Arrival of the predators of the Dark

"Kriday… Kriday…"

A voice rippled through the air, dragging him out of his half-dreaming state. His head, still resting against the bus window, lifted lazily as he blinked at the world outside. The landscape blurred past vast plains, rugged hills, and the distant shimmer of snow-capped peaks.

He frowned, searching for the voice, but all he caught was the familiar hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional rustling of snack packets. His sleep-heavy eyes trailed over the bus, scanning for the culprit.

And then, smack.

A hand landed on his shoulder, followed by an infuriatingly smug voice.

"Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?"

Kriday groaned. "Dhrithra…"

Dhrithra, his self-proclaimed best friend, grinned at him from the aisle seat. Skinny as a twig but carrying an aura that could either scare people away or make them his loyal followers, there was no in-between. And, as always, he had managed to shove Kriday against the window so he could sprawl out comfortably.

"Look over there," Dhrithra nudged him, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Kriday followed his gaze and immediately regretted it.

A few seats ahead, Shishta sat laughing, completely unaware of the chaos she was causing inside Kriday's head. Her sharp features, sun-kissed skin, and effortless confidence made her look like a warrior from an ancient legend. The kind who could probably slay a dragon and still make it back in time for a tea party.

But the real irony? Her name, Shishta, meant "well-mannered." And if there was anyone who did not fit that definition, it was her.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Kriday asked, feigning ignorance.

Dhrithra smirked. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the girl you've been sketching instead of paying attention in class?"

Kriday stiffened. His fingers instinctively clutched the small sketchbook tucked under his arm.

"Shut up."

Dhrithra wasn't having it. "Don't you think it's about time you handed that masterpiece over? Or are you planning to frame it and stare at it till graduation?"

Kriday scowled. "She doesn't like guys like me, okay? Case closed."

"Ugh, here we go again." Dhrithra rolled his eyes dramatically. "Dude, you are the biggest coward I've ever met. And I once saw a guy run away from a squirrel."

Kriday groaned, rubbing his face. "Can we not do this now?"

Dhrithra leaned back with a sigh, shaking his head. Kriday's hopelessness was an unsolved mystery, even to him.

"Fine," he muttered. "But don't come crying to me when someone else gives her a sketch and she falls for him."

Kriday shot him a glare, but Dhrithra just chuckled, closing his eyes as if the whole thing was no big deal.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The bus rumbled on, the chatter of students fading into background noise. Kriday turned back toward the window, sketchbook still in his hands, his heart annoyingly aware of the girl laughing a few seats away.

Maybe Dhrithra was right.

Or maybe… some things were better left unsaid.

For now, the road stretched ahead, leading them toward Tso Moriri, toward their geological expedition, toward whatever fate had planned.

And whether he liked it or not, Kriday knew deep down that this trip would change something for sure between them.

12 Midnight, 13th June 2055, Somewhere enroute to Tso Morari Nappe

The bus hummed along the winding mountain road, its autopilot system effortlessly keeping them on course at a steady 50 km/hr. Outside, the world was a frozen blur,snow-capped peaks loomed in the darkness, and the crisp air left an icy veil on the windows. In this era, road safety wasn't much of a concern.

Thanks to the Sarvghan System, vehicles practically drove themselves. With obstacle-detection sensors, automatic braking, and an insurance policy that made it mandatory, accidents were almost unheard of. Sure, the system had its flaws—like its refusal to handle off-road terrain, forcing governments to actually maintain roads—but it was a small price to pay for a collision-free world.

And to think, all this was the brainchild of a Nalanda Gurukul alumnus, Satyanarayan Sarvghan. A legend whose innovations shaped modern transportation. He wasn't alone in reshaping the world. Euler Matt's autonomous systems had ensured that driverless tech became as common as breathing filtered, microbe-free air—another necessity, thanks to the genetic mutations that plagued 30% of the surviving population after the last great catastrophe.

Despite all these advancements, some things never changed. Like the hierarchy of college students.

