"Would you break free from an ill-fated relationship if the chance presented itself?" Dias had asked out of the blue.
Tira munched her biscuits first—they were just freshly baked that morning, courtesy of the ever gracious Ginan, and waited until she had savored every single bite before asking, "What brought this on?"
"Curiosity." He said over their tea, which, along with her biscuits, had been snuck into the room just for them; as a way to enjoy breakfast without too much of the accompanying eye. "Your answer?"
She gave it a moment of thought as she washed down the dryness in her throat with hot tea that simply warmed only her stomach on its way down and never long enough for it to matter.
"I would." She said, after coming to a conclusion, after that short burst of warmth had faded away. "Although I don't know what the criteria would be for it to be called as such. Something that's been described as ill-fated would no doubt be ominous. If it made me unhappy, then, of course, I'd break away from that relationship without a doubt."
"But what if you were happy?"
Dias' next question had followed immediately after, as if he had been waiting and knew of her answer before she needed to let her voice travel between them. "What if you were happy? Would you maintain that illusion and stay?"
"Even though it hurts?"
"Even though it hurts."
She felt her mouth open and close for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She also knew without a doubt what kind of response she would or should be expected to give if the moral convention of the twenty-first century depended on it.
But what would the answer he was looking for be? The fact that he was asking her this was also something she should take into account.
Dias didn't push her into answering. Although, in the end, she ended up answering just like how she usually would. With honesty.
"I think—"
The sound of horns blaring at the front gate pulled Tira's attention back to the moment. The rest of the conversation from that morning faded away from her mind as the car parked right by the school's main entrance.
"Sorry, did you all wait long?" Gunawan apologized as he rolled down the window to address them. Somehow, seeing him sitting in the driver’s seat made him look older for some reason. A reflection that he was indeed a college student, once upon a time.
"No, you arrived just in time." Donny reassured the man as he opened the passenger's door and flattened the foldable seat, gesturing to the others as he pulled it back, "After you."
She waited for Rizal, Dharma, and finally, Lydia to get into the minivan’s backseat before she followed and sat in the middle with Donny, who put on his seatbelt as soon as his butt touched the seats. "How much gasoline did you have?"
"We have enough." Gunawan replied as he released the handbrake just in time for the front door to slam shut, then shifted the gear to drive out of the small, school-appropriate, drop-off lane. "Between the amount already in this car and the one we siphoned off of those thousands of other cars, I can take us from one end of the barrier to the other about twenty times."
"Sick!"
In the aftermath of road clearing and the parking lot demolition of the supermarket, they were presented with a situation more ridiculous than one would imagine. It was so absurd that, when Tira first heard of it, she couldn't believe it was a legitimate problem until Devy informed the rest of the group about the implications behind it.
They had too many vehicles.
There were too many abandoned cars and bikes that had been left behind during the D-day, and because of the massacre, not all of their owners could come and reclaim them from the university parking lot where they had been temporarily stored away.
There were also other factors to consider for keeping the cars, including their conditions, as not all of them had sported the same quality when being sorted—thus the need to dismantle the ones deemed too old or too broken to fix for recycling the materials.
Specifically for Felicia and Rizal, who had been delighted when they found out that they could transmute said resources into anything they wanted for their practice purposes.
As for the functional, ownerless vehicles; they were now being put to good use by direct members to travel and transport supplies all around their tiny domain under Dias' orders.
Using a car instead of walking or running to the farthest university was truly a game changer. Even though those who were blessed had gained power multiple times than the normal amount, the time and energy spent was still disproportionate to the effectiveness and speed of cars and bikes.
Not to mention, the fact that it allowed them to take more passengers or items in a single trip. All of the excess cars get loaned immediately and are on the road as soon as they're cleared to go.
Perhaps there would come a day when a single person could run faster than a motorcycle and carry more luggage than a car—as more people were being blessed and bloomed into their powers—but Dias said that those days were still reserved for the future.
