landslide could kill us all." Night fell with strong winds and faint roars from the distance, reminding them that nature and human trauma had become new enemies just as deadly.
***
After a fierce confrontation with Pak Karto and villagers who refused aid due to past trauma, the group was forced to retreat into the forest, which grew darker as night fell. Heavy rain poured down relentlessly—a concrete and deadly threat of Indonesia's tropical climate: flash floods from previous landslides swelled the small river into a muddy brown torrent, carrying tree trunks, large rocks, and thick mud that ensnared their feet. A second landslide rumbled down from the upper slopes, wet earth collapsing like a mudfall, destroying the trail and forcing them to detour into a slippery, rocky valley. Thick fog enveloped everything, obscuring their vision to just a few meters, while bloodthirsty insects like sand flies and malaria mosquitoes swarmed their scratched and wounded skin, adding to their physical torment.
Rizal led with difficulty, pulling on ropes from trees to keep the group together in the knee-deep water. "Hold tight! Don't let go! This river is flooded—one wrong step and we'll be swept away!" he shouted, his voice almost drowned out by the roar of the water and the strong wind tearing at the leaves.
Fahri, whose condition had worsened due to an infected wound, was swept away by the current and fell into the mud. Sari struggled to pull him out, her clothes soaked through. "Fahri! Wake up! Riz, help! He can't hold on!" Sari screamed in panic, floodwater splashing into her face.
Rangga rushed forward, tied a rope around Fahri's waist, and pulled him to the relatively safe edge behind a large rock. "He has a high fever. It's a severe infection from yesterday's bite. We have to find a dry place first!" he said firmly, but Fauzan immediately interrupted him with a suspicious tone.
"How do you know so much about jungle infections? Are you a doctor now? Or is this part of your plan, Rangga? Ever since you showed up, problems have multiplied—foreign tribes attacking, landslides, now floods!" Fauzan snapped, his eyes blazing with anger in the pouring rain. Internal conflict erupted; Rizal's suspicion of Rangga now spread to the entire group, weakening their unity at the most critical moment.
Rizal stopped in his tracks, scolding Fauzan while holding Fahri's shoulder. "Enough, Fau! We're being chased by floods and landslides—this is no time to argue! Amira, help Sari carry Fahri. Rangga, you lead the way if you know a dry route!"
Amira, who had been quietly observing, muttered softly to Sari as she tied Fahri's bandages tighter. "Fauzan is right... Rangga is too calm. But if we argue now, this flood will kill us all. Look at the second landslide—the village road is completely blocked."
They moved again, but the thick fog made navigation difficult. Insects attacked relentlessly; Sari rubbed Fahri's swollen arm, covered in bites. "These are malaria mosquitoes! Fahri is starting to hallucinate—he says he hears a child's voice again!" Sari complained, her voice trembling. Fahri muttered weakly, "Don't... the tribe... they're coming... Rangga... why do you smell like blood..."
The conflict peaked when they were trapped in a narrow valley. Fauzan blocked Rangga, pushing his shoulder roughly. "Just admit it, Rangga! You're part of that tribe, aren't you? Why did you save us earlier if not to deceive us? The pendant in your pocket—it's a symbol of a primitive tribe! Rizal, he's the enemy!"
Rangga coldly pushed Fauzan's hand away, his eyes sharp. "You're crazy from hunger and fear, Fauzan. This pendant? It's a memento from my grandfather—the guardian of the forest. I saved you guys multiple times. If I were the enemy, you'd be dead by now!"
Rizal pushed them apart, but his voice was tense. "Be quiet, all of you! Listen—the tribe is roaring again, mixed with the flood! We have to climb this hill, avoid the valley. Sari, carry Fahri. Amira, cover the rear of the group. Rangga, if you're lying about the route, we'll all die!"
Amira took a deep breath and whispered to Rizal. "Riz, this conflict is weakening us. Fauzan almost hit Rangga earlier. But the flood is getting heavier—the water is rising fast, and a landslide is closing in behind us. We'll be trapped if we don't hurry."
They climbed the steep, slippery hill, using tree roots as handholds, but they often broke. The rain didn't let up, lightning struck the trees, causing small fires that burned briefly before being extinguished by the water. Fahri was unconscious on Sari's back, breathing heavily. "He won't last long... infection plus hypothermia," Sari muttered.
At the top of a small hill, they collapsed onto the relatively dry mossy ground, gasping for breath. Fauzan still glared at Rangga. "This isn't over. If Fahri dies, you're responsible."
Rangga shook his head, opened his backpack, and took out a mysterious herbal concoction. "Give this to Fahri. It's made from wild ginger root and forest turmeric—anti-infective. If you don't believe me, let him die."
Rizal snatched the potion, his gaze mixed with doubt. "We'll use it... but we'll keep watching you. This flood is the worst natural obstacle—the river has become a giant river now. Tomorrow, find a higher route, avoid the valley."