A low buzz of chatter filled the bus, but some eyes weren't just chatting, they were watching.

A group of students snuck side glances at Kriday, muttering under their breath. The financial aid kid. That was enough for them to dislike him.

But they weren't accounting for Dhrithra.

Sitting next to Kriday, his sharp glare cut through the dimly lit bus like a knife. A single look. That's all it took for the whispers to die down. One guy swallowed hard and pretended to be deeply invested in his wristband display. Another looked away so fast, he almost snapped his neck.

Kriday, oblivious as ever, continued staring out the window, lost in his thoughts.

Dhrithra sighed, shaking his head. "Idiots don't learn from the past."

The bus had settled into a comfortable silence, save for the occasional shuffling of students shifting in their seats. Most had drifted off into light naps, their heads bobbing with the rhythm of the road.

And then..

"How much longer till we reach?"

A voice cut through the quiet, startling those who were still awake.

A few groggy groans followed. Someone muttered, "Just go to sleep, dumb*. It's 00:16 at night."**

Big mistake.

"I didn't ask you, you son of a b**."**

The bus collectively tensed. That voice. Sharp, powerful, and undeniably dominant.

It was Shishta.

Instantly, the air inside the bus crackled with tension. A few students sat up straighter, watching as if they were about to witness a gladiator match.

"Ohhh, here we go," Dhrithra muttered under his breath, already knowing where this was headed.

And just like that, the war began.

The guy who dared to answer Shishta didn't back down. "Well, excuse me, Princess. Didn't know you owned time itself."

"You want me to rearrange your face so you can check the time from a different angle?" she snapped back.

The temperature inside the bus spiked. Students were now fully awake, some holding back laughter, others waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Dhrithra, never one to miss out on drama, leaned forward. "Shishta, I think he's scared now. You should totally let him off easy."

The guy scoffed. "I'm not scared of her."

Big mistake. Again.

Shishta cracked her knuckles, and in that moment, the guy reevaluated all his life choices.

But before things could escalate further—

"Enough."

A calm, authoritative voice sliced through the chaos. Lights flicked on.

At the front of the bus stood Professor Chandraprakash Aryavan. Late 40s, but with an unshakable presence.

"If you two are done waking up the entire bus, I'd suggest you sit down before I personally assign you both extra coursework."

A groan. Then silence.

Shishta and the guy reluctantly backed off, their glares still locked. But the battle was over. For now.

Dhrithra smirked. "That was fun."

Kriday, who had mastered the art of pretending to be invisible, sighed in relief. "Can this trip get any weirder?"

With that, peace returned to the bus.

Outside, the road stretched toward the remote Tso Moriri nappe, a geological marvel hidden in the Western Himalayas. A place so valuable that foreigners weren't even allowed past Pangong Tso without special clearance.

This wasn't just a field trip. This was an expedition.

The bus had just crossed Pangong Tso, the moonlight reflecting off the lake's surface like molten silver. Beyond it, the mountains loomed silent, watching.

Inside, most students were dozing off, the long journey finally weighing on them. A few, like Dhrithra and Shishta, were wide awake, their senses still alert. Kriday had his head resting against the cold window, staring blankly into the dark.

The road ahead was surprisingly smooth, a result of the government's recent push to open these remote regions for development. Yet, there was no sign of life.

No shepherds. No stray dogs. No distant flicker of campfires.

Just an unnerving silence.

01:47a.m. 14th June 2055

A few minutes after passing Pangong Tso, the police escort wagon finally joined them, emerging from a side checkpoint. Officer Pranav Kashyap, stationed inside the bus, exhaled slightly, relieved to have backup. He tapped his comms. "Wagon-7, you're in position?"

A crisp response came through. "Affirmative. Tailing you now. ETA to checkpoint: 10 minutes."

The bus driver stole a glance at the rearview mirror, confirming their presence. "Guess we're in good hands now, huh?" he muttered.

Pranav gave a curt nod. "Let's hope we don't need them." For a while, everything was normal. Then, the temperature dropped. Not gradually, but all at once.