As of now, most of the emptied-out cars had been cherry-picked by the members for their own use. For civilians' use; so long as they possessed the necessary driving permit, they were allowed to bring one home.
Those in the corps went specifically for the sturdy, with low consumption of fuel, and also–
"Able to accelerate from flat 0 to 50 kmph in a second or less, just in case we need to make a getaway." Gunawan wrapped up his explanation of the current car they were driving.
Tira understood absolutely nothing about cars. She was tempted to let the information slip through her ears, but she persisted, noting it all down in her head and tossing it all into the 'in case of an emergency' pile. Donny and Rizal seemed to have absolutely no problem understanding what Gunawan was preaching about, and thus, they held a conversation in a language that felt nearly alien to her for the rest of the ride.
The other three in the back were not paying close attention and were talking amongst themselves about the current case.
"This lineup feels like overkill." Dharma remarked dryly from the back.
"It's best if we have the best hands on deck for this," Gunawan answered from the front, making a smooth turn that would have normally had her guts all the way up her neck. "Though I'm sorry that we can't explain on the way. The situation is rather… peculiar."
"Peculiar?"
"Yes. It was not an everyday thing. Prof. Lucas wouldn't have made a fuss if it was." Gunawan quipped, making another sharp turn, without as much as a jolt to the passengers behind, at the speed meant for an illegal ticket. "You'll see what I mean in a minute. We're here."
As soon as Gunawan had said that, the group found themselves arriving at the sports and engineering university. The best one yet in the capital, or so the scuffed slogan that Tira could remember had said. This university's plot of land was also the only place with enough space that they could do traditional burials for those with families and those that died in the coming days, to honor their last request.
The sight of rows and rows of tombstones was nothing that brought cheer and joy, but Tira always felt a sense of ease upon hearing the news of their planting.
It felt nice to be able to put names on the faces carved into those jars, even if they had to wait for a little while to be returned to earth. Though this was her first time seeing the newly built cemetery, in a way, she felt welcomed when greeted with the supposedly morbid scenery, as it reflected the respect that the living had for the dead.
Getting off in reverse of the order they climbed into the car, she immediately felt the gazes of interest land on them as soon as the car had entered the gate. Being reminded of the situation there, it seemed that most had not given up their hope of seeing their angel until the very last moment when Gunawan turned off the car and hopped off, dispersing most of the eyes away as Ayunda, at last, hopped off from the front seats and closed the door.
"That was unpleasant." The girl muttered to herself, not expecting Lydia, of all people, to pick it up, and hiss in response.
"I know, right? What kind of nut jobs are those assholes, gawking at us like that?!"
Gunawan bowed his head a bit upon hearing the criticism, as if shame had physically manifested and weighed down his neck. "Ugh, sorry."
"Not your fault, senior, but this is indeed a bit worse than what the rumors made it out to be."
Donny patted the older man on the back and said, "Let’s find Henry and see what the problem is, and if we can take a crack at it before dinner."
Gunawan led them through a series of confusing and rounding corridors and hallways, traversing through many rooms and small miniature crosswalks just to get to the elevator alone.
Remembering the map of this place was going to be a nightmare.
She waited until they got the door closed before sighing from relief at entering a simple, closed space.
"Tira, are you okay?"
"Feeling a bit claustrophobic trying to remember the layout, nothing worrying."
An unexpected response came from the two university students in the form of a smile and a giggle.
"You get used to it. It’s almost the same at our university since they’re both old buildings." Lydia supplemented between her giggles.
"I see."
Tira did not see at all. She had no idea why or what old buildings had to do with having a labyrinth-like structure, but didn't question it further as they had reached their designated floor.
Another unexpected sight when the door opened had come in the form of Purnama, who also looked equally startled as them when he saw them, then playing it off by giving them way first.
They exchanged nothing more than a polite nod on the way out, though she wished they hadn't. His eyes gleamed dangerously once they met. She suppressed her shivers and moved on, not letting her guard down until the pressure on her back finally dissipated with distance.