Night fell with a stormy wind and the faint roar of the tribe from below the flooded valley. Internal conflicts fractured the group, while the tropical environment—heavy rain, flash floods, landslides, fog, and insects—became relentless, invisible enemies. Fahri raved in his fever, "The forest... is eating us... one by one..."
***
At the top of a small hill wet from the rain left over from the flash flood, the group huddled under the canopy of a leaky tree, a small campfire nearly extinguished by the strong wind. The cold night air pierced their bones, mixed with the smell of mud and infection from Fahri's increasingly swollen wound. The internal conflict that had been simmering finally erupted, splitting the group into small factions amid the looming threat of nature—the floodwaters roared below the valley, small landslides occasionally rumbled from the upper slopes, and thick fog covered any route that might be considered safe. Suspicion of Rangga was the main trigger, but the motives were varied: fear of starvation, envy of his calmness, and paranoia born of days without hope.
Fauzan suddenly stood up, his face red with anger and hunger gnawing at him. He pointed at Rangga, who sat calmly in the corner, sharpening his knife with rhythmic movements as if the world were not falling apart. "Enough! Do you think we're blind, Rangga? You appeared out of nowhere, saved us when the foreign tribe attacked, gave Fahri a magic potion—it's all too convenient! What are your motives? Do you want to take over the group? Or are you a spy for the primitive tribe, waiting for us to weaken before attacking from within?!" His voice boomed, drawing everyone's attention.
Rangga didn't budge, his eyes remained cold as he stared at the campfire, slowly sharpening his knife. "You're hungry and afraid, Fauzan. That's making your brain overheat. I've saved you guys many times. Want to accuse me? Go ahead. But don't blame me if you die tomorrow because of your own quarrels."
Sari, who was treating Fahri with Rangga's potion, was also provoked. Her motive was clear: the safety of Fahri, the only person close to her left. "Fauzan is right! Fahri was almost dead, but after drinking your potion, his fever went down a little. But the pendant in your pocket—I saw the symbol, it's similar to the carving in the old hut! You know this forest better than any of us. What are you trying to cover up by helping us? The trauma of the village earlier... you seem to know the story of Pak Karto's missing child!"
Amira tried to calm them down, but her voice was shaky—her motive was to maintain unity, but Rizal's suspicion had already crept into her mind. "Sari, wait. Rangga helped us get through the flood earlier. But... yeah, he's too calm. Riz, say something! We can't be like this—another landslide, the tribe coming, us fighting amongst ourselves!"
Rizal stood up, his face tense, gripping his weapon tightly. His motive as a leader: protect the group from potential traitors, but don't let them split before facing external problems. "Everyone sit down! Fauzan, Sari—you're afraid Fahri is dead, I understand. But accusations without evidence make us weak. Rangga, answer directly: what is that pendant? And why do you know the forest route better than us?"
Rangga stopped sharpening his knife, his gaze as cold as ice, no excess emotion. He took the strange bone pendant from his pocket, turning it slowly between his fingers. "This is my grandfather's heirloom, a forest guardian in a remote village near here. Its symbol? A sign of protection from the forest spirits—not a wild tribe. I know the route because when I was a child, I was taught survival skills here, not formal military training like you guys. My motive? Survival, just like you guys. If I were a traitor, why would I share the potion? I'd just let Fahri die, right?"
Fauzan was not satisfied, stepping closer until their chests were almost touching. "Liar! You're so cold—foreign tribes attacking, floods, landslides, and you just say 'calm down'. It's like you're playing a game! Your motive must be to take our weapons and lead us ourselves when we die one by one. Rizal, tie him up now! I don't believe you anymore!"
Sari stood up to support Fauzan, her eyes wet with anger. "Yes, Riz! Fahri said in his hallucination he saw Rangga smelling blood. His motive is clear—he's part of this forest's curse!"
The group was divided: Fauzan and Sari vs. Rangga, Amira in the middle, unsure, Fahri delirious and unconscious. Rizal raised his hand, his voice booming. "Enough! Tie Rangga up if you want, but tomorrow morning. Now rest—hear that? The flood is rising again, the landslide is rumbling. If we keep arguing, the primitive tribe will come and we'll be torn apart first!"
Rangga smiled thinly, cold as usual, returning to sharpen his knife. "Go ahead and tie me up. But remember, without me, the Valley of Skulls will kill you all tomorrow."
The night passed tensely, Fauzan and Sari's whispers echoing in the makeshift tent of leaves. Amira whispered to Rizal, "Fauzan's motive is hunger and panic, Sari is afraid of losing Fahri. But Rangga... his coldness sends shivers down my spine. Which one do we choose?"
Rizal shook his head, hearing the faint roar of the tribe from the flooded valley. "Decide tomorrow. Nature will kill us first if we're not united." This internal conflict fractured their bond, their motives clashing like intertwined tree roots: selfish survival versus brotherhood, fear versus logic. Rangga remained calm, but his eyes hinted at a deeper secret.
