Gani’s frantic screams warning Dika to halt seemed entirely unheard by the dazed boy. Caught in the crushing grip of hypothermia tearing through his consciousness, Dika was entirely swept away by a powerful illusion—a mirage promising searing warmth in the dead, wicked night of Mount Aruna.

"Dika! Don't go in there! That’s not a shop!" Rian roared with what little strength he had left, gripping Sita's arm tightly while forcing his legs to push forward after Dika, who was drifting further away.

Yet Dika's steps only quickened, dragged toward the clearing like iron pulled by an invisible magnet.

The instant Dika pierced the heavy veil of fog hugging the ridge, the landscape before his eyes mutated entirely in a single blink. The rows of skeletal pine trees and grim brush vanished, replaced by a massive, brightly illuminated courtyard.

Dika gaped where he stood. Stretched out before him was a bustling traditional market, humming with life just like a night bazaar packed deep within a crowded village. Hundreds of people drifted past, dressed in a bizarre fusion of traditional and vintage attire—some wearing frayed kebaya fabrics, tattered sarongs, or old-fashioned formal wear, strolling together while carrying woven bamboo baskets.

The atmosphere hummed with vibrant energy. The air was filled with echoing laughter, bartering banter, the shuffling of human footsteps, and the gentle, rhythmic striking of traditional instruments.

The most agonizing assault on their mental defenses, however, was the thick, rich aroma of brewed black coffee and traditional spiced dishes wafting from every corner of the tented food stalls lining the market—a scent desperately clawing at their empty, freezing stomachs.

"Oh, man... there really is a shop... it's so crowded..." Dika muttered, his eyes wide with spellbound awe, his mouth watering. The bitter cold and agony racking his frame were instantly forgotten. Without a second thought, Dika marched straight through the market's entrance gate. "Food! Finally, some hot food!"

"Dika! Wait, you idiot!" Gani yelled, finally catching up, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Gani swept his eyes across the market with eyes blown wide in horror, sensing an absolute, profound wrongness radiating from every single pale-faced person drifting past them.

Rian and Maya trailed close behind Gani, supporting Sita, who had nearly lost consciousness entirely. The moment they stepped past the fog boundary and crossed into the market grounds, a wave of unnatural, heavy heat washed over their faces, melting the ice beads clinging to their jackets in seconds.

"Gani... what... what is this place?" Maya whimpered in pure terror, clamping her fingers hard around Gani's jacket sleeve. She stared at a disheveled elderly woman sitting near a stall, gazing blankly ahead without blinking while lazily stirring a dark liquid inside a clay bowl. "Those people... why are their movements so stiff?"

"I don't know, May! But we can't get separated! Dika's already gone too far in!" Gani panicked, spotting Dika's back weaving deep into the narrow aisle of vendor stalls packed with pale onlookers.

"Dika! Stop wandering off! Get back here!" Rian yelled, a mix of anger and sheer panic sharpening his voice as he dragged his heavy boots after Dika.

Dika ignored his friends completely. He kept walking down the wooden stalls lining the left and right sides of the market path. The scent of hot coffee grew sharper, originating from a tiny stall at the corner tended by an old woman draped in a jet-black head covering.

"Ma'am... excuse me, I'd like to order hot coffee and some hot soup, anything is fine as long as it's warm!" Dika announced, dropping straight onto a long wooden bench set up in front of the stall, vigorously rubbing his stiff palms together.

The elderly proprietress slowly raised her head. Her face remained shrouded in the dim, flickering shadow of an oil lamp, but her lips stretched into a wide, impossibly stiff grin, revealing a row of blackened teeth.

"Go right ahead, young man... all the food here is warm and delicious... especially for special guests who have traveled from afar..." the old woman rasped in a whispery drone, sounding as though her voice crawled straight up from the bottom of a dry well.

At that exact moment, Rian, Gani, Maya, and Sita arrived at the front of the stall where Dika sat. Gani immediately clamped his hands onto Dika's jacket collar, hauling him forcibly to his feet from the wooden bench.

"Get up, Dik! We need to get out of here right now! This isn't a human place!" Gani snapped firmly, his eyes darting across the market as dozens of surrounding patrons abruptly halted their steps and snapped their heads around in unison to glare straight at Gani's group in absolute silence.

"What is your problem, Gan?! A guy's just trying to rest and eat and you're dragging him around!" Dika protested irritably, shoving Gani's hand off roughly. "Can't you see how friendly they are? They're getting us hot coffee!"

"Dika, wake up! Look closely at what they're selling!" Maya shrieked hysterically, pointing a shaking finger toward the vendor stalls beside the coffee shop.

Dika whipped his head around—and the smile instantly froze on his face.

Spread across the wooden tables of those stalls were no vegetables, fruits, or fresh meals. Displayed and peddled across the night market were piles of ruined, decades-old vintage backpacks, mountaineering jackets crusted with dried black bloodstains, shattered antique mountaineering watches, and human skulls neatly stacked like pyramids of fruit at a market stall.

Dika froze, his breath catching tight in his throat. The warmth he had imagined instantly mutated into a freezing spike piercing straight through his heart.

"Let's... let's get out of here... now!" Rian whimpered in shaking terror, throwing his arm around the limp frame of Sita while gripping Maya's hand to haul them backward away from the phantom market.

Gani nodded frantically, yanking Dika's arm as the boy stood paralyzed in shock. "Run! Get out through the market gate!"

The four friends, fueled by their last remaining scraps of adrenaline, spun around and bolted headlong down the dirt path toward the market entrance gate where they had entered—a rocky crevice flanked by two weathered wooden pillars supporting a roof of dry thatch.

Behind them, the lively laughter of the market patrons suddenly morphed into piercing shrieks and triumphant roars of rage echoing across the valley, hot on the heels of their desperate escape.

Maya sprinted at the front, leading the charge toward the exit archway. They were only meters away from the boundary fog of salvation.

Yet the exact second Maya lifted her foot to step past the wooden pillars of the market gate...

Crack... crack... krrrck...

The chilling sound of snapping bone detonated directly above Maya's head.

Maya whipped her head upward in mounting horror.

The wooden entrance sign, which had looked normal and sturdy moments before, instantly decayed, softened, and morphed into a horrifying interlocking lattice of ancient human skeletons, pitch-black with rot, dripping thick, foul-smelling fluids straight down onto Maya's shoulder.

Maya let out a piercing shriek of pure terror, collapsing hard onto the dirt beneath the gateway, while the path ahead slammed shut with a concussive wall of solid stone, permanently sealing off the exit of the phantom market for all eternity.