What remained, however, was unease and a mix of other feelings she could not name.
"-I said you’re being UNREASONABLE!"
She paid attention to the feeling as they entered the faculty office, where two professors were having an intense verbal fight upon their arrival, and kept going despite the newcomers' presence.
One was a greying-haired, center-balding patterned, glasses-wearing old man. The other was... old as well, although his hair was still mostly intact despite the widow's peak showing through.
It was only a second later that she noticed Henry, stuck in between the two men, seemingly trying to mediate the best he could and failing miserably with every attempt.
When his eyes noticed their arrival, he shot a pleading look at Gunawan, but instead of his trusted friend, Ayunda was the one who stepped forward to stop the argument with a single word.
"Grandpa?"
As if someone had hit the pause button, the younger of the two professors whipped his eyes to her and immediately choked on air as he uttered her name.
"Ayunda…?"
That was enough for him to abandon his anger, casting away the mask of Ashura that he had greeted them with. He dived into hug the highschool girl tight in his arms. Sobbing openly, in relief and despair, until she hugged him back.
"I…I thought I lost you…!"
"I’m sorry." Ayunda hiccuped, her voice quivering with each breath she took, devolving into the sobbing mess that the older man had become. "I'm sorry!"
Studying Rizal, whose jaw had dropped in shock was enough for her to tell he knew nothing about what was happening.
Originally, he and Ayunda had tagged along for survey reasons, as they were now members of the newly formed supply team. They were dedicated to keeping track of resources and other materials mostly for Felicia's use. So it came off as a surprise even to her that there would still be scenes of reunions so late in the week after they had established a clear road to each landmark so long ago.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"Ayunda, my lovely girl, where have you been?" The professor caressed the girl's cheeks tenderly, his eyes wet and still glimmering in disbelief over the situation.
Lydia tossed over a vibe check to the stunned Henry so that he came over and left the two alone, although the young man didn't seem to be getting the hint. Lydia instead had resorted to hinting at Gunawan instead to pull his friend out of his reprieve in the middle of the sweet potato atmosphere.
Ayunda leaned into the touch, her face scrunching up with guilt and regret, "I’m sorry, grandpa, I was… I wasn’t in the right frame of mind until today. I thought I had lost you…" She glanced up, with her eyes welling up with tears, and shakily asked. "Mom, Dad, did they...?"
Another pause, hesitant, before he gritted his teeth and shook his head with a pained grimace.
"Let’s give them some time." Lydia whispered, leading everyone out as discreetly as possible and closing the door behind them to allow some much-needed bonding time for the newly reunited family members.
Once out in the corridor, someone let out a long, deep sigh. Tira was not paying attention to who, specifically, as she was also rather stunned by the display and hadn't come back to her body yet until that moment.
"I suppose you are Professor Lucas, sir?"
Professor Lucas nodded as he cleaned his glasses with his shirt, a hint of foggy lenses erased so easily with a deftly performed swipe.
"Indeed, that would be me. Are you the students' representatives from the high school?"
"We are." Donny confirmed and gestured to Lydia, "This is the representative from B University. We’re all here as per your request."
"Thank you for coming, first of all. Let’s..." The old professor glanced around and gestured down the hall with his chin, "Follow me, we’ll move to a quieter place."
Following him past two rooms, they entered an empty, abandoned classroom. While devoid of people’s presence, the class still looked well maintained and furnished with teaching materials and other amenities. Professor Lucas closed the door after their entry and another door up front before he took a seat on the chair by the podium.
"I would assume you’ve heard the gist of the situation before coming?"
"Yes." Donny stood by the whiteboard, his back leaning against the white expanse. "You said you've been getting reports of some trouble brewing? Something you can't handle on your own."
"The word 'trouble' barely scratches the surface." He replied in a tense but helpless tone. Then, as if he had realized that he was truly running out of options, the old man stopped stalling and sighed with a tired face.
