Night returned to Maajaan House. The moonlight poured through the shattered windows, laying silver lines across the empty floors. The wind whispered through the corridors where laughter once lived.
In the grand hall, the candle that had lit itself days ago was still burning, its flame steady and unnatural. A low hum pulsed from beneath the floorboards—a rhythm faintly familiar to anyone who had ever felt Maajaan's heartbeat.
The sound of footsteps echoed, soft but deliberate. Kuwarjeet moved slowly through the darkness, guided by the glow. He had aged even more, the cane trembling in his hand, but his eyes were alert. He paused before the wall where the ritual circle had once been drawn.
The air shimmered. Symbols began to rise faintly on the old stones—marks that hadn't appeared since the girls left. Kuwarjeet touched the surface, and it pulsed with light.
"So," he whispered to the house. "You've awakened again."
The candle's flame bent sideways, as if nodding. A whisper slipped through the room—not a voice, but a vibration that spoke straight to the bones.
They will return when the stars align.
Kuwarjeet exhaled, both in relief and dread. "Then we don't have much time."
Outside, the valley wind carried a distant echo—four voices overlapping in laughter, faint and ghostlike, as if Maajaan itself was remembering them.
Far below, beneath the old floor of the study, dust shifted. Something metallic glinted in the dark—an ancient door, half-buried, carved with the same sigil that once glowed beneath Iaa's hands.
The hum grew louder.
And deep within Maajaan's foundations, something began to stir.
Season 1 – End.