The forest had changed again.
What was once thick and shadowy now felt warped — like it was breathing. The trees leaned differently than they had the day before, and the trail behind them… didn't quite lead back the way they came.
Ayaan stopped, panting, hands on his knees.
"We've been walking for hours," he said, his voice low but tight. "And we're circling."
Rehan didn't answer right away. He stood still, his eyes fixed on the canopy above — not focused, just… lost. Like his mind had slipped somewhere far from the forest. Or seeing something he wished he hadn't.
"Rehan?" Ayaan stepped forward. "Hey."
Rehan blinked and came back to himself. "Sorry. I thought I saw… never mind."
They hadn't said it aloud, but both of them knew: the forest didn't want them here. Or maybe, worse — it did.
"Let'srest," Ayaan muttered.
They sat on a log, the silence pressing in like a heavy coat. No birds. No wind. Just the occasional distant cracking sound, like old wood snapping.
Rehan finally whispered, "I think this place is showing us things… testing us. I saw my brother a while back. Walking between trees."
"But your brother's in Canada."
"Exactly."
Ayaan rubbed his face. He hadn't told Rehan, but he'd seen his father too — not how he remembered him, but younger, and staring with empty eyes.
They were both losing grip. And the forest knew exactly what to use against them.
Then came the sound — a low hum. Not mechanical, not natural. Something in-between. It started far off but moved like it had legs. Crawling closer. Surrounding them.
They stood at once, alert.
Rehan whispered, "That's not wind."
Ayaan grabbed his arm. "Move."
They didn't run — they walked fast, careful not to trip. Something told them not to panic. The hum grew behind them, now joined by… whispering? Breathing? They couldn't tell.
And then—
A clearing.
Ayaan stopped dead in his tracks. Rehan collided into him.
There it was.
A small wooden structure.
Old. Abandoned. More like a shrine than a house. Covered in vines, almost hidden under years of neglect.
"This wasn't here before," Ayaan said. "Right?"
Rehan shook his head slowly.
They approached with caution. The air around it felt colder. Stiller.
As Ayaan stepped closer, something caught his eye — a piece of cloth tied to a branch. Torn. Familiar.
It was Sameer's shirt. The red one he wore the day he disappeared.
Rehan's breath caught. "He came here."
Ayaan nodded. "Or was brought here."
Inside, the structure was dark. Dusty. But there were signs of life — ashes in a corner, scattered food wrappers, a worn-out backpack.
And then something else — a line of feathers, black ones, arranged in a perfect circle.
Rehan leaned down. "This is… deliberate."
Ayaan touched the wall. Carvings. Arabic letters — but distorted. Broken. Like someone tried to copy words without knowing their meaning.
Suddenly, Rehan whispered, "We're not alone."
A creak behind them.
They turned.
Nothing.
But the wind had started again — only inside the room. It circled them, cold and biting.
Ayaan took a deep breath and stepped into the feather circle.
Instantly — silence.
The air stilled. Even the tension in his chest vanished.
Then…
A voice. Whispered. Clear. Right behind his ear.
"He's not gone."
He turned — no one.
But in that moment, he understood. Sameer hadn't just vanished.
He was trapped. Somewhere close. Somewhere watching.
Ayaan stepped back out of the circle. The moment he did, the wind returned.
He looked at Rehan, eyes burning with new resolve.
"He's still here."
Rehan's jaw clenched. "Then we're not leaving until we find him."
The forest wasn't just a forest anymore.
It was a cage.
And they were getting closer to its heart.