"One of my students came to me, reporting that he had heard some sort of eerie singing in the middle of the night. Initially, I had just waved him off, thinking it might have been someone who couldn't sleep and just… Sang to spend their time. It would have only been that, if not for the fact that the next day after, his friends found the boy asleep with no indication of waking up."
Professor Lucas folded his hands as he leaned on the table.
"They’d tried everything, spraying him with water, slapping hi.. He was already two days in a coma when they finally brought this matter to my attention. But the case was far from unique; it was only starting.
"Soon, another male student reported that he had heard singing in the middle of the night as well, this time with a clearer account of the nature of the singing. He was so sure that it was female, and while he did not understand the lyrics, as it was sung in a local dialect, he said the song was sad, yet at the same time… alluring."
"We kept him in a room, monitored throughout the night, only for him to fall asleep and not wake up no matter what once morning came. Two days later, another male student reported to Jaya the same circumstances, panicking for his life, even though we didn't broadcast the nature of this strange incident outside of the faculty."
Professor Lucas let out another hefty sigh as he leaned back, a frown still taut on his face.
"We tried letting him drink coffee, exercising–doing the best we could to prevent him from sleeping. But despite the room we held him in being empty, right as the night rose to the sky, he would say that he heard the singing and that he must follow it."
"I’m assuming you didn't let him go." Donny threw out his questions as soon as the opportunity for one showed up.
He got a nod back as an answer.
"On the third day of that student being awake, he suddenly fainted and, just like the others, fell into a coma-like slumber."
"And how long ago has the last man fallen asleep?" Lydia inquired from her seat near the podium, her brows furrowed in tight lines.
The professor coughed as he looked down at the dark wood desk, in time with the ruckus going on outside.
"That was yesterday evening."
"So we’d not be wrong to assume that another instance would be happening either tonight or tomorrow." Dharma noted that as he sat on the tables instead of the chairs like everyone else, his black bandana felt like it had been tied a bit tighter than usual. "So who’s the unlucky fellow?"
"You’ve met him."
Henry answered instead of the professor, whose expression had been hidden under his bowed head and the shade of his folded hands. An invisible weight pulled on the old man’s shoulders, who had yelled so ferociously but moments ago, causing them to sag low with defeat.
Sorrowful, his voice flowed and cracked with desperation. "We thought it was just targeting young students, whatever it is, so we employed a curfew campus-wide for the students and had the professors take over the night watch but—but we were careless."
BANG!
The backdoor of the classroom opened with so much force it would have flown off the hinges, as Ayunda had rushed in with panic and an ashen face. Her eyes scanned the room, darting wild all around the room until they found hers.
The girl walked over with haste.
Running inside after her was the other professor, her grandfather, calling for her name with such urgency that it could suffocate those who heard his voice, his desperation.
"Ayunda!"
"Ayunda, stop!"
She ignored him, her steps faltering but nevertheless struggling to move as she found her target.
Once she arrived in front of Tira’s seat, the girl kneeled on her feet.
"I don’t deserve your forgiveness for looking the other way as you’ve suffered." She choked out in between her sobs, her tears flowing and wetting the floor.
Her hands trembled as she held Tira’s foot in place with a force that was barely there.
Warm, prickly, fingers dug through her skin as if thorns had sprouted from the crown of the girl’s head. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry for it all! I’ll do anything you ask, but just, please–"
She glances back up, showing to the select few in the room the ruined face of the first year’s diva. The beloved class president, the proud flower of the science faculty, the choir angel—reduced to a wilting weed begging for help from the trash of the school's ecosystem.
Ayunda. Ayunda Putri Prasista. Ayu to her friends. That was how she had introduced herself from the beginning of the school year.
"I’m begging you, Tira, please... Save my grandfather."
Studying eyes that had reflected a portrait of her on curved lenses, she found that despite it being the perfect moment for her to feel an emotion, her heart was surprisingly detached. They had never cared for each other, merely acquaintances stuck in the same place; who were only aware of each other’s names and appearance out of social politeness and nothing more.
