The streets of Kolkata were already glowing with harsh yellow streetlights by the time Sanho stumbled out of the neighborhood. His vision was fogged, his mind blank. People bustled past him—families on scooters, vendors closing their shops, stray dogs weaving through the crowd—but all of it blurred into a single noise, a single movement.
His steps were fast, almost frantic, though he didn't know where he was going. He only knew he had to move. Move away from that house. Away from those voices. Away from the image of Sunita in another man's arms.
He walked onto the highroad. Cars hissed by, horns blared, but Sanho hardly noticed. The city seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him, a tunnel of lights and shadows. His heart was beating somewhere far away, like a drum underwater.
In his hand, the small box rattled.
The bracelet.
He had held onto it like a lifeline even after leaving the house. It had been the only thing grounding him, a last remnant of his foolish hope.
He clutched it tighter. His chest burned—not with anger, but a hollow, gnawing emptiness. His mind flashed with every moment he had believed her, every word she'd said, every time he'd imagined a future with her.
And now it was all gone.
He tripped.
The box flew out of his hand and hit the concrete sidewalk. The lid popped open, and the bracelet tumbled out. It rolled, glinting faintly under the streetlight. The small meteoroid stone at its center caught the glow, shimmering like a fallen star.
Sanho stared at it blankly. He'd found it months ago at a roadside stall, a rare piece he'd bought with careful savings. Something about it had felt special, like it carried a story. He had imagined her wearing it, smiling.
But before he could pick it up, there was shouting.
People were screaming.
Sanho blinked, dazed, turning his head slowly. His hand instinctively went to his stomach.
It came back slick with blood.
He stared at his palm in disbelief. Warm, red, sticky blood. His blood.
He looked down. There was a knife handle jutting from his stomach. He hadn't even felt it at first. His shirt was soaked. Blood pooled at his feet, spreading across the footpath, creeping toward the bracelet lying inches away.
He gasped. The world tilted. Noise roared in his ears.
The bracelet was now sitting in a thin river of his blood, the meteoroid stone darkening, almost drinking the color. The silver band gleamed faintly, bathed in red.
His knees buckled. Pain shot through him, sharp and unbearable, but also distant, like he was underwater. His vision blurred at the edges.
People crowded around, their faces distorted, mouths open in silent screams. He heard nothing clearly—just a low ringing, a deep pulse in his head.
He tried to speak but only coughed. More blood spilled from his lips.
Tears ran down his cheeks. Not from the pain, but from something deeper—something breaking completely inside him.
His voice cracked, then rose into a hoarse, raw sound.
He shouted.
A single, final shout that tore out of him like an animal breaking free of a cage. It wasn't just a scream of pain. It was a scream of his whole life.
His broken dreams.
His crushed love.
His loneliness.
His orphaned past.
His failures.
Everything he had held in, everything he had been, poured into that last sound, echoing against the city's walls before being swallowed by the night.
And then it was over.
The pain dimmed.
The crowd faded.
The city disappeared.
Everything in that world ended for him.
---
When he opened his eyes, there was no city. No crowd. No pain.
Just darkness.
A deep, infinite darkness stretching in all directions. There was no ground beneath him, no sky above—just a void.
Yet in that void, one thing remained.
A light.
A soft, glowing light hovering before him, pulsing faintly like a living thing.
It spoke.
> "Hello, Sanho.
Or should I call you… Rana?"
Sanho's voice was hoarse when he replied.
"Where… am I? Afterlife? Dead? Yeah. I'm dead. So… who are you? God, probably?"
The light pulsed brighter, a low hum in its voice.
> "I am no god.
But I was a part of a god.
A deity—or what is called a Dutór."
Sanho let out a short, humorless laugh.
"I see. A deity. Ha. So, are you here to take me to the afterlife?"
The light shifted, like it was shaking its head.
> "No.
But I am amazed.
For someone who is already broken to the core, you are controlling your emotions very well.
One reason is that I am controlling half of your mind.
But still—the other half is in your control.
And you are accepting everything easily."
Sanho's eyes lowered. His voice was flat, tired.
"What's the use of anything anymore? People shouldn't trust anyone in the first place. And I'm lucky. I died right after breaking down. It ended easily. I don't have to suffer anymore."
The light flickered softly.
> "Actually… well. First, I will introduce myself.
I was a deity of the past.
The game that was stopped thousands of years ago is now being played by the Dutors again.
And this time, the Creator has vanished.
Everything is because of one Dutor—my elder brother, the Dutor of Every Emotion.
He killed me and my friends and made a tower with our essence.
Only I—a small essence—escaped through the bracelet.
For five generations I have been running.
But I don't want to run anymore.
I need to do something to stop that game.
Many universes have already been destroyed.
And for that I need someone who can help my powers.
That's why I am choosing you, Sanho.
I want to make you a god."
Sanho blinked, stunned but oddly calm. Then he said simply,
"No. Thanks."
The light dimmed slightly.
> "Why not?"
Sanho closed his eyes.
"I don't want any of that. I just want it all to end and rest forever."
> "You can't…" the light murmured.
"Hey. I don't want to work hard anymore," Sanho said quietly. "I don't want to fight. I don't want to struggle. I just… I'm tired."
The light was silent for a moment, its glow pulsing faintly. Then it spoke again, softer this time.
> "Okay.
I will give you something that will let you be the strongest without any effort."
Sanho's eyes opened slightly.
"Really?"
> "Promise," the light said.
A small, tired smile appeared on Sanho's lips.
"Okay. I'm ready—if I can be lazy but still go against everyone."
The light flared, brilliant now, like a star awakening.
> "Okay.
Sanho, I officially choose you."
The glow enveloped him, warm and overwhelming. For the first time since his death, Sanho felt something—not pain, not emptiness, but a strange, powerful current pulling him forward.