Aarav woke up, drenched in sweat, his breath rapid and shallow. The dream had felt so real. It had been nine years—nine years that seemed like a mere blink. A lifetime of emotions, power, and battles in a universe so vast, yet so contained within him. He had felt invincible, feared, and… older. But now, as he lay there in his bed, still a child, the warmth of the morning sun gently hitting his face, he could hardly believe it.
The dream. It had to be a dream.
Or was it?
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, staring at his tiny hands. There were no powers in these hands. No gravity-bending abilities, no super strength, no magnetic control. There was just the innocence of childhood—the boy who loved superheroes and imagined himself as one. The thought brought him a sense of calm, but also a gnawing emptiness.
The mirror on the wall reflected an 8-year-old boy staring back, with wide eyes full of wonder, but also a trace of something deeper. A longing. He couldn't remember much from the last nine years. His mind felt foggy, fragmented. Had he really lived those nine years, or was it just a figment of his imagination, a creation of his mind trying to escape reality?
He needed answers.
As he got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, his thoughts wandered back to that last moment. The battle. The enemy. The portal. The feeling of being pulled apart by an invisible force, the rippling sensation of being both everywhere and nowhere. Was it possible that he hadn't just woken up from a dream? Was it possible that he had, in fact, returned to a younger version of himself—trapped in a loop he didn't understand?
His mother greeted him with a smile, setting a bowl of cereal on the table.
"Good morning, Aarav! How was your sleep?"
"Good morning, Mom," Aarav replied, his voice shaky. "Uh, it was fine."
She noticed the uncertainty in his eyes but didn't push. She continued with her usual morning routine, humming softly as she moved about the kitchen.
Aarav sat at the table, trying to focus on the cereal in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to the dream—or was it a memory?—that haunted him. The words of the mysterious figure in the battle echoed in his mind:
"You're not just a dreamer, Aarav. You're part of something much bigger. You're trapped in a loop. A never-ending cycle, connected by numbers, by infinity."
What did that even mean?
Suddenly, his phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a text from Meera.
"Are you okay? You seemed off yesterday."
Aarav hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keys. Should he tell her? Should he explain the strange feeling of being pulled between two worlds, of being stuck in a never-ending loop?
He typed out a quick reply.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… strange dreams. Maybe I'm just tired."
He stared at the text for a moment before sending it. He couldn't tell her everything—not yet. He didn't fully understand it himself.
As the day went on, the feeling that something was terribly wrong grew stronger. The world around him felt normal, too normal. Everything was as it should be—a quiet neighborhood, kids playing outside, cars driving by. But Aarav knew this wasn't real. This wasn't his world. Or maybe it was, but it was part of a different reality, one that he was still trying to piece together.
In the afternoon, he found himself wandering through the park near his house. The grass was soft under his feet, and the wind blew gently, but his mind was elsewhere. He was searching for something, anything, that might explain what had happened to him.
That's when he saw it. The symbol. It was etched into the side of a tree, as though it had always been there, waiting for him. It was a circle with an infinity symbol inside it. A number. Aarav's heart skipped a beat. He recognized it. He had seen it before—in the other world, in the places he had traveled to during his battle. But how? Why was it here, in this universe?
His mind raced as he traced the symbol with his finger. Suddenly, the air around him seemed to hum with energy, and a low, rumbling sound filled the air. The world around him began to blur, as though reality itself was bending.
"No," Aarav whispered to himself. "Not again."
Before he could react, a flash of light engulfed him, and his surroundings shifted. The park disappeared, and he was no longer standing on the soft grass. Instead, he found himself in a strange, shifting landscape—a place where the laws of physics didn't seem to apply. The air felt thick with energy, and the number that had been etched on the tree now glowed brightly before him.
This was it. He was back. Not just in a dream, but in the loop.
A voice echoed in the distance, soft but clear.
"You are not just an observer, Aarav. You are the key. The numbers that bind this universe are tied to you. You can travel between worlds, but the question is—can you escape the loop?"
Aarav's heart pounded in his chest. Escape the loop? Was that what he was supposed to do? Was he really trapped here, forever traveling between parallel universes, forever bound by the number, the infinity symbol?
The voice continued, "There are others, but you are the one who must make the choice. Will you continue this cycle, or will you break free?"
Aarav clenched his fists, determination welling up inside him. He wasn't going to be trapped forever. He would find a way out. He had to.
With a deep breath, he stepped forward, ready to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that this was just the beginning of something far bigger than he had ever imagined.