But far from it for Tira to refuse a plea for help for the sake of someone else. Not after what she had withstood for the last eight months prior to the end of this era.
"I’ll see what I can do. For now,"
Even if they were never friends. As this was the right thing to do.
"Sleep."
With her hand placed on Ayunda’s forehead, she channeled her energy through the uneven top of the girl's head, watching carefully as her eyes slowly fluttered to a close and caught her shoulders before she hit the floor, assured that she was now filled with peace.
Eyeing the grandfather with a bit of pity, Tira moved away so he could collect his granddaughter from the carpeted ground with woeful eyes.
Pained at the state of his relative or from the revelation he heard, she could not tell, but pain was the note that choked his throat as he apologized with his granddaughter in his arms, "I’m sorry for the trouble she caused you. I didn’t know..."
"She already apologized." Tira reminded the old man, with as much of a neutral voice as she could muster, to not sound cold, as she wasn't sure whether he was also to blame for spoiling his grandchild or that it was indifference the resulted to a selfish, conscious decision made by Ayunda herself.
She shook herself away from the thought. There were more important matters at hand.
"Professor Jaya, I assume? Tell me, when did you start hearing that song?"
After tucking the sleeping girl on one of the long benches, he turned to the rest of the group to answer, "I assume Professor Lucas had told you of the circumstances we found ourselves in. As for me, I heard the singing as I was doing night patrol. My partner at the time was a female professor who swore up and down that she heard nothing, even though the voice was crystal clear to me. It echoed in the corridor wall as if the singer was truly present with us at that moment."
Remembering the fight that greeted them just moments ago, she assumed that the man had suggested something insane, something along the lines of– "And you've asked Sir Lucas to let you track the source, I presume?"
"I did."
"Which is still a barmy suggestion!" Sir Lucas fired up again with gusto, as if all the talking they just did was nothing but a breather for him. "Jaya, I know you said it only because you did not know the fate of your granddaughter. You had assumed she was dead, among the many others, and you told me so. I can’t think of why else you would do something that suicidal!"
"I-"
"No, listen here, young man. Yes, I’m calling you a brat because that is what you are!" Sir Lucas had gotten up from his table in a wrathful fury, pointed a shaky finger at his colleague. "You’re not going to throw your life away just to protect a dozen other students you honestly don’t care about when you can’t properly protect your last living family member."
Sir Jaya growled back with a vindictive glare at the older man, "Don’t you dare, Lucas!"
"She NEEDS you right now!"
Sir Lucas put his hand on the man’s shoulder and shook it hard. "Have you forgotten she was begging just moments ago?! Jaya, you still have something left, a chance of redemption, don’t throw it away my friend…"
"I…" Professor Jaya gritted his teeth as he glanced away, almost in shame from being unable to hold their eyes when they met. Even she, who was watching from afar, could feel the intensity of her skin itching at the distance between them. She couldn't fathom how painful it would be to be so close in proximity of righteous anger. "Lucas, I left my son to die…"
"He saved you."
"I buried him with my own hands, Lucas." Jaya sobbed into his own hands, "WHAT KIND OF FATHER HAD TO WATCH HIS OWN SON DIE BEFORE HIM?!"
Sir Lucas paused. Not for long. He kept his face passive, unlike the explosive red mask he had put on earlier.
"A strong one, one that would be there for the family his son had asked you to protect." Sir Lucas gave a tight squeeze on Sir Jaya’s shoulder, seemingly grounding him to his voice, "Akarna asked you to protect Ayu before he went out to get Yulia. He’s not going to blame you for not coming with him at the time, because he knew that his princess would need someone else to look after her when and if she loses her way."
"He was a wonderful son, my friend, and a wonderful father."
Sir Jaya finally let out a heartbreaking cry into his colleague's chest. "I’m- I'm sorry…!"
