Aarav stumbled backward as the thing wearing Kabir's face stepped toward him.
Every movement was wrong—too smooth, too slow, too deliberate.
Like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.
"Kabir… please," Aarav whispered, even though he already knew this was not his brother.
The creature blinked. When its eyelids opened again, more blackness spilled out, dripping down its cheeks like ink.
"Why do you struggle?" the not-Kabir asked.
"You knew this world was cruel long before you fell into mine."
Aarav's breath caught.
The creature's voice was soft but sharp, slicing into memories he tried so hard to keep buried.
"Your mother hides her exhaustion behind a smile."
"Your brothers pretend the house isn't breaking."
"And you—"
It pointed at him with a trembling, childlike hand.
"—you pretend you aren't angry."
Aarav froze.
"Stop," he whispered.
But the creature leaned closer, its hollow eyes widening.
"Angry at the world."
"Angry at yourself."
"Angry because you cannot save anyone… even here."
Aarav clenched his fists until his nails cut into his palms.
Then the ground trembled beneath them.
Shadows poured from the cracks like liquid night, crawling up the crater walls, slithering around Aarav's feet. They clung to him like hungry hands.
He tried to pull free, but the shadows tightened.
The creature smiled—Kabir's lips but not Kabir's soul.
"You were chosen because you break."
A scream tore from Aarav's throat—this time not in fear, but in rage.
"I won't break," he choked. "Not for you. Not for this place."
The shadows paused.
The creature tilted its head.
Then—something shifted.
Aarav felt heat rising in his chest, spreading through his veins like fire awakening after years of sleep. The shadows recoiled slightly, as if burned.
"What… what is happening?" Aarav gasped.
The creature hissed.
"No. Not yet."
Its form flickered—Kabir's shape dissolving, stretching, tearing apart. Beneath the childlike form, something monstrous writhed, desperate to stay hidden.
Aarav's heartbeat pounded so loud the air vibrated with it.
The fire inside him surged.
The shadows exploded away from his body.
A shockwave of blue light burst from his chest, cutting through the red fog, slicing across the crater like a blade. The creature shrieked—a sound that made the broken skyscrapers tremble.
Its form warped violently.
For a moment, it was Kabir again.
Then a stranger.
Then a twisted silhouette of Aarav himself.
Finally—it dissolved into ash and vanished into the fog.
Aarav fell to his knees, shaking, breathless.
The blue glow around him faded, leaving only silence and dust.
"What… was that power?" Aarav whispered.
A voice answered behind him—not the creature's voice, not the whisper from before, but something new.
Older.
Stronger.
Almost… human.
"That, Aarav," the voice said, "was the part of you this world has been waiting for."
Aarav spun around.
A figure stood on the cracked road above the crater—a tall man in a dark coat, eyes glowing faint blue, watching him with an expression that was not kindness… but recognition.
"Welcome to the fracture," the man said softly.
"It's time you learned why you were really chosen."
The man stood at the top of the crater, coat rippling in the dead air. His eyes glowed faint blue—familiar somehow, but in a way Aarav wished they weren't.
Aarav forced himself to stand, legs trembling.
"Who… are you?"
The man descended slowly, each step echoing like a drumbeat on hollow ground.
"Someone who survived what you're about to face," he said.
Then, almost as if it pained him:
"Someone who didn't break beautifully enough to be chosen."
Aarav frowned. "Chosen… for what?"
A thin smile touched the man's lips, humorless and cold.
"To fix the fracture."
Aarav shook his head. "I don't understand—"
The man lifted a hand. The air froze.
Not the temperature—reality itself.
The red sky stopped swirling.
The shifting shadows froze like statues.
Even the dust suspended in the air hung motionless.
Aarav stumbled backward. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," the man replied. "This is what this world truly looks like when it isn't pretending to be alive."
He stepped closer, the blue glow in his eyes dimming.
"The fracture is dying, Aarav. And when it dies…"
He pointed upward.
"…your world goes with it."
Aarav's pulse hammered. "Why mine? Why not someone else?"
The man studied him with unsettling calm.
"Because the fracture was born from your world."
A pause.
"And from someone like you."
Aarav's breath hitched. "Like me?"
The man nodded.
"Once, years ago, another child fell into this place."
His voice cracked just slightly.
"He had hopes. Fears. A family. Just like you."
Aarav felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
"What happened to him?"
The man looked away.
"He couldn't handle what the fracture demanded."
Aarav swallowed. "And you? Were you with him?"
The man sighed—a long, broken sound.
"He was my brother."
Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Aarav stepped forward. "What was his name?"
The man's jaw tightened.
"Aakash."
Aarav froze.
A name he knew.
A name whispered in old news stories, missing posters, rumors—
A boy who vanished one evening without a trace.
"You're lying…" Aarav whispered, but his voice sounded weak even to himself.
"I wish I were."
The man knelt, eye level with Aarav.
"What you faced—the creature wearing your brother's face—that was the fracture testing you."
His voice dropped darker.
"It's not done."
Aarav felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"What does it want from me?"
The man's fingers curled into fists.
"It wants your light."
"Your anger."
"Your fear."
Aarav stepped back, chest tightening.
"It wants the parts of you that hurt the most."
A single crack sounded beneath their feet.
The frozen world began to move again.
Dust fell.
The sky churned.
Shadows twitched awake like starving hounds.
The man grabbed Aarav's wrist with iron strength.
"Listen to me. There is a place—The Core."
"If you reach it, you can stop the fracture from spreading."
He leaned in, voice urgent.
"But everything between here and the Core will try to break you."
Aarav's voice trembled. "Why help me?"
The man hesitated.
Then quietly…
"Because I couldn't save my brother."
"But maybe… you can save yours."
The ground trembled beneath them.
Something enormous awakened in the fog ahead.
A roar shook the city—deep, ancient, furious.
The man's eyes hardened.
"Run. Now."
Aarav didn't need to be told twice.
He ran.
And behind him, something monstrous moved.