Asraloka I: The Hidden Gate

The sun dipped low over Pulasaren, painting the sky in shades of soft orange as school let out. I, Wirya, clung to the fading laughter of my friends, Medi and Rian, as they raced ahead, their figures shrinking with every stride.

My legs, always a bit slower, began to ache, and soon I had to stop, my breath coming in short, gasping bursts. When I looked up, they were gone, swallowed by the winding alleys of our quiet town.

Panic, cold and sharp, pricked at me. I walked faster, calling their names, but only silence answered. The houses around me grew unfamiliar, each corner turning me further from the path home, until a strange, quiet building appeared at the end of a narrow lane. It looked like an old Javanese keraton, weathered and half-forgotten, its low stone fence hinting at secrets within.