"There there, nothing to apologize for." The pair of hands that had supported his trembling frame was gentle and careful, patting the back with so much open kindness and acceptance, that she thought the one being held could not help but melt into it.
"It’s been a tough time for us all."
It has been a tough time for everyone, indeed. Tira felt like she wanted to drown in the bay after this.
She waited for the emotional scene to conclude by itself, then asked the question that had been on her mind all the while, minutes later, when the two professors had finally collected themselves enough to resume the conversation, "So when you heard the singing, sir, did you remember the specific hour?"
"It was, ah, around... one thirty-seven in the morning." Professor Jaya wiped the remains of his tears and snot from a tissue pack that Rizal offered. "I had my wristwatch on me and happened to be looking at it when I heard the voice singing not too long after."
"Mind if we ask if you remember the exact time when these students reported hearing the noises and when they fainted?" Donny hurriedly pulled out his notebook to jot down information.
"It was blurry with the first boy, as he was already found in a coma, but for the second student, he said it happened before midnight. The third one said he heard it before two in the morning." Professor Lucas supplied as he faced the group properly again. "And you heard the time for Jaya."
"You said that the third guy, while he did not understand the lyrics, had managed to guess the dialect. Did he manage to convey the melody as well?"
"No, he did not. By the time we thought of asking him, the boy had already fainted from pain." Sir Jaya clenched his fist with a regretful face. "We didn't get a chance to compare whether it was the same song or the same voice singing it, although the voice I heard..."
Donny stopped his writing, waiting patiently as the older gentleman found himself again, almost going into a daze for just a few seconds as his face was marred with nostalgia.
"The voice I heard was that of my late wife."
Professor Lucas gasped in genuine surprise, "Jaya… !"
"This is why I didn’t want to tell you." he grunted, massaging his temple in a circular motion with both hands. "I just—I didn’t know that Ayunda was still alive at the time and—and, seeing that there was no news back from the school until a week later, I assumed..."
With a heavy sigh, the man pulled himself back from the brink of another breakdown. "Anyway, I would not hope it passed to another person, but the working theory I have is that the voice might have differed from one person to another, although I'm unsure if my situation itself is a special case or not, as I am also the first member of the faculty to get ‘infected’ if you can call it that."
A cold draft blew in from the high ventilation, turning the gigantic fan on top of the room briefly to the right. Lydia had fastened her leather jacket, though not zipping it up all the way, and said, "One last question, can you sing for us the gist of the melody? It’s fine if you get it wrong; perhaps it will be the linchpin for our investigation."
Professor Jaya nodded tiredly, now that the wind had blown the clouds away, the light streaming from the window showed how much exactly he had been affected. He looked as if he had lost count of how many nights, or rather, how many sleepless nights he'd endured since his last battle with sleep. Deep dark lines circled his sunken eyes and cheeks. The bruising of age became prevalent due to the shade of his unhealthy parlor, as did the fading light that had slowly but surely flickered in his eyes as he stood against them to relay important information.
Lydia pulled a phone from her pocket, opened a recording app and held it out into the old man’s space respectfully.
Once he was ready, he pressed the record button.
Somberly, the broken man hummed a melody, filled with sorrow and warmth; one that was calming. A soft tone and slow beat, as if inviting one to slumber and to find peace.
A minute later, that hum ended abruptly as Sir Jaya's voice trailed off into silence and shook his head as he stopped the recording.
"That was as much as I remember. It’s getting hard to remember things these days, and since I also had to fight to stay awake, I tried to ignore it as much as possible."
The rest of the conversation went in and out in a blur as she hummed the song internally. A nagging feeling came from the back of her head, telling her that it was familiar and that she had heard this song before.
Listening again to the humming in her head, Tira repeated the melody from the beginning, mimicking what her instinct was telling her. She picked up the part where Sir Jaya had cut off and continued it, digging deep, until the humming turned into whistling, the notes flowed seamlessly into the next part. Calming, inviting, filled with sorrow; the downscale had brought the weight of it all to a full circle.