Kriday, half-asleep, shivered and pulled his jacket closer. "Did it just get colder?" he murmured. Dhrithra, staring out the window, frowned.

Something had changed.

The mountains seemed… different. Their shapes unfamiliar, their ridges sharper than before. "…This doesn't feel right," he muttered.

Shishta shot him a look. "What now?"

Before he could answer, the wind picked up fast. A violent gust slammed against the bus, rattling the windows. It was too sudden, too forceful.

In the rearview mirror, the police wagon's headlights shifted. Pranav frowned. "What the—?"

The wagon veered left.

Not a smooth turn. A sharp, unnatural swerve. "Wagon-7, what's going on?" Pranav barked into his comms. No response. "Wagon-7, respond!"

Still nothing.

His heart pounded. He checked his display—

Their vehicle wasn't even on the mapped route anymore.

Inside the Wagon

The officers inside the police wagon were in full panic mode. "System Isn't responding! We're locked out!" Officer Rathi shouted, his grip white-knuckled on the wheel. "Manual override! NOW!" barked Officer Naved.

"I tried! It's f***ing frozen!" The steering wheel turned on its own, dragging them toward an unmapped path.

"Sarvghan System has malfunctioned." The realization hit like ice water.

Senior Officer Mehta grabbed his comms. "Command! Command! We've lost control of the—" Static.

His display flickered. 

Then came a low, humming noise, a sharp electronic distortion, filling the air. Officer Naved's breath hitched. "What the hell is that?" Then, the emergency lights turned red.

Inside the Bus

Pranav's fingers hovered over his holoscreen, trying to force communication. Nothing. No signal. His jaw clenched.

"Hit on the gas," he ordered the driver.

The driver hesitated. "Sir, the system is—"

"I SAID, Hit on the gas." The authority in his voice left no room for argument. The driver raised the speed of the bus to almost 70 km/hr. Shishta turned, noticing his tension. "What's going on?"

Pranav didn't answer, his focus was on the comms.

Then..

A voice crackled through. It was Officer Mehta.

"Cadet Kashyap, they're here—"

The signal was cut off.

Pranav felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers tightened around his glock-43. Outside, the wind howled. Something was coming.

"Are you mad or what?!"

The annoyed words pierced through the tense silence as Dhrithra pushed his head lower, his fingers digging into his scalp.

But he wasn't listening.

His gaze was locked on the front windshield, eyes widening as he strained to see what lay ahead.

Kriday, still oblivious, turned to him, his voice confused. "You—" He never finished. The bus screeched to a halt. A sickening silence followed.

Everything stood still.

A single figure stood in front of the bus, bathed in the dim glow of its headlights. It wasn't human. Not entirely. Its right arm was grotesquely elongated, the bone structure distorted, twisted. The flesh seemed too tight, as if struggling to contain whatever lay beneath.

A low, unnatural murmur spread through the bus.

The professor's face was pale, his breath uneven. "It can't be." His fingers clenched the seat beside him. "The Isolated are here."

A single curse left his lips. "Damn them."

Pranav didn't move. His breath slowed. His grip tightened. This wasn't fear.

No.

This was something far worse.

A battle in his head, one that had been waiting for this moment.

"Do something." The voice in his mind wasn't his own.

It was the voice of his duty. It screamed at him, and ordered him to move. To act. To protect. But he couldn't. Not yet.

Because the other voice, the one that always whispered in the darkness, wasn't screaming. It was laughing.

"You can't win."

Pranav stared ahead, his body rigid, but his mind fractured.

A choice.

If he fought, it wouldn't just be against them, it would be against himself. The memories, the scars, the failures, they would claw at him harder than any creature outside. But if he surrendered…The thought choked him. Not because it meant death, but because it meant he had lost before the fight even began.

The laughter in his mind grew. The voice turned into something familiar. Something he had buried deep. A past mistake. A moment of hesitation. And the price he had paid for it.

His fingers trembled near his weapon. The weight of it was unbearable.