The world outside Ardina's bus window was a blur of green, quickly dissolving into a rainy, foggy haze as the vehicle ascended the winding roads to Cibodas. Inside, the usual cacophony of a high school field trip—discordant guitar strums, off-key singing, and boisterous laughter—filled the air, grating on Ardina's nerves. She retreated deeper into her seat, earphones her only sanctuary, as the familiar discomfort of being an outsider settled over her.

Then, a flicker. A shadow. Not a bird, not a trick of the light, but a shape with wings, pure white and shimmering, keeping pace with the bus. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving Ardina to question her own eyes. She glanced at her sleeping seatmate, then at her oblivious classmates. No one else seemed to notice. Was it just her?

But the shadows returned, more of them this time, hundreds, forming distinct shapes: winged figures, brilliant white against the gloomy sky. Her breath hitched. Angels? A chilling premonition, a frantic pounding in her chest, warned her of impending doom. Then, the screech of tires, the horrifying lurch of the bus, and the world spun into a chaotic nightmare.