With a deep breath taken, she tried reaching out to Dias, not knowing if he could even hear her from this distance or if he was even awake at the moment. Tentatively, she sends the message anyway, prodding the situation.
‘Dias?’
A questioning hum made its way back to her almost instantly.
‘That song you were whistling in the infirmary,’ She calmed her thundering heartbeat, not wanting to let any emotion leak into her inquiry. ‘Does it have lyrics?’
‘Yes.’ He confirmed with a light, sing-songy tone, ‘Although it depends on the country. Not one interpretation is ever the same, some lose meaning in the translation. Why?’
Tapping on the desk, Tira wondered if she should tell him of the situation or not. It would take a long time if she did, and now she felt… unsure. Doubt reared its ugly head as the song had made its way here, after only hearing it the first time in the infirmary.
This couldn't be a coincidence... Right?
Another leap of faith. She decided to take trust by the blade in her open palm. Let’s see if it was a dull one this time. ‘It’s a long, complicated story. Mind if I ask you what the song is called?’
‘If translated literally in your language, it would be Call of The Resented.’ Dias’ voice cleared over time. Perhaps he was moving closer in her direction, like chasing a signal for the phone call. ‘Historically, it was not classified as a song; the melody originated as a hymn. Usually chanted by the high priest or shaman of the tribe to quell the restless spirits that were believed to have accumulated in places where battles or mass murders had taken place, to exorcize those who had forsaken themselves from going to the other side and suffering from their existence here due to their strong attachment.’
‘In addition, the hymn was actually not offered to the spirit, that was the melodic part; the prayer itself was meant for Death, as a sign that it could now harvest the one left behind, the resented.’
‘If I can simplify it, the melody is an invitation for Death to come and finish the job properly.’
Tira covered her mouth with her right hand, ignoring the fact that everyone else seemed about to get out of the room and was staring at her as she had lagged from following their steps.
‘So it is a hymn that is supposed to affect those who stand in-between and bring them to actual true death. What about those who are still alive? Does hearing it affect them too?’
‘As far as I am aware, no. Other than perhaps giving some placebo effect of calm, sadness, and or peace to those who heard it due to how the melody was structured, it should not have any other effects.’, Dias’ comment was convincing, as he added more later on with, ‘I mean, you’ve experienced it yourself. Although I only know of the melody, as it was passed orally, the prayer part of the hymn did not survive the assault of time as well as its counterpart. And how did the melody affect you?’
‘Not much, other than curiosity about the song itself.’
She followed the group back to the faculty lounge, trailing behind a distance away so she could focus on the conversation but also think for herself about this situation.
‘Thank you for the input. I’ll let you know later what it’s for.’
‘I shall wait eagerly.’
Tira did not say anything as the rest of the group brainstormed, making plans on how they should investigate while she went off to read the plaques of the faculty and firm of the empty desks to buy more time for herself.
She kept to herself until the two professors left the unconscious Ayunda sprawled on the couch, as they had to hold a meeting separately to discuss the situation and to finally monitor Sir Jaya, now that he had confessed to hiding his affliction for so long.
She waited. And waited. Until absolutely certain that the two people were far gone from any normal or abnormal hearing range before she sat on the empty chair across the couch and opened her mouth.
"I have an idea."
"Yes?" Donny stopped relaying his plan to let her get a word in.
"Gunawan, can you go back and pick up a girl named Sariya?" She took the post-it notes in the middle of the table and jotted down her request in a shorthand that she knew only Sariya would understand. "And give this to her? Make sure nobody else sees it besides her."
"Okay." He took the yellow note off of her, reading it, and not understanding what it was supposed to mean based on his raised eyebrow. He pocketed it in the end. "Wait here a bit, I’ll return soon."
Tira leaned back as she watched Gunawan exit the room with haste, ignoring the looks of confusion coming from everyone else as she closed her eyes to minimize her brain’s input for the next however long it took for the man to return.
Now… all they had to was wait.