PART 4: The Second Blast That Never Leaves
My breath was still uneven.
My right eye still burned.
My fingers still trembled.
And somewhere in the quiet room,
the air felt… wrong.
Too still.
Too heavy.
As if something was waiting for me to move.
I slowly sat up on the bed, pressing a hand against my ribs.
They still ached from the explosion that had taken everything.
Everything… except me.
The irony hurt more than the wounds.
When I looked around, the room felt unfamiliar.
The shadows looked shaped.
The silence felt alive.
And every small sound I made sounded too loud,
as if someone—or something—was listening.
I took a slow breath.
And that's when it hit me—
I wasn't scared of the dark.
I was scared of losing someone again.
I was scared of losing my mother.
Just the thought made my chest tighten.
And suddenly—
a memory hit me like a slap.
---
A Mother's Warning — A Memory That Returns at the Worst Time
My mother once said:
"Lin, darne se koi kamzor nahi hota.
Na bolne se koi galat nahi hota.
Bas… chup reh ke toot mat jaana."
I didn't understand it then.
But right now?
It felt like she said it for this exact moment.
Because I was breaking quietly.
Inside.
Silently.
Softly.
Like glass under water.
I grabbed the edge of the bed to steady myself.
My heart was beating too fast.
My palms were sweaty.
And my throat felt blocked by a scream I still couldn't release.
---
The Second Explosion — The One That Changed Me
I tried to calm down.
Slow, deep breaths.
But the moment I inhaled, the memory came back—
sharp, heavy, and unavoidable.
It was the day before everything burned.
I don't know if I was talking on a call or just thinking out loud.
The memory is broken.
Incomplete.
Just flashes.
I remember an old woman sitting beside me on the bus stop bench.
Her voice shaking.
Talking about some "Hookman."
A creature from dreams that follows children who carry fear.
At that time, I didn't believe her.
I laughed.
She stared.
Her last words before the blast still echo:
"Beta… dar sapno ko kha jaata hai."
And then—
Boom.
The same burning light.
The same tearing sound.
The same pressure crushing my chest.
The world flipped.
Like the ground disappeared.
The second explosion was not as normal as the first.
There was something different hidden within it—
a ringing sound that didn't belong to this world.
Even now, when I close my eyes,
I can still feel it.
A vibration.
A pull.
A strange energy that touched my right eye first.
That's why the dreams began after the second blast.
That's why the gates appeared.
That's why I can still hear Sin Kyo sometimes when I'm alone.
It wasn't just an accident.
Something else was born that day.
Inside me.
Or around me.
Or maybe—
following me.
---
The Symbol — The Eye That Remembers
I stood up shakily and walked toward the mirror.
My legs felt weak.
My breath still short.
But I needed to look.
Slowly, I lifted my swollen right eyelid.
Pain shot through my head like lightning.
For a split second—
so quick I almost doubted it—
I saw something.
A faint mark.
A shadowy shape.
Like a thin, broken line carved in the corner of my iris.
Not natural.
Not accidental.
Like a symbol.
Like something had touched that eye directly.
I blinked rapidly, breathing through the pain.
The mark vanished.
But the fear stayed.
---
The Fear of Losing My Mother
I pressed my palm against the mirror.
My reflection looked terrified.
Young.
Traumatized.
Dead inside.
But the thing that tore me apart wasn't the explosion.
It wasn't the dream.
It wasn't the hell gates.
It was the thought that if something happened again—
if there was another blast, another nightmare, another loss—
I wasn't strong enough to protect my mother.
And that fear was heavier than any injury.
It made my legs weak.
My throat dry.
My vision blur.
My mind kept whispering:
"Will she die like Sin Kyo?"
"Will I be left alone again?"
"Can I save anyone?"
I closed my eyes hard.
Pain flashed.
But I didn't care.
---
Lin Kyo's Suppressed Voice
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to break.
But no sound came out.
Nothing.
Just like every time.
My trauma didn't shout.
It suffocated.
My voice wasn't lost.
It was trapped.
And when I couldn't hold it anymore—
I opened my diary again.
But this time…
I didn't write words.
I drew the symbol I had seen in my eye.
A broken line.
A half-circle.
And a burn-like curve beneath it.
My hand trembled as I traced it.
Because deep down, I knew—
This symbol wasn't just in my dream.
It wasn't just in my eye.
It was connected to Sin Kyo.
To the gates.
To the explosion.
To the nightmares.
And to something that was slowly waking up inside me.
---
The Chapter End — The Beginning of the Real Story
I closed the diary gently.
My breath finally slowed.
Somewhere outside the room,
a door creaked softly.
My heart jumped.
But when I turned—
no one was there.
Just the empty hallway.
And the feeling that someone had been standing there
a second ago.
Watching.
Waiting.
The dream, the explosion, the mark, the gates—
none of it was random.
Something had started.
Something that would not stop.
And whether I liked it or not…
I was part of it.
Maybe the center of it.
Maybe the reason it happened.
I didn't know.
Not yet.
But this was the first night I accepted one truth—
My nightmares were not dreams.
They were warnings.
And the gates…
they were opening.
Part 4 — The Boy Who Should Have Died
Rainy morning scene; Lin reflects on past memories and lost innocence.
Teaser: Continue — Dive deeper into Lin's internal pain and isolation.