***
Night on the hilltop felt like a cold hell, with strong winds battering the makeshift tents made of torn nipah leaves, while flash floods in the valley below roared like the growls of giant beasts. The campfire was almost extinguished, leaving only red embers dancing and illuminating the tired and tense faces of the 15 members of the group who had survived the plane crash—now divided by a raging internal conflict. A hidden alliance began to form: the Rizal faction (the stern leader, supported by Amira, the subtle observer, and Dito, the loyal but pessimistic radio technician); the Fauzan faction (the hot-headed rebel, supported by Sari, Fahri's protector, Bima, the impulsive fighter, and Lina, the frustrated amateur medic who had run out of medicine); Rangga's Supporters faction (Tono, the quiet navigator; Maya, the practical hunter; and Hasan, the silent but suspicious senior); as well as neutrals such as Andi, the shy young man, and Reza, the hesitant analyst. Motives collide: collective survival vs. selfishness, fear of death vs. ambition to lead, and paranoia towards Rangga, who remains as cold as a stone statue.
The conflict erupted when Fauzan rose again, his voice booming over the roar of the wind. "Look at this, Rizal! Fifteen people survived that hellish plane, but now we're fighting because of this mysterious guy! Rangga, what are your motives? You helped us through the flood, gave Fahri medicine—but what's that wild tribe bone pendant in your pocket? You're a spy, aren't you? You want us to be weak so you can take the weapons and run away yourself!"
Sari immediately stood up in support, her eyes wet but angry, hugging Fahri who was delirious with fever. "That's right, Fau! Fahri was almost dead, but your potion stabilized him—it was too perfect! Bima, Lina—you saw it too, right? He knows this forest like his own home. His motive is clear: kill us one by one later!"
Bima, a muscular fighter with a leg injury from the landslide, raised his machete. "Yes! I agree with Fauzan. Let's tie him up now! Lina, you're a medic—is that potion safe? Or is it poison?"
Lina, a thin girl with trembling hands, checked Fahri's bandages and nodded uncertainly. "It's safe... for now. But Rangga's motive? He's so cold, like he's not afraid of death. There are 15 of us, but if he's a traitor, we'll all die!"
Rangga remained seated calmly in the corner, sharpening his knife rhythmically, his gaze coldly fixed on the fire as if he couldn't hear the storm of emotions. "Keep accusing me. I'll wait for proof. My motive? Life. Just like yours."
Rizal stood up, his voice booming, cutting through the chaos, supported by Amira and Dito who nodded firmly. "Enough! We are not animals—we are young soldiers! Fauzan's faction, you are afraid of death and hunger, your motive is to protect Fahri and take over if I fail to lead. But if we fight now, the primitive tribes will come and destroy us! Amira, Dito—we support a thorough investigation, not violence."
Amira interrupted softly, her eyes sweeping across everyone. "Fauzan, Sari—I understand you're panicking about Fahri. But Tono and Maya support Rangga because he saved them from the landslide. Hasan said the pendant is a protector, not a curse. Andi and Reza are neutral—they're afraid of splitting the group. There are 15 of us: don't divide into factions!"
Tono, the quiet navigator with a worn map in his hand, spoke softly in support of Rangga. "He pointed out the dry route earlier. Without him, the flood would have swallowed us. Fauzan's motive? He's jealous, even though we were all trembling."
Maya, a tough hunter with an emergency bow, added sharply. "That's right. Hasan agrees—he's a senior, he knows survival. If Rangga is the enemy, why did he share the potion? Fauzan's faction just wants to lead alone!"
Hasan, a bearded senior with war wounds, nodded silently from the shadows. "Rangga's coldness... that's strength, not an evil motive."
Andi, a shy young man who was nervously biting his fingers, muttered neutrally. "I'm just scared. If there's a fight, we'll all die. Reza, what do you think?"
Reza, a skinny analyst with broken glasses, sighed. "Neutral. Everyone's motive is survival. But we need proof first, don't just make accusations."
Fauzan laughed cynically, supported by Bima who stepped forward threateningly. "Look! Rangga's faction has formed—five people to support him! Rizal, you're weak! Sari, Lina—tie him up tonight! Fahri said in his dream that he smelled blood!"
Sari cried angrily. "Yes! My motive is to protect Fahri—my only family here! If Rangga kills him, I'll kill him back!"
Rizal pushed Fauzan back, his weapon ready. "Sit down! Fauzan's faction has four people: panicked and hungry. My faction protects everyone. Rangga stays free tonight—keep a close watch. Hear the flood rising again? Second landslide tomorrow—if it breaks now, we'll be 15 corpses!"
Rangga smiled thinly, coldly, and returned to sharpening his knife. "Just choose. I'll wait."
The night passed with whispered faction plans: Fauzan-Sari-Bima-Lina planned to tie Rangga up; Rizal-Amira-Dito devised an investigation strategy; Tono-Maya-Hasan kept Rangga quiet; Andi-Reza attempted mediation. The internal conflict was clear: fear vs. calm, ego vs. unity, with survival motives accusing each other of betrayal. The forest rumbled, the tribe roared faintly—15 souls hung on the fragile thread of trust.