Aarav sprinted across the shattered road, lungs burning, heart pounding a sick rhythm against his ribs.
Behind him, the fog churned like a living sea.
And from within it—
A roar.
No animal he knew could make such a sound.
It was too deep, too layered—like a hundred voices screaming through one throat.
The man with the broken eyes ran beside him, grip tight on Aarav's wrist as if letting go meant death.
**"Don't slow down,"** he warned.
His voice was steady, but his jaw clenched—the fear was there, buried but real.
A shadow lunged through the fog—a massive limb, clawed and dripping black mist. It slammed into the ground behind them, shattering pavement like glass.
Aarav stumbled. "What *is* that?!"
The man didn't look back.
**"The fracture's hunger."**
A second roar tore through the air.
Buildings trembled. Dust rained. The sky shook.
Aarav risked a glance over his shoulder—
And his blood went cold.
A colossal shape moved behind the fog.
Not fully formed.
Not fully real.
A tangle of limbs.
A body with no fixed shape.
A face that kept twisting—sometimes human, sometimes monstrous, sometimes something in between.
Its eyes—when they appeared—burned with broken blue light.
Eyes like the man beside him.
Aarav's steps faltered. "It looks like—"
**"Don't say it,"** the man snapped.
His voice cracked.
Just once.
Aarav understood.
The creature looked like Aakash.
Twisted. Consumed. Lost.
The fog surged forward.
A tendril shot past Aarav, grazing his shoulder, burning like ice. His vision flickered—the crater, the shadows, Kabir's hollow eyes—all flashing before him.
He screamed, clutching his head.
The man yanked him forward.
**"Fight it!"** he shouted.
**"The fracture feeds on memory. Don't let it take yours!"**
Aarav forced the images back, teeth gritted.
Another tendril lashed out.
This time the man turned, raising his hand. Blue fire burst from his palm, slicing through the fog like lightning. The tendril recoiled, shrieking.
Aarav stared. "You—you have powers too?"
The man didn't answer.
He simply said:
**"We're almost there."**
Up ahead, the ruins opened into a vast chasm—an enormous fissure glowing faintly blue. A bridge of jagged stone stretched across it, thin and cracked as if it had survived a hundred earthquakes.
Aarav skidded to a stop at the edge.
"You want us to cross *that*?!"
The man grabbed his shoulders.
**"Aarav, listen—"**
**"That thing will not step onto the bridge."**
"Why not?!"
**"Because the fracture doesn't control what lies beneath it."**
A roar thundered through the fog—closer than ever.
Aarav's breath trembled.
The chasm seemed endless, swallowing light. The bridge trembled under its own weight.
He backed away. "I—I can't—"
The man leaned forward, eyes burning.
**"Your brothers need you."**
**"Your mother needs you."**
**"And this world—both worlds—will die if you stop now."**
The fog exploded open.
The monster surged forward, dozens of limbs clawing at the cracked ground.
Aarav made his choice.
He ran onto the bridge.
The stone groaned under his feet.
Behind him, the creature howled—a sound full of loss, rage, and something heartbreakingly human.
The man followed him halfway—
Then stopped.
Aarav turned, breathless. "Come on!"
The man shook his head.
**"It won't follow you. But it will follow me."**
Aarav's eyes widened in horror. "You can't—"
The man forced a small, broken smile.
**"Go. Reach the Core."**
**"End this… before it turns you into what it turned my brother into."**
Aarav reached out. "Don't do this!"
But the fog swallowed the man before he could reply.
Aarav screamed his name—
But even that was drowned out by the monster's roar.
He turned and ran across the trembling bridge, tears mixing with the red mist.
Behind him, the fracture took another piece of someone who had already lost too much.
The bridge groaned beneath Aarav's feet as he sprinted across it, the cracks widening with every step.
The chasm below glowed a dim, eerie blue—like a heartbeat slowing, fading.
He didn't dare look down.
He didn't dare look back.
But the echoes followed him.
Not footsteps.
Not roars.
But *voices*.
Soft, trembling, familiar.
"Aarav…"
His mother's voice.
"Aarav… help…"
Rahul's voice.
"Bhaiya… don't leave me."
Kabir's voice.
Aarav froze mid-step, breath collapsing in his chest.
"No," he whispered. "You're not real."
The voices grew louder, overlapping, twisting.
"Why weren't you stronger?"
"Why couldn't you save us?"
"You break everyone around you."
Aarav clenched his fists, shaking.
He forced himself to keep walking.
Every step felt like wading through guilt.
But then—
A voice cut through the others.
Stronger. Clearer.
Human.
**"Aarav. Keep moving."**
Aarav gasped.
It was the man—calling from behind the fog, far across the chasm.
Still alive.
Still fighting.
The monster roared in response, its voice shaking the entire fissure.
Aarav ran.
The bridge tilted. Stones fell into the glowing abyss.
The edge came closer—ten meters, five, three—
He leapt.
For one horrible second, he was weightless over the void.
Then his hands slammed onto solid ground on the other side. He pulled himself up, chest burning, legs trembling.
The bridge behind him collapsed.
The roar of the creature echoed into the chasm, furious and helpless.
The fog swallowed everything.
Aarav stood alone.
Silence pressed against him like a hand around his throat.
Ahead, the broken city ended abruptly—giving way to a vast plain of dark glass stretching into infinity. Beneath the glass, shapes moved in slow, tortured spirals, like memories trapped underwater.
Aarav stepped onto it.
The glass didn't crack.
It *whispered.*
Every step triggered faint reflections—shadows of Aarav himself at different ages.
Crying.
Falling.
Bleeding.
Trying to be strong.
Trying to pretend.
Aarav swallowed hard. "This place knows too much."
The fracture answered.
A ripple spread through the glass like a pulse.
The silhouettes beneath him twitched.
One pressed its hands against the underside of the glass.
A version of himself—smaller, younger, eyes red from crying after a night his mother worked too late.
Aarav whispered, "Stop… please."
But the reflection's voice echoed upward:
**"You were always afraid."**
A second reflection appeared—older Aarav, sixteen, silently taking blame for something he didn't do just to protect his brothers.
**"You were always tired."**
Another reflection—current Aarav, but hollow-eyed, trembling, like someone moments away from breaking.
**"You were never enough."**
The glass shuddered violently.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward.
Aarav stumbled back as the silhouettes pounded against the underside, desperate to break free.
**"Stop!"** he shouted.
The fractures widened.
The reflections screamed.
Aarav fell to his knees, covering his ears.
"STOP!"
A burst of blue light erupted from his chest—again—splintering through the cracking glass.
The reflections froze.
The glass healed.
The plain went silent.
Aarav collapsed forward, gasping, sweat dripping down his face.
That same blue light…
The same power that saved him from the creature.
He looked down at his trembling hands.
"What… am I becoming?"
The air around him shifted.
A figure appeared ahead—far across the glass plain.
Tall.
Radiant.
Wrapped in impossible blue light.
A voice carried from it—calm, ancient, terrifying.
**"Walk forward, Aarav."**
**"The Core awaits."**
Aarav stood despite the trembling in his legs.
He wiped his face, steadied his breathing.
One step.
Then another.
Whatever waited at the Core…
Whatever truth the fracture held…
He would face it.
Because fear wasn't the only thing inside him.
There was something else now.
Something the fracture didn't expect.
Strength.