Silence.
Again.
But this one was different.
This silence felt alive. Like it was watching. Listening. Breathing right next to them, but just out of sight.
---
Ayaan stared at the bed where a version of himself lay twitching, eyes wide and empty.
And Sameer—no longer whispering, no longer staring—was now standing.
He looked straight at Ayaan, eyes hollow but alert.
"You're not supposed to be here yet," Sameer said.
Ayaan's voice was barely a breath. "What is this place?"
Sameer tilted his head. "It's not a place. It's a choice."
Ayaan took a step forward. "We came back for you. You disappeared, remember?"
Sameer blinked slowly. "I didn't disappear. I was taken."
The lights overhead began to flicker in rhythm now. Faster. Faster. Like a heartbeat rising.
"And now that you're here," Sameer whispered, "it knows you're ready."
Ayaan moved toward him. "Sameer, listen—"
But the world around them bent.
Walls twisted. The bed dissolved into ash. And the hospital hallway turned black… not dark — black. As if light had never existed here at all.
Then came the voice.
Low. Wet. Almost human.
"You were warned not to cross again."
---
Rehan was still staring at the cracked wall where the girl had been — or maybe where she never was.
The reflection of himself still lingered. It moved on its own now. Breathing steadily. Watching him.
"You think you're here to find Sameer," the reflection said.
"But you were always going to return. You just didn't remember why."
Rehan swallowed hard. "You're not me."
"I'm what you left behind."
The lights dimmed.
And the reflection stepped through the mirror.
Not into his world.
But into him.
---
Sameer stood alone now.
Back in the kitchen again.
Only this time… the windows were gone. The door, gone. His mother still stood at the stove, still smiling, still slicing—only now, the counter bled.
And outside the window that wasn't there anymore, the forest leaned in.
He closed his eyes.
And spoke aloud.
"I accept."
The walls groaned.
And the kitchen burned.
---
Back in the clearing…
The wooden door began to rot in real time — collapsing in slow motion, splinters turning to ash mid-air.
The trees didn't just lean now.
They moved.
Roots curling inwards, leaves stretching toward the ground.
Because now, the forest had touched them all.
Not just their memories.
Not just their fears.
But their truths.
---
Far away… or maybe deep within…
The girl reappeared, alone, somewhere beyond time.
She looked straight ahead, past the trees, past the lies, past the pain.
And she whispered,
"They're waking up.
But they still don't know what they truly are."
And behind her, the shadows nodded.
---
To be continued…